His fingertip touched the edge of the scale.

Zi——!

An astonishing heat instantly transmitted, as if it wanted to burn the remaining flesh as well!

The scale seemed to have life, resisting all plunderers!

"Come... out!!"

Fang Qingyu let out a hoarse, broken low growl, his teeth almost grinding to pieces!

Inside him, the Red Bright Tribulation Jade, under this stimulation, also revived and jumped violently, the remaining bit of scorching tribulation power frantically injecting into his arms!

Splurdch!

With the sound of tearing through sticky flesh and tendons!

That radiant "Red Python Scale" was forcibly, bloodily uprooted by Fang Qingyu from the corpse of the Pang Snake!

At the very moment the Red Python Scale left the corpse, the long-silent diagram in Fang Qingyu's mind suddenly vibrated!

[Detected upgrade material 'Red Python Scale' (color quality)!]

[Would you like to use the material to advance 'Martial Artist' profession?]

[Prerequisite unmet, need 'Martial Artist' professional level to reach Level 3, core skills perfected, advancement failed.]

But there was no time to look at the prompt now.

Fang Qingyu immediately turned around and activated Thunder Instant Cloud Trace.

Zila——!

The scars on his legs split again in the rush, leaving a crimson trail on the ground.

But Fang Qingyu was completely unaware!

His eyes were fixed on a huge crack, gentler in collapse from the tremor, appeared in front!

Boom——!

A boulder as big as a house nearly brushed against their backs as it crashed heavily!

Kicking up a monstrous wave of dust!

With Jiang Wei in his arms, Fang Qingyu darted into the relatively slowly crumbling narrow crevice like a moth drawn to a flame without hesitation!

Dust filled the air, pebbles rolled down.

The collapse finally slowly settled.

Who knows how long it passed, perhaps a few minutes, perhaps hours.

In a tiny hollow formed in a massive rock layer before being completely sealed off by boulders and rock layers.

Fang Qingyu leaned against the cold, rough rock wall, his body limp as if all bones were removed, sliding down, with the wound on his chest splitting open again from the intense escape, soaking and dyeing the combat suit into a dark black, with each breath painfully tearing through his lungs.

His left arm twisted at a strange angle, the broken bone piercing through the flesh, exposing a ghastly white stump.

Jiang Wei, protected by his side, had her small body curled up, her face pale as paper, breathing faint and finally stabilizing, with orange-red force field weakly circulating, arduously repairing her overstrained meridians and spirit.

The entrance to the abyssal underground cave completely collapsed.

Burying them along with the Pang Snake's corpse, the iridescent Red Python Scale.

Only cold ashes mixed with the chilly murky underground river water dripped along the rock crevices, making a monotonous dead silence of dripping sounds.

A suffocating scent of blood, mixed with sulfur and rock dust, enveloped the air.

Fang Qingyu panted rapidly.

Every breath accompanied by an uncontrollable cough, blood foam oozing from the corners of his mouth.

With difficulty, he raised the only slightly moveable right hand.

The burnt, bloodied and blistering hand laboriously reached into his chest.

Warm.

The piece of "Red Python Scale" was still there.

Fang Qingyu turned his head, his blood-streaked eyes gazing at Jiang Wei, curled in the damp corner of the stone crevice beside him, eyes tightly shut, too weak even to wipe the grime off her face.

"Cough cough..." Fang Qingyu's voice was harsh as if sandpaper scratching, broken and battered, "Are you going to make me go back on my word?"

Jiang Wei's long, bloodstained and ashen eyelashes trembled ever so slightly.

Struggled for a while before she forced open a small slit with her eyelids, her clear pupils now dim, reflecting the sorry sight of Fang Qingyu.

She didn't speak, just a very slight, almost imperceptible shake of her little head.

"Heh..." Fang Qingyu tugged at the corner of his mouth, trying to smile, but it triggered a sharp chest pain, turning into a shattered choking cough, releasing more blood foam.

He ultimately gave up on the futile attempt, simply moving the hand grasping the Red Python Scale fragment, against the cold rock ground, slightly towards Jiang Wei's direction.

The glow of the color scale seemed to ripple slightly along with his arm's movement.

Cold stone debris mixed with fishy-smelling rain pelted his face.

"Tired...?"

Using the last bit of strength, Fang Qingyu squeezed this broken sound from the depths of his throat.

Hearing those familiar words in such a hellish scene, Jiang Wei seemed momentarily stunned, and a flicker of something extremely faint, absurd yet naturally right, seemed to flash in her dim eyes.

She remained silent for a while, as if seriously pondering whether her disassembled feeling could be described as "tired."

Finally, she very slowly, minimally nodded her head, a barely audible, weakly breathed voice struggled to come out:

"Hmm... a bit."

The voice was so light it was almost drowned out by the cool dripping water above.

Fang Qingyu finally cracked a smile with his cracked and bloodstained lips, the curve no longer sharp or defiant, only filled with the relief of both surviving.

No more words were said, and his hand grasping the color scale also slackened down, pressing against the cold, damp ground.

Only a faint sigh-like breathing persevered, in this narrow rock slit washed by icy ashen rains, isolated in the deepest part of hell.

"Alright..." Almost like a somniloquy syllable escaped through his blood-stained lips and teeth. "Then... let's rest a bit..."

As his voice faded, Fang Qingyu's eyelids, stained with blood and ash, heavily closed.

In the cold, desperate abyss beneath, only the stubbornly flickering iridescent glow illuminated the two curled shadows stained red with blood in the stone crevices.

...

Shangjing City.

Deep within the "Dragon Abyss Pavilion" Martial Arts Hall.

Incense curls, filled with ancient charm.

An officer clad in Divine Management Bureau standard combat gear, dusty and fatigued, nearly crashed through the door of the quiet chamber, his face with urgency and horror.

"Pavilion Master! Urgent report from Songdu! The sky has fallen!" The officer's voice was hoarse and trembling, incoherent, "Sikong Zhen of 'Pan Yan' has betrayed! Colluding with Molting Level Life Ghosts! Four top beings trapped in the core area, life or death uncertain! The message sent back by Junior Sister Wei... below the pit... there's more below..."

The middle-aged man trembled, finishing the dreadful news with what seemed to be all his strength, subconsciously lifting his head to seek that Stabilizing Needle-like support.

However...

Behind the ancient sandalwood desk, on the mat where someone once sat with closed eyes, there was no one.

Only on the tabletop.

The cup of freshly steaming green tea, the tea water verdant and slightly rippling, with steam silently drifting a thin wisp of white smoke upwards...

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