My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

Lin Wusheng, a peak Martial Saint, lived to be nearly a hundred years old.

The lifespan of a martial saint is limited to 120 years, and 100 years is considered a very old age.

Even if he's not dead yet, he probably won't have many breaths left.

But what if?

What if he's still alive and can still fight?

For a half-step Martial Saint to face a Martial Saint is tantamount to suicide.

He squinted and thought for a while.

"A five-hundred-year-old ginseng," he said slowly, "is of great use to me. Eating it might allow me to break through the threshold of becoming a Martial Saint. Even if I don't break through, it will at least solidify my foundation."

The men exchanged glances, and one whispered, "Second-in-command, shall we make our move tonight?"

The second-in-command shook his head.

He always prefers to take things easy. He talks a big game, but before he actually does anything, he always makes sure to find out the way first.

He wouldn't gamble with his life.

"Whether Lin Wusheng is still alive or not, we'll have to try to find out," he said.

His men looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

The second-in-command spat out the withered grass in his hand, turned around, and looked at the dense forest on the other side of the ridge with his back to the ginseng-gathering village.

It was pitch black deep in the forest, and nothing could be seen.

But he knew there was something inside.

There is something very fierce.

"Lure a demon over," he said, "the fiercer the better. If the ginseng-gathering village faces annihilation, Lin Wusheng will inevitably come out."

If he doesn't come out, he's dead; if he does, we'll retreat and let him fight the monster while we watch and scavenge.

His subordinates' expressions changed.

Someone stammered, "Second Master, summoning a demon? That thing... that thing is hard to control."

The second-in-command glanced at him, his eyes not fierce, but the subordinate immediately shut up.

"You guys go down first," the second-in-command waved his hand, "wait for me at the foot of the mountain. I'll be alone for a while."

The men exchanged glances, not daring to ask any more questions, and turned to walk down the mountain.

The footsteps faded into the distance, and the dense forest returned to silence.

The bird chirped a few times, then stopped.

The wind rustled through the treetops, making a soft, whispering sound, as if something was crawling beneath the leaves.

The second-in-command stood still and listened for a while.

Only after confirming that no one was around did he take something out of his pocket.

It was a black stone.

It's about the size of a palm, irregularly shaped, like it was broken off from somewhere.

The surface is very smooth and does not reflect light; when light shines on it, it seems to be absorbed into it.

There are fine lines on the stone, not carved on, but growing out from inside, like blood vessels.

The second-in-command held the stone and looked at it for a long time.

He found it by chance in the mountains half a year ago.

That day, he chased an injured deer into a cave. The deer disappeared, but he found the stone in a pile of rubble at the bottom of the cave.

When he picked it up, the stone was cold, but it quickly warmed up when it touched his palm.

Then a voice rang in his mind.

The sound was low and deep, as if it came from very deep underground.

It said, "What do you want?"

The second-in-command was so startled that he almost threw the stone away.

But he didn't throw it. He stared at the stone, his heart pounding.

He tried to think to himself: I want a knife that can cut through iron like mud.

Then the stone in his hand got hot, and he felt something emerge from it.

It climbed up his arm, onto his fingers, and then emerged from his fingertips.

He looked down and saw that the knife at his waist had changed.

The blade was still the same, but a faint light had appeared on the edge. He tried chopping at a nearby rock, and it sliced ​​through like tofu.

The second-in-command was stunned.

He knew he had struck gold.

He tried several times, and each time he made a wish, the stone granted it.

But every time a wish is granted, the stone demands that the person's flesh and blood be consumed.

The greater the wish, the more flesh and blood is required.

The second-in-command isn't stupid.

He knew this thing was an evil object, but if used wisely, it would be an excellent treasure.

As for human life, haha... In the vast mountains, human life is the least valuable thing.

Sometimes he can't help but think about it.

With it, he can get anything.

Power, status, even... becoming the top leader.

That old bastard Xiong Lie has been in the position of leader for far too long.

His talent was not much worse than Xiong Lie's, but Xiong Lie was a Martial Saint, and he couldn't beat him. Xiong Lie was suppressing him from above.

If I could break through to the Martial Saint level...

The second-in-command shook his head, suppressing that thought.

When it comes to his own strength, he would absolutely not obtain it through this evil object.

Who knows what pitfalls lie inside?

So if it's just used to obtain external things and solve some problems, as long as it's not used too often, there shouldn't be any problems.

He looked down at the black stone in his palm. The stone lay quietly, neither emitting light nor generating heat, yet he knew it was listening.

"I need you to do something for me," the second-in-command said in a low voice.

The stone did not react.

The second-in-command continued, "At the ginseng-gathering village, you need to lure the demons there for me. The fiercer the better, ideally they should be able to destroy the entire village."

The stone still didn't react.

The second-in-command waited a while, and was about to speak again, when a voice rang in his mind.

"Can."

The sound was low and deep, as if it came from very deep underground.

The second-in-command felt a chill run down his spine every time he heard that voice.

He refrained from moving.

"And the reward?" Stone asked.

The second-in-command took a deep breath: "Ten men. I'll give you ten men after it's done."

The stone remained silent for a while.

The silence didn't last long, but the second-in-command felt like it lasted a very long time.

The stone in his palm began to heat up, so hot it felt like it was burning through his skin.

He gritted his teeth and didn't let go.

"Okay," Stone said.

The second-in-command breathed a sigh of relief and loosened his grip.

The stone was no longer hot; it returned to its original temperature, cool and comfortable against his palm.

Stone spoke again: "Remember, ten people."

The second-in-command nodded: "I keep my word."

The stone remained silent.

The fine lines on its surface suddenly lit up, as if something was flowing inside.

Then it darkened again, looking no different from an ordinary stone.

The second-in-command put it back in his pocket, patted it, and made sure it was properly placed.

He turned around and looked down at the ginseng-gathering village below the mountain.

He tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing a slight smile.

That smile sounded cold in the mountains and forests.

What he couldn't see was that in the dark corner, a thin crack suddenly appeared on the surface of the stone, like a mouth.

The mouth didn't move, but a voice floated out from inside, very softly, so softly that only the stone itself could hear it.

It's not a laugh.

It was a sneer.

It's like laughing at someone who's arrogant, thinking they can outsmart everyone, but doesn't realize they're the one being outsmarted.