However, at that very moment, Henry Sutton suddenly stepped forward, revealing himself and walking out from the mist.

The shadowy figure’s heart tightened, suddenly gripped by a sense of dread and terror.

“This…”

The shadow’s gaze froze, and he saw that Henry Sutton, emerging from the mist, now held something in his hand—a gourd.

He himself was a man above men, with profound cultivation and an innate ability to seek fortune and avoid disaster. Even though this was just a strand of his divine sense, he still possessed a premonition of danger.

At this moment, upon seeing the gourd, the shadow felt a chill envelop his entire body in an instant.

He had no time to react before he saw Henry Sutton sneer coldly, holding the gourd with both hands and presenting it forward.

Then, Henry Sutton withdrew his hands.

The gourd hovered in midair.

At this moment, the appearance of the gourd was clearly visible to the man in black robes.

The gourd was entirely red, resembling stone, appearing ancient and mottled.

“This…” The man was inexplicably alarmed at the sight, a sudden chill rising from his spine to the back of his head, penetrating his very bones.

He wanted to act quickly and kill Henry Sutton at once to eliminate future trouble, but upon seeing the gourd, a desire to retreat arose in his heart.

While he was still hesitating, Henry Sutton revealed a faint smile, made a respectful gesture with both hands, bowed, and spoke:

“Please, treasure, reveal yourself!”

As his words fell, a white beam of light suddenly rose from the gourd, as thin as a thread, reaching three zhang high.

Atop the thin thread was a spiritual creature, with eyes and brows, wings sprouting from its back, about seven and a half inches long.

The creature looked down, its eyes meeting those of the man.

The man only felt a buzzing in his mind, his consciousness scattering, his vision going blank—he lost all sense of direction.

Henry Sutton bowed again and said, “Please, treasure, turn around!”

As soon as he finished, the creature atop the gourd’s thread spun three times.

The man’s body went limp, his knees hit the ground, and he lowered his head.

As he bowed his head, it fell off, dropping into the mist.

Boom!

In an instant, this strand of the man’s divine sense was decapitated; both head and body turned to smoke and dust, dissipating into the air.

A wisp of his yin spirit scattered in the sea of consciousness.

“The inheritance of Lu Ya is in my sea of consciousness, transformed into this Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger. The sea of consciousness of your Little Sutton is impervious to all evil—one comes, one is slain; two come, both are slain!”

“What yin spirit? What man above men?”

“I can’t fail to kill you!”

Henry Sutton exhaled and took the gourd back in both hands.

But at that moment, the hazy sea of consciousness suddenly surged with monstrous waves.

Heaven and earth shook, the ten directions trembled.

“What’s going on?”

Before Henry Sutton could react, the body manifested in his sea of consciousness was suddenly scattered by the waves, dissolving into the world.

But Henry Sutton’s consciousness remained.

Henry Sutton’s spirit felt incomparably refreshed.

He immediately realized that this was a tremendous opportunity.

“A strand of this guy’s yin spirit was devoured by my sea of consciousness and became my nourishment?”

Chapter 10: Northern Gu Dao

The North.

The great mountains were desolate, the wilderness dark.

Within the mountain cliffs, a sect was hidden.

Inside the sect, in a quiet chamber, a man sat cross-legged, dressed in black robes, appearing elderly, as if in his sixties, cultivating with slow, steady breaths.

His aura was cold and sinister, making the chamber feel chilling—an anomaly brought about by his profound cultivation.

At this moment, the elder’s brows twitched, as if he was controlling something.

After a while, the aged elder suddenly opened his eyes, which were cold and fierce, his face twisted with rage as he shouted, “You little brat! How dare you sever my divine sense!”

As his words fell, his face instantly turned pale.

With a splutter, the black-robed elder spat out a mouthful of blood, staining the ground.

He felt darkness before his eyes and immediately collapsed onto his back.

The quiet chamber fell silent.

After an unknown amount of time, a voice suddenly came from outside the door, sounding like a child, respectfully saying, “Elder, the sect master has come to visit.”

There was no response from within the chamber.

The child outside asked again.

Still, there was no answer from within.

The child, now somewhat worried, cautiously opened the stone door. Upon seeing the scene inside, he was instantly shocked and his face turned ashen.

On the stone bed, the black-robed elder lay on his back, his breathing weak, his vitality fading.

On the ground before him, the blood had nearly congealed.

“Elder…”

The child hurried forward, utterly terrified.

…

About half an hour later.

There was now another person in the quiet chamber.

This man looked middle-aged, with the air of a scholar, but his expression was cold. He looked down for a moment and said, “Elder Rowe had a strand of his divine sense severed, suffering grievous injuries and falling into a coma. Whether he can awaken in the future depends on his own fate.”

The child trembled with fear, bowing deeply, not daring to speak.

The middle-aged scholar closed his eyes slightly, understanding in his heart that this Elder Rowe had lost a part of his yin spirit. Whether he could awaken was uncertain, and even if he did, his mind would never be as complete as before. Though he might not become a fool, his temperament and actions would inevitably be lacking—after all, he was missing a strand of his soul.

But which part of his soul was missing? And what aspect did it represent?