On the third-to-last day, as soon as the spiritual pressure erupted, Yang Zicang rushed to the site of the battle.

On the flying carpet, Yang Zicang saw that the kid, who had already regrown his arm, was being pursued by a group of people. The team, from who-knows-which city number, had somehow managed to funnel in a whole crowd of people.

Below, the crowd of people were armed with weapons, staring at the massive Bound Spirit that emerged from around the corner.

“It’s appeared!”

“As the lord said, Hong Haocheng can indeed summon that monster.”

Before anyone could speak, the earth trembled violently, and amidst a thunderous roar, a boulder, like a cannonball fired from its barrel, was kicked straight toward them by the giant!

Boom!

The earth was gouged into a trench stained with blood, a mere ten or so of the original thirty-plus pursuers remaining on the periphery, their swords trembling in their grips, their legs wobbling in fear.

With a single move, Bo’an had slain so many!

Hong Haocheng’s eyelids twitched several times; he turned, took a deep breath, and said, “Scram now, any more efforts will just be a waste!”

“Ah!” Yet one among the survivors suddenly let out a roar, gripping his sword as he charged at Hong Haocheng with a mix of terror and frenzy.

“Aaaaah, charge!”

The ten or so survivors rushed forward like madmen, swinging their longswords manically.

“You, all of you!” Hong Haocheng was stunned, and even Yang Zicang, watching from above, found it hard to believe.

Were these people truly insane? Their strength was nowhere near enough to withstand even a single strike from the Bound Spirit.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

Valiantly pressing forward without any fear of death, these men were, indeed, all killed in Bo’an’s opening attack. Yet those lying in the pool of blood, gasping their last breaths, had expressions of relief, as if not doing so would lead to something far more terrible than death.

In the end, all the attackers lay dead in their own blood, a light mist shrouding over thirty corpses.

{They clearly hadn’t the power to defeat me.}

The rotating whirlpool on Bo’an’s face suddenly froze.

A figure emerged from the chaos of the woods in the distance.

“My understanding of you has reached ninety percent.”

A soft and cold voice sounded.

A lady in a black dress emerged from the dim light. To Bo’an’s astonishment, the earthly corpses had transformed into root-like energy tendrils that coiled around the very earth beneath his feet.

“Bo’an!” Hong Haocheng cried out in alarm from afar.

With a raise of the woman’s hand, these energy tendrils surged into a wall of blood, sealing off Hong Haocheng from the battle.

Patterns flickered across Bo’an’s back, yet he did not teleport himself away.

The woman smiled. “I made a special effort to study that sarcophagus and the power of the High Army. I think I’ve roughly grasped the theory behind it.”

As the vast sky-covering rushed closer, the woman’s expression slightly shifted. She fixed her gaze on the be bound spirit Bo’an and said,

“Hand over the data on the Swift Void Phantom, and I will let you leave.”

{You must be… dreaming!}

“Hmph!”

Seeing Yang Zicang drawing ever closer, the woman clenched her teeth and snapped her wrist forward. Crimson tendrils dug deep into the mass body of the Bound Spirit, draining its radiance and making it noticeably dull.

{You underestimate me far too much, HA!}

A wild power erupts! Vague, spectral images surrounded the Bound Spirit’s figure, like the small fleeting visions that emerged whenever Zhao Anlong and the other operatives activated their Bloodline Secret Energy.

With one decisive punch, Bo’an shattered those tendrils completely.

The woman didn’t get angry but laughed instead: “Heh heh, hehe. Just drain your strength away; you won’t be so lucky next time.”

A spear thrust out from the spinning black hole, and the woman in the black dress retreated rapidly, two figures charging forward to block in front of her.

The spear retracted into the hole, and the two who had braced themselves for death breathed a temporary sigh of relief.

Bo’an, having shattered the roots, was about to turn back when suddenly a large blanket wrapped around him.

“Up!” Yang Zicang leaped onto the large blanket wrapped around the Bound Spirit, intending to leave.

Underground, Hong Haocheng was frantic with worry.

“Are you guys crazy? Out of so many Bound Spirits, you just have to fixate on Bo’an.”

“So that’s what it’s called, Bo’an.”

Light flickered in Hong Haocheng’s hand.

[I have consumed 1N of principal to activate the Ether Tunnel Medal.]

The heavily layered giant blanket suddenly deflated.

The giant figure appeared in the dust cloud that abruptly burst behind Hong Haocheng. The moment it materialized, Bo’an’s massive hand grabbed the boy, and streaks of patterns appeared once more in the dust cloud behind.

But perhaps due to the lingering power of the red roots within, these expanding magic patterns did not fully emerge at once, and the sub-ether tunnel failed to manifest successfully.

Hong Haocheng was consumed by anxiety.

“Hurry up, he’s coming!”

[Dispatch!]

Yang Zicang controlled the giant carpet as it hurtled forward like a high-speed spinning steel plate. Faced with this relic left by a Saint, even Bo’an, endowed with a three-ring bloodline, stood no chance as an opponent.

Whoosh—this time, both were completely wrapped up by Yang Zicang.

“Damn it!” Hong Haocheng gritted his teeth, feeling as suffocated as if bound by layer upon layer of bedding. The boy muttered through the carpet in a muffled voice:

“I have a ‘Thousand-Soul Wish Charm.’ If I wish to leave together, will you follow me onto the Fate Track?”

{Only a Ten-Thousand-Soul grade would have a chance.}

“What’s this about a Ten-Thousand-Soul grade?” asked Yang Zicang, who was flying atop the carpet above them.

Hong Haocheng gritted his teeth and, for the first time, actively released a red thread model.

{Hey, that guy with the surname Wu, I’ve been caught by Yang Zicang. Come save us!}

In the tent, Cheng Yunze had been pondering who had been sneaking in to cause trouble lately, when suddenly Wu Yun rushed in joyfully.

“Boss, Captain, that bastard finally caved!”

“Who?” Startled for a moment, Cheng Yunze’s expression turned joyful. “Is it Hong Haocheng? Has he agreed to join us? Quick, get him over here!”

Could it be that he got cornered too hard and couldn’t take it anymore? In that case, he’d have to thank those who chased him these past few days.

But then Wu Yun suddenly stammered, and much of his delight faded:

“He’s been captured by Yang Zicang, and he wants us to go rescue him.”

“What!”

Cheng Yunze’s anger flared up instantly. He was this close to cursing out loud. Sure enough, that kid wouldn’t come seeking shelter for no reason—he’d been captured!

No one in the camp dared to speak, all watching as Cheng Yunze paced back and forth in agitation. How that fellow Hong Haocheng had acquired his bloodline was the topic of their chief captain’s nightly discussions lately; now that he’d been taken by Yang Zicang, Cheng feared that already formidable captain of the construction supply convoy would only grow stronger.

“It’s hopeless. Once he’s with Yang Zicang, he’ll definitely be sent to the Freq-Shifted Land right away.”

Cheng Yunze had already gotten in touch with Ning Jiajia through the construction wasteland team. Lately, that woman was in the Freq-Shifted Land kneading coarse-grain buns; she had to make a hundred every day, or else she got no food and no water.

No one gets a good deal in the Freq-Shifted Land. Even with Hong Haocheng’s bloodline, he’d probably end up chopping wood and splitting firewood there obediently.

…..

Nearby in the camp, the huge carpet slowly descended and landed on the ground.

The crowd was about to gather around and watch, but Luo Bin shouted them to a stop. Yang Zicang suspected that someone among these very people had leaked the scene from that time.

Though it was certain, who exactly had tipped off that woman in the black dress remained unclear. If it wasn’t intentional, fine; but if it was, then every move he made here was being spied on.

Yang Zicang somewhat regretted using the book pages to secure entry slots; the personnel were far too mixed. And as for the idea of establishing a long-term base, he temporarily shelved it. Such a base could only be built on the foundation of trustworthy people, and this camp could not serve as their stronghold within City 11.

“Hey, are you two alright in there?” Yang Zicang gave the thick, tightly bundled giant carpet a kick with his foot.

Inside, the only part of the person that could move was their nose. The Bound Spirit, for its part, also dared not exert its full strength to break free, afraid of harming the young man beside it. Therefore, in response to Yang Zicang’s inquiry, the Bound Spirit answered frankly:

{What is it that you want? Please spare him, and I will try my best to satisfy you, even if it costs me my life.}

“Bo’an!”

{It’s alright. My fate has already been sealed.}

Yang Zicang said, “I want to attach Virtual Zero Sequence to my weapon. It’s as simple as that. Oh, right, it’s a Century Weapon.”

{I understand. That will require ten Bound Spirits Cores infused with bloodlines.}

“Do you really understand? When you first became a Bound Spirit, this kind of rule probably didn’t even exist, right?”

{Beichuang has informed me of it long ago.}

Yang Zicang scratched his head. “So that’s it. In that case, did it truly consider you to be a person, even now? Meaning, even you are qualified to forge a Virtual Zero Sequence Timeline Weapon?”

{No, I am not qualified. For I am a sinner.}

Hong Haocheng fumed in frustration: “Yang Zicang, all because of some trifling matter like this, you chased after us for so long!”

“Don’t frame me. Other than the first day, it wasn’t me, okay? And besides, Hong Haocheng, not to blame you, but if you’d said your name earlier, none of this mess would have happened.”

Inside, Hong Haocheng pricked up his ears, immediately sensing a plot afoot.

“Hmph, what trick are you trying to pull now? Are you saying that if I told you my name, you’d let me go?”

“Exactly.”

“Bullshit.” He shifted his body, undoubtedly and futilely struggling.”

Yang Zicang briefly wanted to mention Moire’s call from the future, but thought that might recklessly alter the timeline, so he pursed his lips and bit back the words.

Hearing no response, Hong Haocheng shouted from under the blanket, voice muffled into buzz.

“Go on, make something up! What, haven’t thought of the next part yet? Want me to spin the story for you?”

Yang Zicang chuckled. “Heh, take a guess. But I’m not giving you a straight answer.”

A flicker of suspicion ran through Hong Haocheng’s mind. Not Xufei. He let out in a firm voice: “Is there someone else who knows I exists?”

“Oh,” Yang Zicang’s lips parted in surprise.

{You guessed right,} said Bo’an.

“What!” Hong Haocheng looked astounded.

He wouldn’t trust a word from Yang Zicang, but he instintively trusted the bound spirit’s words.

“Who told you?” came the tense query from under the tapestry.

At this moment, Yang Zicang felt caught out on a limb.

“Oh well, this is no big deal. Consider yourself meeting a fortune teller.”

“Did a woman tell you that?”

Yang Zicang pondered over Lady Maiya, then thought of that telephone Demonic Nightmare.

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean ‘not exactly’? Yes means yes, no means no.”

“It has little to do with that lady. Alright, I don’t have time to play guessing games with you. Hey, you, if you’re willing to help me collect ten Core of Bloodline Bound Spirits, I’ll let him go. Of course, that means going to the Frequency-Lost Land.”

{Alright.}

With Bo’an’s response, the giant blanket slowly turned, revealing the bound spirit’s body, while Yang Zicang remained on guard against Hong Haocheng’s attempt to escape.

As Bo’an rose from the ground, Hong Haocheng’s sharp voice screamed hoarsely:

“No, Bo’an, don’t listen to him. I can cut and run anytime, but you can’t. You’ll end up—”

“It doesn’t matter. That was only a matter of time. Being able to wake up again and see the captain once more leaves me with no regrets.”