Leo scooped the Barrier-Breaching Insect into his palm, his emotions a mix of relief and wonder. Over six years in the Black Water Stockade Mine, he had cultivated the Puppet Shadow Art to minor success and forged the five elemental dharma seals. His Shadow Ants had multiplied to nearly a thousand, enough for sustained battles. He had achieved his goal of reaching the Great Perfection of Qi Refining, and the leopard, fed large quantities of high-grade Beast Spirit Pills, had advanced to peak third-grade demon beast. Leo's strength had skyrocketed. Only the Barrier-Breaching Insect eggs had stubbornly refused to hatch.

  Now, patience had finally paid off. The remaining eggs were probably dead. No matter—it was time to test them on the black-robed old man's storage pouch.

  Over a decade on the path of cultivation, through countless life-and-death struggles and treachery, the one who had left the deepest impression was still that cheap master, the black-robed old man who had first set him on this path.

  Even now, at the Great Perfection stage, his strength rivaled the old man's back then, yet Leo still couldn't open his storage pouch with spiritual sense. The more elusive it proved, the more convinced he became that its contents were extraordinary.

  Barrier-Breaching Insects could break through spiritual restrictions. It would likely work. But storage pouches were spatial treasures—forcing them open risked losing their contents.

  "Time to gamble." Leo steeled himself and placed the insect on the pouch.

  Chirp! The insect grew excited, like a starving animal scenting food. Its plump yellow body crawled over the pouch, sniffing. At one corner, it reared up and bit down fiercely.

  A net-like restriction materialized on the pouch. Leo probed with his spiritual sense—as before, it was repelled.

  So that was it. Instead of disappointment, Leo felt relief. The restriction had been invisible until the insect bit through a corner. It was working.

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  He watched patiently as the insect devoured the net, bite by bite. It ate with gusto, quickly consuming the entire restriction. After the last bite, its plump body stiffened, and it lay motionless on the pouch.

  "Don't tell me it's dead." Leo picked it up—asleep. He chuckled wryly and returned it to the spirit insect pouch. Then, trembling with excitement, he lifted the pouch.

  With a rustle, the pouch, somehow torn, spilled dozens of jade boxes.

  "Where's the golden flying sword?" Leo frantically searched through the boxes. No golden sword, but he found a small black sword, a booklet, and two strange scales.

  "A magic artifact!" Leo gasped. He knew that spiritual pressure well. Hadn't the old man's sword been golden? Where did this black sword come from?

  "Color doesn't matter. A magic artifact is a magic artifact."

  For the first time, Leo felt an inexplicable lightness. The crushing pressure of knowing Foundation Establishment masters' kin could bring magic artifacts into the Bloody Battlefield—the helpless feeling of his life in others' hands—had haunted him. Now, with his own magic artifact, he could face even those blood-related to Golden Core elders with confidence!

  Lighter of heart, he examined the rest. The booklet detailed a sword-within-sword secret art.

  "So that's it. The golden sword was just a shell. The real magic artifact was the black sword inside."

  Leo understood. A disguise, making enemies think it merely a spirit sword. Then, when they let down their guard, unleash a magic artifact's power. Cunning old man. He resolved to craft a similar disguise for his own black sword.

  There were precious spiritual herbs—healing, Essence Energy Pills, Black Flower Pills. He already had those. What Leo didn't know was that forcing the restriction had destroyed some items—the two Purple Ginsengs and other spoils the old man had taken from the blood dwarves had vanished.

  "These scales... familiar?" Leo puzzled over them.

  Before he could ponder further, a figure approached in the distance—Hann returning. Leo swept the jade boxes into his boundary space.

  Hann hurried back, clutching a handful of antidote herbs, beaming. These herbs, though pungent, were highly effective against the poison fog and even repelled some poisonous insects.

  Hours later, they emerged from the miasma and poison fog before a ruined palace, walls crumbled, debris everywhere.

  "Who'd build a sect in such a poisonous place?" Leo marveled. Sect elders usually chose spiritually rich locations.

  "Poison and miasma can be a small sect's defense. Those at the bottom of the cultivation world can't occupy blessed lands. Besides, beneath these ruins lies something else." Hann seemed different here, more talkative.

  "Stop. Someone's coming." Leo pulled Hann behind a broken wall.

  "Damn this place! Those red-headed flies bit me half to death. I'm itching like crazy!" A burly man, black as iron, carrying twin bronze hammers, stomped past complaining. His dark skin bore several swollen red welts.

  "Exactly! That kid said there'd be treasure. We haven't found squat, just fed mosquitoes and flies. If he lied, I'll skin him alive and make him wish he was dead!" another, with a square face and red nose, grumbled.

  Seven or eight of them. The strongest, the black giant, was at the twelfth layer. Four were late-stage, three mid-stage.

  Hann's face flickered, then relaxed, a slight sigh escaping him.