Chapter 3: Absorbing the Millennium Spirit Ring, First Encounter with Zhu Zhuqing

Purple Soul Ring!
A millennium in age!
Li Zexian, utterly drained, sank to the ground.
Though it seemed he had only struck a single sword, in truth, that one strike had gathered all his soul power.
If it couldn’t kill the female Azure Mantis, he would have to flee.

After regaining some strength, Li Zexian staggered toward the purple soul ring.
His once-handsome face, now stained and weary, flickered with hesitation.
“The female mantis, after devouring the male, evolved to a soul ring a thousand years old.”
“That far exceeds the absorption limit of a first soul ring.”
“But if I don’t absorb it...”
“It would be such a waste!”
“How much longer must I search to find a suitable soul ring?”
“Besides, the older the soul ring, the more powerful the soul skill it grants!”

Li Zexian took a deep gulp of wine.
Feeling his soul power gradually replenish, the doubt in his eyes transformed into resolve and pride.
“Such an opportunity right before me—if I let it slip, I am no longer Li Zexian!”
“With the healing power of the Wine Martial Soul, I will succeed!”

Without hesitation, Li Zexian sat cross-legged.
With each sip of wine, his depleted soul power grew abundant, adjusting his state to perfection.
His eyes shone brightly as he began absorbing the soul ring!

Buzz—!
The strange energy of the purple soul ring, bearing the swiftness and sharpness of the Azure Mantis, violently surged into Li Zexian’s body.

“Hmph!”
A muffled groan escaped him, crimson dripping from the corner of his mouth.
Veins bulging on his forehead, every inch of his skin felt as if pierced by a razor sword.
The energy of the thousand-year soul ring rampaged within him, blood vessels bulging like a purple dragon winding through, leaking drops of blood.

Typically, even a genius with exceptional physical strength, absorbing a first soul ring of four or five hundred years is an extraordinary feat.
But Li Zexian?
His first soul ring was a thousand years old—truly terrifying!

He gritted his teeth tightly.
His blood-soaked white shirt clung to his back.
His fingers dug deeply into the earth, his dark eyes blazing with unyielding tenacity.

“I said...”
“I, Li Zexian!”
“Am no ordinary man!”
“I will do what others cannot endure!”
“Like the great roc rising with the wind, soaring ninety thousand miles high!”
“Absorb—this—soul ring!”

The celadon gourd floated before him.
He grasped it firmly, tilted his neck back, and swallowed the wine and blood mixture.
His battered body began to heal.

Fueled by fierce determination, Li Zexian intensified his absorption.

Buzz—!
The purple soul ring trembled.
A torrent of energy flooded his body like a floodgate opening.
His healing body was torn apart once more.

But instantly, another gulp of wine.

Thus, Li Zexian endured injury, healing, injury, and healing again.
This cycle was akin to torture.
Yet his physical strength steadily increased.

The purple soul ring floating before him gradually faded without his notice.

...

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