Immortality Starts With Investment

A peak semi-saint of such terrifying might had fallen so swiftly. In that instant, the entire field fell into a silence so profound that a falling needle could be heard. Every onlooker stared dumbstruck, gazing at Ye Chen in disbelief.

At this moment, Ye Chen held the broken sword, standing like a war god descended upon the world—proud and aloof, overlooking the masses. That awe-inspiring presence instilled reverence in all hearts. Even saint-level existences, meeting his gaze, instinctively averted their eyes, unwilling to look directly.

That was a Holy Spirit Clan member! Even deficient, its innate might remained astonishingly profound. Who could have foreseen its erasure so effortlessly by the Heavenly Emperor’s heir?

Crossing an entire great realm, slaying a peak semi-saint Holy Spirit with a king’s cultivation—emerging utterly unscathed. This was true heaven-defiance. Even the ancient Heavenly Emperor likely could not match it.

This generation’s heir had truly achieved something unprecedented. The Heavy Pupil Pure Land, unable to withstand the earlier clash, had shattered. The prodigies within, though some miraculously survived, bore grievous wounds—utterly wretched.

The mere fallout from the duo’s battle wrought such devastation. It only underscored the Little Stone Sovereign’s extraordinary prowess—he was no ordinary foe. Yet before the Heavenly Emperor’s heir, he had still suffered utter defeat, dying in despair.

The surviving myriad races prodigies, witnessing this, sank deeper into hopelessness. The Heavenly Emperor’s heir had indeed been fishing.

The myriad races great powers wore ashen faces, expressions hideous to behold. They who prided themselves on seeing through all had been thoroughly schemed against by this junior. Now they could only watch helplessly as their prodigies fell—years of nurturing reduced to nothing. The Heavenly Emperor heir’s cunning rivaled the ancient Emperor’s own.

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Just as Ye Chen prepared to collect the deliberately preserved remnants of the Little Stone Sovereign, an abrupt change occurred. The natal divine weapon in his hand—already refined by the Armament Secret—violently shuddered. An aura of extreme peril erupted.

Ye Chen’s brows arched. A golden mark shot forth from the weapon, cloaked in mysterious and sinister force, hurtling straight toward his body.

Ye Chen’s brows rose further as he prepared to retreat. Instinct urged withdrawal. In this enigmatic cultivation world, unknowns often concealed lethal crises. No matter how strong, there was no need to rashly make contact.

High in the firmament, Feng Baiyu—who had been gazing at Ye Chen’s figure, overlaying it with memories of his own past—recognized the golden mark. He immediately called out in warning, ”Retreat at once! Do not let it touch you! That is the Holy Spirit Curse! Its peril defies imagination. Even a true immortal, once tainted, cannot purge it. Any who step within billions of miles of a powerful Holy Spirit will be instantly detected—marked as a mortal enemy, pursued without end!”

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The Holy Spirit Clan, so few in number, cherished each member deeply. In ancient times, a peerless expert of the clan, to protect them all, had unleashed a grand divine ability—forcibly altering heavenly rules. Ensuring that every gestating Holy Spirit bore this vicious curse etched into their core.

Should a clansman fall—even still in gestation—the curse would cling like bone maggots, instantly afflicting the killer. Once tainted, it was as though taunting the entire Holy Spirit Clan. Endless pursuit unto death would follow. Thereby deterring all races from lightly targeting them.

Ye Chen, for his part, had already prepared to invoke the Movement Secret and withdraw. Though the Holy Spirit Curse was swift, he was swifter. He could evade it entirely.

Yet upon hearing Holy Master Feng Baiyu’s warning, Ye Chen forcibly halted his retreating step. A gleam of delight flashed in his eyes instead. Become a mortal enemy of the Holy Spirit Clan? The moment any appeared—even billions of miles away—they would pursue him relentlessly, unto death? Such a wonderful thing existed?

To others, this might spell catastrophic doom. But to him, it was like a delivery station for takeout. Moments ago, after slaying the Little Stone Sovereign, Ye Chen had examined the lingering origin and couldn’t help but click his tongue in amazement.

The sheer richness of a single individual’s origin. This deficient Holy Spirit’s essence alone rivaled the combined harvest from the dozen-plus prodigies he had reaped earlier. And this was merely deficient.

The Holy Spirit Clan’s foundation truly ran deep. He possessed a neutral disposition. He rarely performed good deeds proactively, but he never initiated evil for profit either. He wouldn’t strike first against others for gain.

But if they came to kill him, his passive counter-kill was pure self-defense—perfectly justified, reasonable, and rightful.

Now, this Holy Spirit Curse mark was nothing less than an endless Holy Spirit origin collector. Why on earth would he dodge it?

Thus, under the astonished gazes of the crowd, Ye Chen not only refused to retreat a single step—he strode forward boldly, actively welcoming the curse mark.

In a blink, the mark seemed to find its home, burrowing straight into his body.

Ye Chen closed his eyes, sensing it carefully, confirming no other negative effects. His Holy Master claimed even true immortals couldn’t erase it.

But Ye Chen disagreed. He felt his constitution could grind it away—without much effort at all. Yet he chose not to.

The outsiders, witnessing this, were universally horrified. The Heavenly Emperor’s heir—was he truly this mad?

Not content with slaying a Holy Spirit clansman, he actively embraced the curse.

Addicted to fishing, was he? One Holy Spirit not enough—he sought to exterminate the entire clan? Did he intend to wipe out the Holy Spirit race?

At this thought, everyone reeled from the heir’s bloodthirst. First, a meticulous scheme—feigning weakness to lure the enemy, pitting and slaughtering this generation’s myriad races backbone. This battle alone had grievously wounded the myriad races’ vitality, teetering them on generational collapse. And now, he spared not even the whole Holy Spirit Clan. This style surpassed even the ancient Heavenly Emperor’s.

Yet the crowd wasn’t entirely surprised by Ye Chen’s hostility toward the Holy Spirits. Though the clan often remained aloof from myriad races’ affairs, seemingly uninvolved in worldly strife.

In truth, to mend their deficiencies, they had employed any means necessary. Before the Heavenly Emperor’s era, countless humans had been captive-bred by Holy Spirits for cruel experiments. The clan had even massacred a hundred thousand earth spiritual root cultivators in a bloody bid to patch their flaws.

The Heavenly Emperor himself had clashed with them over these atrocities, earning their enmity. Step by step, he too had borne the Holy Spirit Curse—walking the path of eternal vendetta. Now, was the Heavenly Emperor’s heir retracing that very road? Would humanity birth another Heavenly Emperor?

One who surpassed his predecessor—greater talent, stronger combat prowess, heavier killing nature, deeper scheming!

The mere thought chilled the myriad races to the bone.