Chapter 143: The Ultimate Battle Part 3

At this moment, the pressure within the battle zone had intensified to three times its initial strength, all the result of Xishan sacrificing a great deal of his own blood. The Bloodstain Blade was like a malevolent demon—insatiable and ravenous, craving ever more blood.

Yet Xishan remained unaware that his blood supply was running dangerously low, barely able to keep pace with the blade's consumption.

Having severed the sole obsession in his heart and truly embraced the path of slaughter, he was brimming with confidence, radiating a fierce killing intent. Yet his heart was calm beyond measure, as if all things in the world were but grass and chaff, illusory and unworthy of attachment.

To exterminate all living things—this was his sole belief.

His blade moved like a phantom, penetrating every gap. In an instant, he launched a frenzied, relentless assault, leaving Lekai no moment to breathe. The pressure on Lekai doubled, plunging him into an absolute, grueling battle. His plight was scarcely better than that of his comrades fighting mutated rhinos elsewhere.

Purely fighting to kill, Xishan’s senses seemed greatly heightened. His speed was unparalleled; no matter how Lekai shifted his form, Xishan would find him instantly and unleash a storm of attacks.

Such a terrifying battle-madman was perhaps the first Lekai had ever encountered. His madness was even more fearsome than Lekai’s own.

Lekai could no longer recall how much blood he had spat. It was likely not much less than the self-inflicted wounds Xishan bore. The Bloodstain Blade was truly bizarre. With such enormous consumption, even a second-rank warrior would have long since collapsed. Yet Xishan, though near bloodless and with eyes bursting, showed no decline in combat power—if anything, he grew more frenzied.

This was true fighting with one's life on the line, sparing nothing!

If it weren’t for the alchemist master’s teachings and the countless pills Lekai had concocted, even ten copies of himself wouldn’t suffice to match this man’s killing spree.

Time and again, the violent fiery aura spiraled out, clashing with Xishan. Lekai’s arm meridians felt as though scorched by raging flames, severely damaged and on the brink of collapse.

Each passage of the fire aura brought excruciating, bone-grating pain.

Enduring extreme agony while deliberately ramping up his fury, Lekai’s consciousness began to waver, teetering on the edge of slipping into a berserk state.

“Brother, you must not enter berserk mode! Hold on—just a little longer and the enemy will fall. His blood is nearly gone; he can’t sustain such attacks much longer. You have to endure!” Xianxian called out with tears in her voice. No one understood Lekai’s physical condition better than she did. The last berserk episode had caused him devastating, immeasurable harm. If he entered it again so soon, the consequences would be unthinkable.

Suddenly, Lekai jolted, activating the Phantom Spirit Technique. His mind cleared instantly, and he realized with alarm that, despite his high spiritual cultivation, the savage aura had nearly forced him into madness. For an ordinary person, the experience would have been unimaginable.

But if he didn’t go berserk, how could he survive this ordeal?

Over and over, surpassing his limits, he swung his numb arms and relied on the pills’ power to bear Xishan’s ferocious assault, seemingly without end. Anyone without unwavering resolve would have long since shattered.

Mental attacks were ineffective, his strength paled against the opponent’s, and he held no speed advantage either. Xishan’s sense of touch was even more acute than his own. Facing such a dreadful foe, Lekai had never even imagined this scenario. His proud signature techniques were almost completely restricted; he could only passively accept the enemy’s style of combat—head-on clashes.

All along, Lekai’s battles had been orchestrated through his “Game of Strategy,” leveraging timing and terrain to create the most advantageous situation, mastering the fight with ease. This was the first time he had fought so passively, which sparked a flicker of anger within him.

After all, he was still just a youth, not a god. Having his own emotions was natural. To suppress all feelings would render him as cold and dull as Xishan.

At this moment, though he knew madness was forbidden, the relentless torment ignited uncontrollable rage within him.

It was as if a shackle deeply bound him, filling him with terror and fury. Desperately, he sought to break free, to shatter the chains. His inner yearning was so intense, he almost wished to dissolve himself.

Unconsciously, the hue of his fire aura deepened, resembling real flames, filled with a terrifying destructive power capable of incinerating all.

Boom! A tremendous blast echoed within his mind.

A shackle had finally been broken. In an instant, Lekai felt as though he had soared beyond the heavens and earth, like a prisoner reborn. Enlightenment stirred within him.

A first-rank warrior!

Is this the strength of a first-rank warrior?

At this crucial moment, Lekai finally achieved a breakthrough in power, ascending from “Hall Level” to first-rank!

Only star-ranked warriors could truly be called masters. Lekai had once thought the difference between the two was merely strength, but now he no longer believed so.

A new rank, a new threshold, truly brought a different vista.

Not only had his power increased to ten thousand Anchors, but his consciousness had undergone a purification and baptism, reborn anew. His vision expanded, sensing the world as infinitely larger.

Before, the world was just the world. Now, mountains and earth remained as they were, yet an indistinct sensation whispered that all was different. Hidden within the heavens and earth was something strange and profound—an unfathomable mystery sensed but untouchable.

Like the points he constructed in void using his Return Step Technique—unseen by the eye, yet in his consciousness these points were as real as anything. Every movement traced these intangible spots, which to him were reality.

Now, sensing the world without relying on footwork or mind techniques, Lekai could feel this strangeness.

Is this what it means to be a star-ranked warrior?

Lekai seemed to grasp something profound, but now was no time for contemplation. The enemy before him was launching a desperate final assault!

“Breaking through mid-battle—truly worthy of being the Lan family’s chosen seed. This only makes it harder to let you live. Eliminating a stumbling block for the young master must please him greatly,” Xishan sneered.

“You’re nearly dead yourself, and you still care about your young master? Are you out of your mind?” Lekai retorted sharply.

His curved blade danced like a soaring dragon, spurting blood wildly. Though stained with Lekai’s blood, it was not Xishan’s Bloodstain Blade; the blood merely slid down the blade with no change.

Xishan did not rely on his eyes; his sense of touch was even more acute, granting him a form of precognition. He always anticipated Lekai’s moves, cutting off his escape routes and forcing him to fight with brute strength.

However, he seemed to have underestimated Lekai’s other identity. As an alchemist, Lekai had long prepared various life-saving pills. Though the ingredients were precious, he now swallowed them relentlessly, fueled by their explosive energy to battle Xishan to the death.

Xishan laughed madly, bathed in a crimson glow, as if transformed into a blood demon.

“Brother, this is bad. Xishan knows he’s doomed but refuses to give up. There must be a reason. I just consulted the ‘Unity Secrets,’ which mention an ancient, evil art that might be related,” Xianxian warned.

“What sort of forbidden technique? Feeding weapons with blood is never righteous,” Lekai said.

“In ancient times, cultivators flourished in a hundred schools of thought. Countless geniuses, eager for breakthroughs, devised many wondrous techniques and founded numerous sects. Among these were righteous and evil paths. Some impatient prodigies created speedy, powerful arts that were once popular but later revealed fatal flaws. Practitioners either went mad and died, or became mindless killers, wreaking havoc. These were labeled heresy. After years of persecution by the righteous, these evil cultivators were defeated. Though a few remain, they dare not show themselves, lest they be hunted down.”

Lekai frowned. “Why tell me this? I knew Xishan was a heretic the moment he sacrificed blood to the Bloodstain Blade. Nothing strange there.”

“No, heretics come in many forms—countless types—but generally fall into three categories: body cultivators, soul cultivators, and weapon cultivators. All are bloody and brutal.”

Body cultivators focus on physical refinement. In the Wolf Empire, a star empire valuing strength, most heretics are body cultivators.

Soul cultivators are even more sinister and terrifying. At their peak, they can possess others or be reborn, manipulating minds. Such heretics are common in the Fairy Empire.

Weapon cultivators are the most common and mundane.

At the start of cultivation, they choose a weapon as their life tool, nourishing it daily with their essence and blood, using it for slaughter to eventually awaken its spirit. These weapons possess extreme demonic qualities, almost sentient, demanding a daily offering of essence and blood.

Weapons successfully fed blood often gain special powers. For example, Xishan’s Bloodstain Blade can create a battle domain space, greatly enhancing its wielder’s power.

The professor’s stories also described these heretics as demons in human skin, whose growth paths were soaked in endless bloodshed.

Xianxian then dropped a startling revelation: “Xishan practices weapon cultivation, but he is not the true master of the Bloodstain Blade!”

“What... how is that possible?” Lekai exclaimed in shock.