In the Age of Declining Dharma, spiritual energy ran dry. The genius cultivator Xu Lingyou created the Blood Spirit Art, refining innate qi from the blood of living beings and struggling to forge a path to immortality.
The righteous sects branded him a heretic and hunted him relentlessly. Just as he was about to die and lose his cultivation, his soul unexpectedly crossed over to Feileng City in the Steam Age.
Here, vampires, werewolves, undead, and all manner of monsters ran rampant.
Xu Lingyou realized...
“Hmm? Vampires are brimming with blood qi. One vampire is worth a hundred people. They’re practically the perfect material for cultivating the Blood Spirit Art!”
“Werewolves have such powerful physiques. If I can absorb a little of their essence, it’ll make my body-tempering cultivation twice as effective!”
“There are so many undead, too! Excellent, excellent. You’re all destined to join my Banner of Ten Thousand Souls and become a huge boon in my battles!”
“I thought I’d reached a dead end, but it turns out this world is crawling with talent!”
Years later, Xu Lingyou, now hailed as the savior of the continent, gave an interview.
“Mr. Xu, thank you for your enormous contribution to saving the world. What ideals drove you to do it?”
“I was merely pursuing my own path to the Great Dao.”
“The Great Dao? Oh, you mean that driving out the forces of darkness and destroying evil is the greatest wish of your life?”
Xu Lingyou looked strangely at the blue-eyed, blond reporter with her ample figure. “I’ve never had any such ridiculous thoughts.”
The reporter giggled. “Mr. Xu, you’re so modest!”
