Chapter Four: Wanted

Zhao Yuan never expected that his father’s words would come true. The Zhao family could not tolerate his father, nor could it tolerate him.

When his father left, he had told Zhao Yuan there were two paths he could take. The first was to cultivate the art of body refinement to its peak and awaken his bloodline. The second was to leave the Zhao family and head deep into the territory of the fierce beasts, where a mercenary group resided. There, as long as he gave his father’s name and showed the token, he would be given shelter.

With Zhao Ling’er by his side, Zhao Yuan journeyed through the beast territory until they reached its depths. There, a steel behemoth over twenty meters tall crouched, its massive body towering over the land, bristling with sharp weapons.

“Who goes there!” A man standing atop the steel beast’s head shouted angrily.

Zhao Yuan stepped forward, produced the token, and was about to state his identity. However, the man’s expression darkened, a chill flashing in his eyes.

“No need to say it. I know who you are. Our Demon Reaper Mercenary Corps doesn’t shelter useless trash. Get lost.”

Zhao Yuan’s expression remained calm. He stowed the token away, said nothing, and turned to leave. He had already anticipated this outcome; he had only come to verify his father’s words and ask about his father’s whereabouts, but it was clear this was impossible. The Demon Reaper Mercenary Corps was clearly hostile toward him.

After Zhao Yuan left, the man entered the head of the steel beast, where a burly giant lay on a steel bed, devouring chunks of bloody beast flesh, his face twisted and ferocious.

“Master, Zhao Yuan came with the Demon Reaper token.”

The giant paused, a gleam of murderous intent in his eyes. “Hmph. His father once gravely wounded me, causing me to be unable to gain entry to the Demonic Sect for three years. Now his father has entered the forbidden land, his life or death uncertain. Keeping his useless son alive is pointless. If we run into him again, kill him.”

Zhao Yuan’s life was as insignificant as an ant’s.

“Yes,” the man replied, his eyes filled with killing intent.

Checking his map, Zhao Yuan saw there were several towns near the beast territory, and other mercenary groups as well. With his current strength, he could exchange beast meat for food and shelter at a mercenary base. After all, his sister had yet to awaken her bloodline and could not remain long in the beast lands.

Zhao Ling’er followed behind, glancing around nervously, feeling as if some terrifying creature was watching her.

“Brother! Look out!”

A sudden roar. Out of the grass leapt a saber-toothed tiger, its fangs flashing as it lunged at Zhao Ling’er.

“Courting death!”

Zhao Yuan reacted instantly, unleashing the power of the Wild Bull bloodline. Two black horns condensed before him; with a wet crunch, they pierced the beast’s body, blood gushing forth.

The saber-toothed tiger collapsed instantly, its belly punched through with two bloody holes. It twitched a few times, then lay still.

He had killed a first-rank beast with a single blow.

The black mist in his heart was truly powerful.

Delight surged through Zhao Yuan. He had been worried about lacking beast meat, and now this one could be sold at a mercenary base for money.

Just as he was about to act, a beam of white light shot out from the saber-toothed tiger’s corpse and, in a flash, entered his heart.

“What’s happening?”

He glanced at Zhao Ling’er, but she seemed unaware of the light.

“What’s wrong?” Zhao Ling’er asked, puzzled.

“Did you see a flash of light just now?”

“No.”

Was it just his imagination? Zhao Yuan frowned, but didn’t dwell on it. He stepped forward to haul up the saber-toothed tiger, intending to sell it at the next base, but was surprised to find the beast’s body limp and weightless, as if it were just an empty hide—barely two catties, if that.

At that moment, his palm tingled. Looking down, he saw the black-patterned mark shifting, a pair of bull horns forming.

“A second-rank bloodline!” Zhao Yuan was astonished.

To refine one’s bloodline, one had to devour beast flesh and refine its essence. Yet he had done nothing, and suddenly broken through. Could it be the light from before?

As he puzzled over this, another beast’s roar sounded nearby. The ground shook, and another saber-toothed tiger charged out. Seeing its slain kin in Zhao Yuan’s hand, the beast was filled with rage.

“So the one before was the mother, and now the father arrives. This is a good chance to test that light.”

Zhao Yuan once again unleashed his Wild Bull bloodline, palm open toward the tiger. With a bang, bull horns condensed and drove straight through the beast.

Again, a ball of light emerged from the beast’s corpse and entered his heart. Zhao Yuan observed carefully and found that the black mist within him was absorbing the light, which then transformed into blood essence and flowed unimpeded through his body. The beast’s body became limp and hollow.

In that moment, Zhao Yuan understood: the orb of light was the beast’s essence.

Normally, refining a beast’s blood required days. Yet he needed only a few breaths.

This black mist’s secret must never be revealed.

Zhao Ling’er’s face was grim. Her brother grew stronger by the day; she could not hold him back. She was determined to awaken her bloodline.

Zhao Yuan finally understood. As long as he kept killing fierce beasts, he might advance all the way to the ninth rank of martial apprentice and step into the higher realm of the Bronze Gate.

With his mind made up, he placed the saber-toothed tiger’s body in a beast-infested area, letting the scent of blood waft around.

But instead of attracting beasts, he drew two hunters—a lean man and a burly one.

“Are you sure you saw Zhao Yuan?”

“Absolutely. There are wanted posters all over the city, and they’re offering a hundred taels of bronze stone for his corpse. Just remember, boss, I get the pretty little girl.”

“Huh? Why are there two saber-toothed tigers here?”

The two hunters were still confused when, with a wet crunch, they felt a chill in their chests. Looking down, they saw gaping, bloody holes.

“It’s you,” one cursed with hatred. “You’re wanted throughout the city. Every beast and hunter here is after you. You can’t escape.”

With that, both men fell dead.

Zhao Yuan stood behind them, expression cold. If they had been mere passersby, he would have let them be. But they had come to kill him, and even spoke of defiling his sister—touching his reverse scale.

He waited. This time, two lights emerged—one blue, one red—devoured by the black mist, which seemed to chew them audibly.

In the next moment, the light became blood essence, rushing through his body, merging with his bones, blood, flesh, meridians, and organs, as if he were bathed in sunlight.

His blood surged like a raging river.

“Third-rank martial apprentice! It really happened!” Zhao Yuan could not contain his elation.

In just one day, he had broken through to the third rank. In the past, he wouldn’t have dared dream it. The Zhu family’s patriarch had trained his entire life and only reached the peak of fifth rank.

“Hm? The black mist is behaving strangely.”

Suddenly, the black mist spat out a glob of light—the Crimson Flame bloodline—which traveled down his arm to his palm, fusing with the Wild Bull’s black pattern.

A bloodline mark unlike any he had seen before was born.

Flames enveloped a bull’s head.