Daoist Competition-Chapter 165 - 52: Wind, Thunder, Lightning, Fire – A Match for Three Treasures

After hearing Han Ji’s words, Zhang Yan glanced at him and chuckled, "Brother Han, you’re carrying a Mystic Blood Pill with you? Could it be that you have long planned for this, or perhaps, you already knew there were Blood Essence Sect disciples here?"

Han Ji gave a bitter smile and said, "Brother Zhang, you misunderstand. I have been stagnant in cultivating Mysterious Skill for six years, knowing full well there is no hope for me. Thus, I’ve entertained the thought of switching to Demon Skill. Last year, I spared no effort to acquire a Demon Sect scripture, intending to use this trip to the Demon Cave to find some devils to cultivate with, then consume this pill to enhance my cultivation. I truly did not anticipate encountering Blood Essence Sect disciples here beforehand."

As if to make his words more convincing, he pulled a booklet from his sleeve, respectfully holding it with both hands, and handed it to Zhang Yan. "Brother, see for yourself. This is the book."

Zhang Yan accepted it, glanced at the cover, and saw the title "Seeking Origin Scripture." He nodded, recognizing it as a cultivation technique of the Demon Sect, equivalent in standing to the "One Qi Cleansing Scripture."

However, practicing this Dharma technique would require completely abandoning any techniques cultivated previously, starting over from scratch. Zhang Yan couldn’t help but regard Han Ji with a newfound respect.

After all, few would have the resolve to forsake decades of painstaking cultivation overnight. Such ruthless determination was rare.

A trace of bitterness crossed Han Ji’s face as he said, "Now that there are many Blood Essence Sect disciples here, if I reveal my background, they likely won’t trouble me too excessively."

Zhang Yan paused in thought, realizing that this might indeed be the case. If Han Ji were to seek refuge with the Blood Essence Sect, they might not accept him entirely, but they likely wouldn’t harm him immediately.

Firstly, the Han Clan was one of the Five Great Families of Mingcang Sect, a unique status rife with exploitable benefits. Secondly, Han Ji was familiar with Mingcang Sect’s inner workings, even possessing knowledge of many great clan secrets—information that was exceedingly hard to obtain. Thirdly, he bore a grudge against the Han Clan and was willing to relinquish his Mysterious Skill cultivation entirely, even presenting the Mystic Blood Pill. The karmic implications of such an offering were immense; whoever accepted it would be obliged to repay it.

Moreover, even if Han Ji failed to join their ranks, it was improbable that the Blood Essence Sect would decline the Mystic Blood Pill. For Demon Sect disciples, the allure of a pill capable of enhancing their cultivation was irresistible. This, however, would play significantly to Zhang Yan’s advantage.

Should no Hua Dan Cultivators arrive, Zhang Yan was confident that, even if he couldn’t defeat them, he could still escape unscathed. Yet the unknown number and prowess of Blood Essence Sect disciples troubled him. Fortunately, the fifteenth of the month was approaching. If Fang Zhen, Xie Zongyuan, and the others were planning to flee, they would surely head to the Demon Cave entrance.

It was certain that the Blood Essence Sect disciples would be prepared, mobilizing as many cultivators as possible. By then, an inevitable life-and-death battle would occur.

At that time, Zhang Yan could investigate further. If there were no Great Power Experts among their ranks, he would feel safe cultivating here. If there were any, he would be prepared to fight to the death. Whether he could escape the Demon Cave would depend on his own fortune.

Thinking of this, Zhang Yan turned to Han Ji and said, "Brother Han, have you truly made up your mind?"

Han Ji’s face hardened with determination as he replied resolutely, "Brother Zhang, you were born a mortal, yet you managed to join the Lower Court and eventually become a True Disciple. Such accomplishments are rare in a century. Although I cannot compare to you, I harbor my own aspirations. How could I possibly resign myself without giving it a try?"

At that moment, a cold snort echoed from outside the cave. "Oh, so it’s you, Zhang Yan, that little thief stirring up trouble! And Han Ji, you won’t escape today; prepare to die and spare us any further complications."

As the voice rang out, a middle-aged cultivator with a thin, elongated face strode into the cave.

Han Ji abruptly stood, his eyes blazing with fury. "Han Quande! It’s you!"

A calm expression persisted on Zhang Yan’s face as he remained seated, entirely unsurprised by the arrival. He sighed, "Since you’ve gone, why return now to meet your death?"

Upon hearing this, Han Quande burst into raucous laughter and shouted harshly, "Zhang Yan, how dare you meddle in matters of the Han Clan? No wonder Junior Feng claimed you’ll become a roadblock to my noble family someday. It seems he was right. But he only spoke half the truth—if you die here today, there’ll be nothing to worry about."

Junior Feng?

Zhang Yan narrowed his eyes, a sharp gleam flickering in his gaze, as the sword ball in his hand pulsed with energy.

Han Quande now turned his attention to Han Ji, pointing a finger at him. "Han Ji, so the Mystic Blood Pill is in your possession? Stolen by your dead mother, wasn’t it? Hah, small households truly can’t keep their hands clean."

Han Ji’s eyes burned red, and he roared furiously while pointing at him, "Han Quande! You’re just a servant bestowed with a noble surname. What right do you have to insult me? You dare disgrace my mother—today, I swear to kill you!"

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