Your Spell Version is Too Low!

The corners of his blood-red lips curled into an enigmatic smile. He casually raised a hand and beckoned toward the Seventh Princess.

WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH—

Several Blood Shadows, more solid and radiating an even colder aura than before, shot out from the Blood Sea. They brought her before Nether Spring, and...

...before Xuan Ming, who had been shielded behind Nether Spring by an unseen aura, silently witnessing the entire ordeal.

The Seventh Princess struggled to lift her head. Her eyes first met the cold, sinister, blood-red pupils of Nether Spring, and a shudder ran through her.

Then, she saw Xuan Ming standing beside him, his expression complex and his eyes vacant. As if grasping at a final straw, a fierce light erupted in her desolate eyes—a mixture of pleading, remorse, and one last sliver of hope.

Nether Spring, however, didn’t even spare her a glance. He turned to the side, extended a hand with a smile, and gently patted Xuan Ming’s rigid shoulder.

"She’s all yours."

His voice was gentle, carrying a hint of encouragement.

With that said, he paid no more mind to what was behind him. His blood-red robes swished as he began to walk, unhurried, toward the Bixuan Dragon King, who was struggling to stay upright in the distance.

His steps landed on the viscous Blood Sea, yet they only created the faintest ripples. He moved without a sound, yet his approach carried the oppressive weight of Death itself, causing the arms the Bixuan Dragon King used to prop himself up to tremble uncontrollably.

Only Xuan Ming and the Seventh Princess, who was staring up at him, remained.

A sea breeze, thick with the stench of blood and filth, blew past, lifting the Seventh Princess’s disheveled and brittle hair.

She looked at Xuan Ming—the "Prince Consort" she had handpicked, treated as a mere Furnace Cauldron, and who, at the final moment, had not pointed her out. Regret and the will to survive churned within her.

"Xuan... Xuan Ming..." Her voice was hoarse and dry, completely stripped of its former clear, delicate charm. Every word seemed to be squeezed out of a broken bellows.

"I... I was wrong... For the sake of the Dragon Palace treating you well... for the Cultivation Skills and resources I gave you..."

She struggled, trying to inch closer to Xuan Ming. Tears welled in her eyes, mixing with the blood and grime on her face, making her look utterly wretched and pathetic.

"We were husband and wife, if only for a day... that should count for something... Xuan Ming, let me go... Please... I’m willing to be your servant, your slave, to wait on you... I know many of the Dragon Palace’s secret treasures... I’ll tell you everything... I just beg you... spare my life..."

She rambled incoherently, throwing out every reason, every bargaining chip, every subservient plea she could think of, desperate to move the silent man before her.

She knew the gentle, even cowardly, part of Xuan Ming’s nature all too well.

This was her last chance.

Xuan Ming stood in silence, his eyes lowered, gazing at the woman at his feet. She had once been high and mighty, the master of his fate, but now she groveled like filth, begging for her life.

The look in his eyes was incredibly complex.

The Seventh Princess’s sobs and pleas washed over him, relentlessly striking his eardrums.

Suddenly, he let out a soft laugh.

It was a faint, almost ephemeral smile, like the brief shimmer of the moon breaking through the clouds.

Seeing that smile, the Seventh Princess’s despairing heart leaped. An unbelievable, ecstatic joy erupted in the depths of her desolate eyes!

’He smiled!’

’He smiled at me!’

’His heart softened!’

’He’s going to let me go!’

’I knew it! This weak, stupid man is still just as I thought...’

Her ecstatic thought had not yet finished forming.

SQUELCH!

The dull, clean sound of tearing flesh rang out, instantly shattering all her fantasies and her relief!

The ecstatic expression on the Seventh Princess’s face froze. Slowly, she looked down toward the spot between her eyebrows.

The tip of a short, ancient-looking dagger, glinting with a cold light, was protruding from the center of the top of her skull!

The blade was stained with pale golden brain matter and bone fragments.

This was the dagger she had once gifted to Xuan Ming. It was an ordinary Magical Artifact forged by a Dragon Palace Artifact Refiner, neither particularly sharp nor possessing any special Divine Techniques.

She had never imagined that one day it would appear like this, embedded in her own skull.

Her eyes widened. The last image reflected in her pupils was Xuan Ming’s face—still calm, yet tinged with a hint of relief and cruelty—and his hand, gripping the hilt of the dagger without the slightest tremor.

Slowly, forcefully, Xuan Ming pushed the dagger in until the hilt disappeared.

Then, he gave his wrist a sharp twist!

SQUISH SQUISH SQUISH—

A series of scalp-tingling, muffled squelches, the sound of brains and bone being churned, echoed from within the Seventh Princess’s skull.

Her body convulsed violently a few times before the last spark of light in her eyes scattered and died.

Her ecstasy froze into an eternal mask of terror and disbelief. Her head fell limp, all signs of life gone.

The Blood Shadows holding her down loosened their grip at the perfect moment, and her corpse collapsed like a rag doll, falling softly onto the sullied surface of the Blood Sea.

Xuan Ming released the dagger and took half a step back. He stared quietly at the Seventh Princess’s corpse, his chest rising and falling slightly, his breathing a little ragged.

But his eyes gradually grew calm, even vacant.

Up ahead, Nether Spring’s steps never faltered as he continued his slow walk toward the Bixuan Dragon King.

However, upon hearing the series of squelching sounds from behind, the smile on his lips deepened ever so slightly.

"This boy is teachable."

...

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