Ten Thousand Reincarnations: From a Wasted Spirit Root to Ascension Beyond the Heavens

On a battlefield where blood-cawing crows circled overhead, Wang Ergou stood on the head of the Shadow Guard commander and drove his five fingers into the man’s dantian. A pagoda soared into the sky.

“A Golden Core? Nothing but blood food.” He crushed the struggling core and swallowed it with the rain, the metallic sweetness sliding down his throat.

Behind him lay the bodies of his fellow disciples: all thirteen who had shielded his escape had been silenced with a single sword stroke, their wounds rimmed with thin frost.

“Cold-blooded madman!” The survivors shivered and backed away, unaware that the frost was the killing intent he was desperately struggling to suppress.