Chapter Ninety-Five: The Might of the Altar

His entire body was a mass of bloody flesh, with half his hair gone and a pair of predatory eyes gleaming with ferocity as he glared at Ge Qian. He spoke coldly, "Who would have thought—after all my days hunting the wild goose, today the goose pecks out my eye. I, Cui Yun, have lived two hundred and ninety-three years, and yet I have been outwitted by a mere ant like you. Zhang Jiu was slain by your hand, and you seized his three ‘Purple Fiend Thunder’ talismans, now using them against me. Very well. But an ant remains an ant; it cannot escape its fate. As long as I draw breath, I will torment you, make you regret the folly of your actions today—how utterly stupid!"

"Cui Yun, spare me your nonsense. Your intentions were never good, and don’t think I’m blind to that. Rather than be someone’s pawn, I’d rather take my chances. Whatever the outcome, I won’t cower from death. I despise threats most of all," Ge Qian’s eyes burned with killing intent.

Cui Yun flexed his limbs, saying, "I would have let you reincarnate, but now, killing you a thousand times wouldn’t ease my hatred. You’ve cost me the fortune I spent a century cultivating. Let me tell you the truth: with my mutated dual roots of fire and thunder, I could have advanced to the Core Condensation stage long ago, if I’d focused on cultivation. But I stumbled upon this space, sensed its extraordinary nature, and devoted myself to deciphering countless ancient scripts. Eventually, I unraveled the altar’s inscriptions, discovering an ancient miracle art—‘Fate Shift of Heaven and Earth.’ Yet to practice it, one must possess a ‘Fate Mark,’ which I lacked. For a hundred years, I labored, finally devising a method: to sacrifice cultivators with fate marks, summoning traces of primordial fate!"

Ge Qian frowned, "So your talk of the Life-Extending Pills was nothing but lies?"

"Not entirely. The Life-Extending Pills are sacrificial ingredients, used to invoke fate by fate. Such profound theory—you, an ant, could never grasp. From the moment I met you, it was destined you’d be the foundation of my success, for you possess a fate mark. Isn’t that the best gift Heaven could give me? It happened to be my birthday, no less," Cui Yun sneered, his tone both scornful and smug.

At that moment, a short, middle-aged man with thick brows and large eyes approached, visibly startled by Cui Yun’s disheveled state—so different from the composed strategist he remembered. When he saw Ge Qian, regret flickered across his face.

He addressed Cui Yun timidly, "Master, the Blood Pool is prepared as you instructed."

Cui Yun nodded in satisfaction. "Do you hear that, Ge Qian? Today marks the end of your life."

The middle-aged man looked at Ge Qian and couldn’t help but say, "Junior Brother Ge, you truly advanced to the Foundation Establishment stage. I never expected it. The ‘Triple Origin Pillar Technique’ in your hands was well worth it. Yet your fate is so tragic."

Ge Qian pondered, glanced at the Blood Pool, and asked, "Senior Brother Du Tao, how did you become Cui Yun’s servant?"

Du Tao gave a bitter smile, pointing at the Blood Pool. "Junior Brother, all those buried here are fellow disciples who resolved to leave the Celestial Star Sect for ordinary lives. They hoped to return home, reunite with family, but were captured and thrown into the Blood Pool by the master, their spirits trapped, unable to reincarnate. I too was caught, but for some reason, the master kept me alive—this worthless life—to manage the Blood Pool."

Ge Qian’s hair bristled with rage. This was no different from demonic ways, and all the victims were his own sect brothers. He pointed at Cui Yun, fury erupting. "You are less than swine and dogs. To compare you to them is an insult. Let me send you to your doom!"

With that, Ge Qian’s aura exploded violently. From his sleeve, a wave of resentment surged forth, coalescing into a crimson plum blossom. He struck the Demon Gourd, unleashing a flash of shadowy mist that swept toward Cui Yun.

In Ge Qian’s hand appeared a fan over a yard long, inscribed with flickering runes. He infused it with spiritual power and swung it hard at Cui Yun. A column of wind seven feet thick erupted, filled with countless razor-sharp blades, slashing in a single blow.

Behind Ge Qian, a towering phantom rose—a ten-yard tall avatar with three heads and six arms, majestic as a mountain, its body covered in fist-sized scales, runes swirling, lightning coursing across it. The central head was identical to Ge Qian’s; the other two were featureless silhouettes. The avatar took a step beside Cui Yun, its six arms raining down a barrage of giant fists.

For the first time, faced with Ge Qian’s ferocious, overwhelming attack, Cui Yun’s expression changed. If the initial strike had been luck and surprise, now it was a deadly onslaught—the corrosive demon mist, the shredding wind column, the crushing giant fists. Injured as he was, he couldn’t withstand it; had he been at full strength, he’d have no fear.

Cui Yun spat a mouthful of vital blood onto the altar. The altar’s spiritual light flared, hundreds of yards wide, shielding him. The demon mist rebounded from the altar’s glow; the wind column was absorbed, swirling around the altar; only the giant fists made the light ripple violently.

Cui Yun appeared atop the altar, weaving a strange incantation, and the altar slowly rose, flashing above Ge Qian’s head, descending with force.

"Ge Qian, you truly earn my profound respect—such strength! But so what? The Altar of Fate is beyond your ability to resist. Die, my stepping stone!" Cui Yun roared madly.

Facing the altar looming overhead like a small mountain, Ge Qian felt mortal danger engulf him. Golden light burst from his body, which swelled two yards larger. Eighty-nine sword beams surged forth, converging upon the altar.

The six arms of the avatar spun like a whirlwind, giant fists battering the altar. The crimson plum blossom struck the Demon Gourd, erupting like a volcano, sending a massive demonic mushroom cloud to lift the altar into the air.

Ge Qian tossed his beast pouch, and a small white fox appeared before him.

He cast a spell, “Drawing from the Cauldron’s Bottom,” directly siphoning a drop of essence blood from the fox. "Little White, our contract is dissolved. This battle’s outcome is uncertain. You’ve managed my herbal garden for four years—I never thanked you. Now, you are free. Whether you escape depends on your own fate."

The little white fox’s heart ached at his words. Perhaps this was the destiny of Mei Die. If only she could restore her strength, she’d kill that old wretch with a wave of her paw. The fox howled to the sky, then leaped beside Ge Qian, making her intention clear—to fight side by side.

Cui Yun urgently pressed the altar downward, shouting at Du Tao, "Idiot! Are you dumb? I’m fighting for my life, and you’re just watching?"

Du Tao suddenly awoke, letting out a long howl. "Fallen brothers, today I, Du Tao, avenge you!"

Tears glistened in his eyes as he cast a spell; the Blood Pool churned, four blood-red chains shot out, wrapping around the altar, yanking it toward the pool.

Cui Yun’s rage boiled, and he spat, "You foolish waste! You dare betray me? If you weren’t blood-spirited, you’d have become Blood Pool fodder long ago. Everything you have, I gave you and can take it back at any moment!"

He drew a small flag, waved it, and Du Tao cried out in agony, tumbling into the Blood Pool, instantly engulfed and dissolved into its crimson depths. The flag waved again, and the four blood chains lashed toward Ge Qian.

Ge Qian pointed, and the Infernal Sword Qi of the Blood Pool flashed, absorbing its blood essence. The other seventeen Infernal Sword Qi beams crisscrossed, slicing at the chains.

The Infernal Sword Qi drank greedily, siphoning blood from the pool. As the pool’s dense blood aura thinned and faded, its power diminished.