The trio had stepped into the heart of the Hanz clan's legacy—a trove not just of gold, but of power left to slumber.
Before Lordi could take in the surroundings, a barrage of system notifications flooded his mind, the AllFullOS's prompt relentless.
Ding!~ Ding!~ Ding!~ Ding!~ Ding!~ Ding!~ ...
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 1.0.0]
> Detected external data.
> Analyzing...
> Pattern identified: [External Cultivation Art Techniques]
> Cultivation Technique Recording initiated...
> Progress: 10%...
...
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 1.0.0]
> Detected external data.
> Analyzing...
> Pattern identified: [External Martial Spell Arts]
> Martial Spell Recording initiated...
> Progress: 10%...
...
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 1.0.0]
> Detected external data.
> Analyzing...
> Pattern identified: [External Alchemy Formula Skill]
> Data Recording initiated...
> Progress: 10%...
...
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 1.0.0]
> Detected external data.
> Analyzing...
> Pattern identified: [External Fulu Crafting Skill]
> Data Recording initiated...
> Progress: 10%...
...
~ Ding! *System Notification Chime*
[AllFullOS: Version 1.0.0]
> Detected external data.
> Analyzing...
> Pattern identified: [External Artifact Forging Skill]
> Data Recording initiated...
> Progress: 10%...
...
The cacophony nearly deafened Lordi, each chime a testament to the Treasury House's wealth of knowledge. He gritted his teeth, forcing his concentration to the chamber around him.
A lacquered box sat inconspicuously on the shelf, its dark surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly, like embers smoldering beneath ash. Donovan's gaze snagged on it—then sharpened, recognition flaring in his eyes. A grin split his face, raw and triumphant, before he lunged.
But Lordi was faster, his body reacting on instinct.
The moment Donovan moved, Lordi's spirit energy surged, a crimson glow igniting beneath his skin. His body blurred, propelled by the Blood Spectre Footwork Art, crossing the distance in less than a breath. His fingers closed around the box first, the lacquered wood cool against his palm.
A snarl ripped from Donovan's throat. "You fucking maggot-rotten bastards! I'll carve your names into the walls of hell with your own fucking spines!"
His fist lashed out, wreathed in a gray-green aura that hissed like acid. The air itself seemed to rot in its wake. "Hand over the Crimson Whisker Vine!"
So that's what this is.
Lordi's grip tightened. The Crimson Whisker Vine—one of the rarest ingredients for the Foundation Establishment Pill, a treasure that could shatter the barriers of their current realm. Power, distilled into a single root.
A cold laugh coiled in Lordi's chest. Surrender it? Now, when fortune had literally fallen into his hands?
Never.
Lordi twisted away, his footwork art igniting around him, his body dissolving into a blur of blood-red light. The ground beneath his feet cracked as he pivoted, evading Donovan's first strike by a hair's breadth—a fist that tore through the air with enough force to send a shockwave ripping through the earth behind him. Dust and debris exploded in its wake, the very atmosphere trembling from the missed blow.
There was no time to recover. No time to doubt.
With a snarl, Lordi wrenched free the Blade of Life Hater from its sheath. The bone-white weapon pulsed as if alive, veins of dark energy writhing along its length. The moment it tasted the air, a mist of blood erupted around it—thick, cloying, the essence of fallen souls screaming in silent fury.
Lordi's blade came down like a bolt of crimson lightning, its edge honed to cleave through steel as if it were parchment. Yet when it met Donovan's second fist—CLAAANG!—the impact reverberated like a warhammer striking an anvil. The shock tore through Lordi's arm, bones shuddering, tendons screaming in protest. His palm split open, blood welling in the creases of his grip, the hilt of his sword now slick and treacherous in his grasp.
And Donovan? He hadn't moved an inch.
Not a flinch. Not a stagger. Only the cold, unblinking gaze of a predator who had already measured his prey.
The Hell?!
Lordi struck again, not with the grace of a duelist, but with the savagery of a beast backed into a corner. The blade carved through space, leaving afterimages of crimson in its wake, a whirlwind of slaughter aimed at Donovan's throat.
But Donovan didn't dodge.
He met it.
His fist, wreathed in an aura of crushing darkness, collided with the oncoming edge. The clash detonated like thunder, the force of it sending cracks spiderwebbing through the earth beneath them. Blood mist scattered, the very air itself recoiling from the violence of the exchange.
Lordi's arms screamed. His teeth clenched so hard he tasted iron. Yet the Mister First Dominator stood, unmoved, his expression one of near-boredom—as if this battle were nothing more than a passing inconvenience.
And then, with a contemptuous flex of his wrist, he pushed.
The backlash sent Lordi skidding backward, his boots carving trenches into the ground. His breath came ragged, his muscles burning. Something cold and primal slithered into his chest.
Fear.
Donovan cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off a mild annoyance. Then he smiled—a slow, merciless thing.
"Is that all?"
Donovan's strength was monstrous.
Every strike landed like a collapsing mountain, each blow hurling Lordi backward with bone-jarring force. This was no ordinary Ninth Layer Qi Refinement cultivator—not like Shirley Quinn's calculated precision for each lethal strike or Rodney Luther's brute ghost control ability. No, Donovan fought with vicious, unrelenting fury, his attacks laced with a malice that seeped into flesh and bone.
Bang! Thud! Clang!
The treasury chamber trembled as they clashed, shockwaves ripping through the air. Shelves toppled, priceless artifacts scattering like fallen leaves. Spirit stones, scrolls, and enchanted blades crashed to the ground, their glow flickering out like dying stars. Each time their fists met, jagged rents split the floor, carved by the sheer force of their colliding auras.
But the worst was the malice—an insidious energy that slithered past Lordi's defenses, gnawing at his bones like a swarm of starving insects. His muscles burned, his perfect grade quality skeleton resilience crumbling beneath Donovan's onslaught.
He can't match this Mister First Dominator head-on!
Realizing he was overpowered, Lordi's eyes flared azure, his palm erupting in blue flames—cold, hungry, and utterly destructive. He raised the lacquered box, letting the Ice Pith Fire lick its edges.
"Halt!" Lordi's voice was a blade's edge, sharp and final. "One more step, and the Crimson Whisker Vine burns to ash."
The Dao Flame curled closer, its azure glow reflecting in Donovan's widening eyes.
Donovan's face hardened, fury simmering beneath a veneer of icy control. "Calm—Fucking—Down—" His lip curled, the words dripping with scorn. "Would you?... Don't be a fool. You're in no position to stop me."
"I've gathered every ingredient for the Foundation Establishment Pill—except for the Crimson Whisker Vine in your hands. Hand it over, and I'll consider the matter of Garrick Blackthorn's murder crimes on my squad brother settled. Once I break through Foundation Stage, I might even grant you a favor—one request, so long as it doesn't risk my neck." Donovan's smirk was razor-thin. "But refuse?" A cold laugh. "Then you're standing between me and the Great Dao itself. And that—" he stepped closer, voice a lethal whisper, "—is a grudge that ends only in blood."
His gaze raked over Lordi, dismissive. "You're what—seventh-layer Qi Refinement? Even a genius needs years to touch the threshold of Foundation Stage. You'll find another vine when the time comes. But cross me now?" A slow, deliberate shake of his head. "There's no walking that back."
Hearing Donovan's threaten words, Lordi didn't react with panic or fear—instead, his lips curved into a faint, calculating smile. Opportunity.
"What a fateful coincidence," Lordi said, his voice smooth but laced with quiet assurance.
"Since we find ourselves at this crossroads, allow me to speak plainly, Mister First Dominator. The reason Garrick Blackthorn accepted me, a mere Seventh Layer cultivator into his battle squad is simple: my alchemy skills surpass any in the entire Outer Sect." He met Donovan's gaze without flinching.
"So rather than demand my Crimson Whisker Vine with force, consider this—provide me with the remaining alchemy ingredients for the Foundation Establishment Pill, assist me in securing its formula, and I will swear an Inner Demon Oath upon my Dao Heart." A deliberate pause. "In return? You, Mister First Dominator, will receive a share of the elixir pills I refine. A partnership—one that benefits us both."