"You all... why can’t you just die quietly?"

A voice as frigid as the Nine Nether Ice Soul suddenly echoed, its eerie tone seeping into their very bones, like the whispers of countless vengeful spirits.

Before the words had even faded, a stooped figure, gaunt as a dead tree, materialized from thin air. He appeared between the six Major Sects on one side and Ji Qinghui, Ji Qingkang, and their men on the other, forming an invisible barrier that blocked their reunion.

"Who are you?"

The man who had just appeared was ghastly pale, his face the color of paper. His emaciated body looked as if a gust of wind could snap it in two; he was the very picture of a man on his deathbed, wasting away from disease.

And yet, his bone-chilling words still echoed in their ears, and the bizarre aura clinging to him was as persistent as maggots on a corpse. All this made the brothers Ji Qinghui and Ji Qingkang halt in their tracks, their expressions as hard as iron.

As for Ji Chengping, he couldn’t contain his fury and roared, "Insolent cur! How dare you ambush us! Do you not fear the wrath of my father, the Prince?!"

"I am the son of the Prince! If I suffer even the slightest injury, you—and whoever is backing you—can expect to be hunted down by the entire Frost Moon Immortal Dynasty! You will never know another day of peace!"

Ji Chengping’s roar was brimming with arrogance and menace. But instead of inspiring a shred of fear in the consumptive man, his threats only drew a wild, defiant smile to his lips.

"Hunted? HAHAHA..." A violent cough ripped through his throat, yet his laughter only grew more rampant, a feverish flush spreading across his pallid cheeks. "As it is, your Frost Moon Immortal Dynasty is already hunting us with its full might. And yet, look—"

He opened his hand, a palm as gaunt as a branch, a wisp of grey-black mist swirling at his fingertips. "We’re still alive and well, aren’t we? COUGH COUGH..."

After the fit of coughing passed, his gaze turned savage. His tone grew cold enough to freeze one’s very Divine Soul, like a Nine Nether wind piercing their hearts. "You cannot kill us, and you most certainly cannot threaten me."

"Oh, and by the way, in your eyes, your title as the Prince’s son may be one of great honor and glory. But to people like me, you’re no different from anyone else—you’re all just a flock of livestock, a collection of sacrifices!"

As he spoke those last few words, Liu Yu of the Tuberculosis Lineage wore an unmistakable look of disdain.

His words were the spark that ignited the fury of the cultivators from the six Major Sects. "Livestock? Sacrifices? You depraved Cultist! What do you take us humans for?!"

The one who roared this time was one of the seven cultivators from the Major Sects who had just reached Foundation Establishment.

The surge in his cultivation and the explosion of his power had filled him with courage. He now unleashed the terrifying pressure of a Foundation Establishment cultivator, bearing down on the Cultist before him, clearly intending to strike.

Yet, in the face of a Foundation Establishment cultivator’s rage and intimidation, Liu Yu remained entirely unhurried and unafraid.

He gently tapped his withered fingers against his palm, his tone flat yet laced with a bone-chilling mockery.

"What do I take you for? Have I not already told you? A herd of worthless livestock. Sacrifices... This little operation is nothing more than a hunt. And you are the game."

BOOM!

Liu Yu’s contemptuous words and attitude finally snapped something in the Foundation Establishment cultivator’s mind. But at the peak of his rage, the cultivator unexpectedly began to laugh.

"A hunt?! HAHAHA! Fine! You’ve really outdone yourselves!"

Staring at Liu Yu, the cultivator’s expression twisted into a ferocious snarl. "Since you call this a hunt, then let’s just see who the real hunter is... and who’s the prey waiting to be slaughtered!"

After his furious bellow, the enraged Foundation Establishment cultivator prepared to strike.

But just as his Magical Power began to stir, he felt a sudden tickle in his throat, and an uncontrollable cough seized him.

"COUGH COUGH..."

The coughs were violent enough to tear his lungs apart, as if he were trying to hack up his own organs. To his horror, with every spasm, he could feel his Essence, Qi, and Spirit draining away like a receding tide. Sharp, stabbing pains, like a thousand needles, lanced through his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys.

The more he tried to circulate his Magical Power, the more violent the coughing became. The more he coughed, the weaker he grew. And his weakness only intensified the itch in his throat, trapping him in an inescapable, vicious cycle. The color drained from his face.

"I’ve been... afflicted? When?!"

SPURT...

His pupils contracted in disbelief as a black, frothy mixture of blood and organ fragments dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

"COUGH COUGH..."

"Damn it... my body... COUGH COUGH..."

"Hold your breath! The air is poisoned!"

As if the affliction were contagious, before the warning cry had even faded, the eerie coughing spread like a pestilence.

Cultivators from the six Major Sects, attendants of the Ji Family, and even the cultivators gathered around Zhong Ming—all of them doubled over, wracked by violent coughs. Every one of them was pale-faced and gasping for breath.

Liu Yu, a Divine Heir candidate from the Five Viscera Divine Sect of Lao Fei, had only been there for a few moments, yet he had already afflicted nearly everyone inside the Star Secret Vault!

The seven new Foundation Establishment cultivators collapsed to their knees, one hand clamped desperately to their chests as they spewed mouthful after mouthful of black blood and shredded organs. Their coughs were ceaseless; it looked as though they would hack themselves to death right then and there.

This horrifying scene sent a tremor through everyone present. A chill shot up their spines, straight to the crowns of their heads. Ji Chengping, so arrogant and domineering only a moment ago, was now paralyzed with fear, slumped on the ground. His face was ashen, his lips trembling too violently to form words.

"How... When was I poisoned?" one of the Foundation Establishment cultivators gasped, his body convulsing with each cough, his eyes filled with despair. "I’m at Foundation Establishment... To get me without me even noticing... could he be a Fake Pill Cultivator? COUGH COUGH... But how is that possible? The Qinghe Commandery Mansion’s inspection... they couldn’t have been *that* careless, could they?"

At that moment, though terror and a bone-deep chill gripped everyone in the Star Secret Vault, none felt more bitter resentment than the seven who had just reached Foundation Establishment.