Starting as The Young Master of A Pharmacy, He Trained Swordsmanship in Seclusion For Twenty Years - Chapter 41

With the mountain stronghold’s gate now gone, the scene inside came into full view.

The stronghold was empty, the ground littered with chaotic footprints and patches of still-wet blood. A thick, metallic stench hung in the air, so overpowering it turned the stomach.

At first, Li Yanran had been indifferent, but the moment she took in this ghastly sight, her expression twisted in horror.

“No!”

In the next instant, she shot toward the heart of the stronghold like an arrow. Seeing this, Su Tianqi and Chen Lingfeng immediately gave chase.

…..

The Stronghold’s Main Hall

The floor of the hall was covered in bones—picked clean—while the ground itself was stained a sinister, bloody red, as if soaked in some unnatural liquid.

A gaunt, withered figure stood in the center: Fang Sheng. His hands clutched something unidentifiable as he frantically shoved it into his mouth. Thick red liquid dripped from his fingers onto the floor.

“Not enough!”

“Still not enough!”

“Where is everyone? Where did they all go?!”

Fang Sheng hurled the bone in his hand aside, his crazed eyes scanning the room. There was nothing left to consume.

“No!”

“White Lotus Cult!”

“You bastards! You demonic liars!”

“You deceived me!”

Fang Sheng threw his head back and howled, his mind finally clearing.

The sea of bones around him left no doubt about what he had just done.

Tears of blood streaked down his sunken cheeks. Overwhelming disgust and burning hatred for the White Lotus Cult consumed him. He desperately wanted to vomit up everything he had eaten—but it was impossible.

Because everything he had consumed had already been absorbed by the white lotus embedded in his chest.

And the fleshy embryo growing upon that lotus had now swollen to an enormous size.

It had detached from Fang Sheng’s body, connected only by a thin, sinewy root. The membrane of the embryo stretched taut, a grotesque, twisted face pressing against it—as if it would burst free at any moment.

“Stop! I don’t want to die!”

“White Lotus Cult!”

“I’ll haunt you even as a ghost!”

Fang Sheng could feel it—his life force was being ruthlessly drained by the white lotus. His already emaciated body withered further, skin clinging to bone in a horrifying spectacle.

Just then, a figure streaked into the hall like lightning.

It was Li Yanran.

Her eyes locked onto the fleshy embryo before Fang Sheng, and horror twisted her features.

“A White Lotus Blood Infant!”

“How is this possible? Fang Sheng, you actually used the Sacred Seed?!”

Fang Sheng lifted his head at her arrival, his final gaze filled with bitter resentment as it flickered toward the figures outside.

“The Blackfeather Guard… Heh heh heh—”

Before his laughter could finish, his body collapsed—all flesh gone, leaving only a sack of skin and bones crumpling to the ground.

Fang Sheng was dead.

Just like that, the infamous bandit lord of Blackwind Stronghold—hunted relentlessly by the Blackfeather Guard—had perished without so much as a ripple.

Yet Li Yanran felt no relief.

Her entire body tensed as she stared at the pulsating embryo.

The White Lotus Blood Infant was an abomination birthed from the Sacred Seed, possessing strength rivaling a Bloodforge martial artist. Worse, its body was infused with the White Lotus’s corrupt energy, making it resistant to even the most overwhelming Bloodforge-level attacks.

A single Bloodforge warrior stood no chance—their only hope was to flee.

Only multiple Bloodforge experts working in unison could hope to wear it down.

Or…

A warrior of the next realm.

An Inner Breath master.

Only the power of Heavenly Qi could purify the White Lotus’s corruption, stripping the Blood Infant of its strength and destroying it for good.

This was why the Blackfeather Guard had pursued Fang Sheng so relentlessly.

And why the White Lotus Cult was outlawed by the Great Xia Dynasty.

These Blood Infants were man-made horrors—artificial abominations, weaker than true supernatural evils, but deadly all the same.

Fortunately, birthing one was no easy feat. It required the life force of a Bloodforge martial artist as fuel.

Even then, the Sacred Seed had to be willingly accepted—otherwise, the warrior’s own blood energy would incinerate it instantly.

Li Yanran had already decided.

She turned to run.

But at that moment, two more figures burst into the hall—Su Tianqi and Chen Lingfeng, finally catching up.

“Commander Li! What’s wrong?”

They didn’t need an explanation.

Their eyes landed on the fleshy embryo and the eerie white lotus atop it.

Even the usually silent Chen Lingfeng paled in terror. Su Tianqi staggered back, his voice trembling.

“What—what is that?!”

“A White Lotus Blood Infant!”

Li Yanran snapped back to reality. “RUN!”

The moment the words left her lips—

CRACK!

The embryo ruptured.

A small, blood-drenched figure emerged—no larger than a newborn, its eyes glowing with ghostly white light.

A gust of wind shrieked—

THUD!

Chen Lingfeng, who had just reached the doorway, suddenly lurched. A gaping hole had been torn through his chest.

From the bloody cavity, they could see the Blood Infant standing behind him.

Its pale, skeletal fingers clutched a still-beating heart.

It shoved the organ into its mouth—and swallowed.

Li Yanran struck instantly.

Her sword flashed, slicing the Blood Infant into pieces.

But it was futile.

The creature’s flesh knit itself back together before their eyes.

Then its eerie white pupils locked onto Li Yanran.

In the next heartbeat, it blurred into motion—

SLASH!

Li Yanran was sent flying, her sword clattering to the ground. When she staggered back up, a deep gash ran down her left thigh, the wound hissing as her blood energy fought against the invasive corruption.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she stared in dread at the Blood Infant.

Su Tianqi didn’t hesitate.

He turned and bolted for the stronghold’s exit.

The Blood Infant’s head snapped toward him—

And it gave chase.

At the stronghold’s gate, another figure appeared.

Lu Xuan.

He hadn’t returned to the city after all.

Not until he was sure the bandits had been wiped out.