George Washington was still struggling in pain, and from time to time, mournful wails echoed from the sky. William Harper was like a hunter, relentlessly chasing his wounded prey after shooting it, waiting for it to tire out and bleed dry—then the harvest would naturally become easy.

After tracking across the plains for three days, William Harper finally caught up with George Washington. George Washington collapsed in the snow, already on the verge of death.

George Washington was in a dying state, and giving the enemy no chance to survive was William Harper's principle. He raised his hand like a blade.

There was a patch of deep black dragon scale on George Washington's neck, forming a stark contrast with the light gray scales beside it. This was the dragon race's reverse scale, also their most vulnerable spot.

Just as William Harper's hand-blade was about to strike, George Washington suddenly struggled, and a sharp spike on its head stabbed toward William Harper.

William Harper rolled to the side, pushed off the ground, and easily dodged George Washington's attack. His hand-blade slashed at George Washington's reverse scale, piercing into George Washington's body. Bits of dragon flesh splattered, but there was no blood—its blood had almost all drained away. George Washington struggled for a moment, its body convulsing, and finally lay still.

His palm felt as if it had been stung by something, **** unbearably painful. William Harper pulled his hand out, only to see a large patch of black spreading across his palm. This blackness was rapidly expanding, as if something was slowly dissolving and devouring his blood.

Poison?

William Harper took out a bottle of ultimate antidote and gulped it down, hoping it would work.

Looking at the massive body of George Washington beside him, William Harper was excited. George Washington was a treasure trove, and luckily his soul ring had enough space inside.

William Harper took a small knife forged from ten-thousand-year meteorite cold iron out of his backpack. It felt like a tiny scalpel in his hand, but it was the sharpest thing William Harper had ever seen, able to easily cut through any hard object. Moreover, this knife had no level requirement.

William Harper named it the Cold Iron Scalpel, used specifically for dissection.

He began dissecting George Washington, first stripping off the dragon scales, tendons, whiskers, bones, and so on, as well as a full twenty sets of dragon meat. Time passed quickly inside the soul ring, so ordinary food couldn't be stored, but fortunately, dragon meat wouldn't rot. Unfortunately, all the dragon blood had drained away, and he only managed to collect a small bottle. That dragon blood was an excellent treasure for tempering magical artifacts and refining the body. After peeling open the dragon's body, a deep green crystal the size of a head appeared in William Harper's view, like a giant crystal ball, with his reflection clearly projected on its surface.

This giant crystal ball was a rare treasure—the dragon gallbladder—filled with dragon bile. Every drop was a priceless treasure; just one drop could allow a master at the Lord God level to ascend to God King. Of course, anyone who consumed dragon bile needed a strong enough body, or else the energy within would make them explode.

While collecting the dragon's corpse, William Harper discovered that George Washington had dropped something—it looked like a skill book. It was an ancient and tattered book, its cover extremely damaged. He picked it up and took a look.

Ancestral Dragon Manual: Primordial Secret Art.

William Harper read the introduction to the Ancestral Dragon Manual. It was the secret technique cultivated by George Washington. The manual had nine levels in total; reaching the seventh level would make one a God King, the eighth level an Ancient God, and the ninth level a Primordial God.

The cultivation method William Harper practiced was just a second- or third-rate one, but with his extraordinary intelligence, he constantly modified his technique and forcibly broke through from Lord God to God King. However, he hadn't expected that above Lord God and God King, there were even stronger Ancient God and Primordial God levels.

As long as he had the manual, William Harper had no doubt about his own abilities.

He turned to the second page, which listed the cultivation requirements. First, one must have George Washington's bloodline or have their soul baptized by George Washington's blood. Second, one must start cultivating from a mortal body.

The first requirement was met. After being drenched in George Washington's blood, William Harper found that his soul had undergone a strange transformation—his primordial spirit turned from clear to a mass of chaotic haze. As for the second requirement, if William Harper wanted to cultivate, he would have to abolish all his God King-level power and start over with the Ancestral Dragon Manual. This demand was too harsh for William Harper, and there was no way to achieve it. Many of his enemies were Lord God-level experts; if he lost all his power, he would never have a chance to cultivate again.

"Forget it. What is meant to be will be, what is not meant to be, don't force it." William Harper sighed, tossing the Ancestral Dragon Manual into his soul ring.

William Harper got up to leave, but suddenly noticed his legs were a bit stiff, and the black area on his palm was slowly spreading, corroding his body.

Damn, it's not poison—it's soul corrosion! Only now did William Harper realize something was wrong.

Soul corrosion was a terrifying curse that would cause a player's entire body to rot and their soul to be drained to death.

If he died, he would have to wait five days for his soul to be reborn before he could re-enter the game. William Harper was about to log off and have a friend bring him Purification Divine Water, when a system prompt chilled his heart: the system notified him that the virtual device was experiencing an unknown reaction, had crashed, and he was unable to log off.

Damn it, how could the virtual device malfunction! According to tests, the chance of that thing failing was only a few in a billion—less likely than being struck by lightning!