C9 Rakshasa Sect Number Two

Dozens of miles from the battlefield, within a grand tower, two figures sat cross-legged on the floor, their eyes tightly shut. Before them, miniature versions of themselves were locked in combat, magic treasures streaking through the air and divine powers swirling chaotically in a miniature world. It was a sparring match that clearly showcased one side's overwhelming dominance.

At last, one of the combatants crumbled, and the first to open his eyes conceded, "Lord Number Two, your cultivation is formidable. I stand no chance against you."

His opponent, shrouded in a black robe that concealed all beneath it, responded indifferently, "You're ranked twenty-fourth; naturally, you're no match for me."

Number Two rose and stretched, proclaiming, "It's not just you. Should I exert my full power, no one beyond Number Five could last three rounds against me. You're all too weak. I might need to spar with Number One someday..."

"How can I compare to Number One? You flatter me too much, Lord Number Two," said Twenty-four, his demeanor as subservient as a servant's.

"Indeed," Number Two scoffed, his interest waning. He stood and walked to the tower's window, gazing down at the demonic beasts below, among which were some on the cusp of the Bodiless Stage. Once they reached this stage, they could shed their beastly form and transform into a human shape, becoming powerful demons like Loong San.

"Some of these demonic beasts possess commendable bloodlines," Number Two mused, leaning on the window sill. "What a pity they're so weak..."

This tower served as a Rakshasa Sect outpost in the mountains, tasked with the cultivation of demonic beasts.

"Sir, Number One places great importance on the Divine King Dragon Blood matter. He insists we return with it posthaste," Twenty-four broached cautiously. "Considering Thirteen and Twenty-seven have been gone this long without any word, perhaps we should check on them... Should any mishap occur, Number One's wrath would be inevitable."

Glancing at Number Two, Twenty-four's unease was palpable.

"You..."

Suddenly, Number Two's voice turned icy, "Are you... instructing me on how to handle my affairs?"

"I wouldn't dare!"

Twenty-four felt his soul nearly escape as he dropped to his knees.

"That guy has already reached Number One, yet he can't resist any opportunity to grow stronger. It's such a headache..."

Gazing at the sky, Number Two shook his head after a long silence and said, "Stand up. You're not at fault here. The plans I've made are foolproof. Nothing can go wrong!"

"Just twenty-seven alone could obliterate that wretched Holy Land. I even assigned Thirteen to accompany them, and they're only after three drops of dragon blood."

"Plus, they're carrying my Rakshasa Token, the Yang Token!"

"In the entire East Continent, the number of people who could thwart them wouldn't fill one hand!"

Number Two spoke with a serene, untroubled voice.

"You speak the truth, Your Excellency!"

Twenty-four bowed his head. "But Your Excellency, under normal circumstances, they should have secured the dragon blood and returned by now."

Hmm?

Number Two came to an abrupt halt!

He'd overlooked something!

Apart from the Rakshasa Sect, it was possible that other formidable sects coveted those three drops of dragon blood.

But even if such powers intervened...

With the Rakshasa Token in play!

Even if Thirteen and Twenty-seven couldn't overcome their adversaries, they should at least be able to flee. So why was there still no sign of them after all this time?

Crack!

All of a sudden, Number Two's body stiffened within his black robe. His palm turned over, revealing a silver token.

A tiny crack emerged on its surface and rapidly spread. Within moments, the token was riddled with fissures, looking as though it would crumble at the slightest touch!

Number Two's face darkened as he examined the token.

This was the Yin token of the Rakshasa Token!

The Yin and Yang tokens were two halves of a whole, born together. Damage to one would inevitably harm the other.

Judging by the state of this Yin token, it seemed likely... the Yang token had been destroyed!

"Move out!"

Number Two commanded in a low growl, wasting no further words, and took to the skies in an instant.

"Yes, Your Excellency!"

Twenty-four bowed deeply and followed closely behind Number Two, transforming into a brilliant streak of light that soared toward the heavens!

Who could it be?

Who dared to shatter my Rakshasa Token?

Along the way, Number Two's face was a mask of icy fury. Despite his immense power, the Rakshasa Token was an invaluable treasure to him!

Who possessed such formidable strength to obliterate the Rakshasa Token?

"Could it be... someone from the Grand One Holy Land?"

No sooner had the thought surfaced than Number Two squashed it. The Grand One Holy Land, though still bearing the title of a holy place, had long since fallen into decay. Not even its current Holy Lord could stand against Thirteen.

"Whoever it is, if you dare to destroy my treasure, I will make you pay dearly!"

"Now that my treasure is destroyed, I might as well obliterate the Grand One Holy Land as well!"

"It was once a Holy Land, after all. Surely, it must have some legacy worth uncovering..."

As the second-in-command of the Rakshasa Sect, he didn't believe anyone could challenge him. The insignificant Grand One Holy Land was nothing more than an annoying insect, easily crushed if he so desired!

...

"What a bore!"

Zhao Xiaoqi watched the Rakshasa Token vanish into the ether, casually brushing the dust from his clothes.

He glanced at the mountain beside him, now missing half its peak due to his punch, and shook his head slightly. Although he had grown accustomed to his body's capabilities, the power within could still prove unstable when unleashed.

Just a sliver of the punch's force had escaped.

And that was enough to obliterate half of the adjacent mountain.

"Young Master..."

An elder from the Grand One Holy Land approached with a deep bow, his voice laced with caution, "We are deeply grateful for your intervention!"

"There's no need for thanks. I share a certain connection with the Grand One Holy Land!"

Zhao Xiaoqi turned to regard the elder and offered, "I'll escort you back to your sect and leave you a drop of dragon blood. Keep it secret, though, or it may bring about a calamity that could wipe out your entire sect!"

After all, Zhao Xiaoqi had reaped a great benefit from Faang Hee, and he felt it only right to offer some form of recompense to the Grand One Holy Land.

"I'm curious about the connection you mentioned, Young Master..."

The elder from the Grand One Holy Land was visibly moved, his beard quivering with excitement.

Years ago, the Grand One Holy Land was the revered power of the East Continent, with every sect and dynasty bowing to its might. But now, they had become almost a laughingstock, vulnerable to everyone's whims.

The revelation that such a formidable figure claimed ties to the Grand One Holy Land was thrilling. Could this be the spark needed for their resurgence?

"It's a bit too complex to explain in just a few words. I'll fill you in once we're back at the Holy Land..."

Zhao Xiaoqi, who was never adept at fabricating stories, found himself at a loss for words and decided to defer the conversation.

"As you say, Young Master. We shall depart immediately!"

The Grand One Holy Land elder respectfully saluted Zhao Xiaoqi, ready to set off, when suddenly, Zhao Xiaoqi paused mid-turn, his gaze drawn to the distant skyline.

"Young Master..."

Loong San, having prepared the carriage, noticed Zhao Xiaoqi hadn't boarded and looked on, puzzled.

"Let's hold off on leaving for a moment."

Zhao Xiaoqi shook his head, facing the horizon once more, his eyes piercing through the vast distance.

"Someone is approaching!"