I run a casino in the immortal realm.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye.

The aftershocks of the first "bloody battle" were still reverberating within the Qingyun Sect's camp.

The entire camp was filled with a strong, pungent smell of herbs and a lingering burnt smell.

In the wounded soldiers' camp at the rear of the camp, more than 300 "seriously wounded" soldiers lay on simple wooden beds, their groans of pain echoing throughout the camp, sending chills down one's spine.

These disciples went to great lengths to make the performance as realistic as possible.

They deliberately held back when sparring with each other, inflicting minor injuries on their bodies. Combined with the bruises they forced out and special medicinal powder, they all looked pale and miserable, as if they might die at any moment.

Outside the weapon-refining hall's tent, dozens of disciples, shirtless and sweating profusely, were clanging and hammering away at a pile of broken copper and iron. These were all low-level magical artifacts that had been deliberately detonated or broken on the battlefield, piled up like a mountain.

The disciples of the Array Hall worked day and night, setting up layer upon layer of thick defensive arrays around the camp, adopting a defensive posture of holding out to the death and never stepping out of the camp gate.

Fifth Elder Su Chenyuan issued a direct order for full alert: no matter how the demonic cultivators on the other side insulted and provoked them, even if they pointed at each other's noses and cursed their ancestors, the Qingyun Sect was absolutely forbidden from going out to fight.

On this day, Zeng Ming could no longer restrain himself.

"Bang!"

The curtain of the commander's tent was violently torn apart by a gust of fierce wind.

Zeng Ming, accompanied by two Foundation Establishment stage disciples, stormed in with livid faces.

"Su Chenyuan! It's been half a month! Is your Qingyun Sect planning to hatch eggs in this Blood Soul Valley?"

As soon as Zeng Ming entered, he pointed at Su Chenyuan's nose and began to curse: "The Grand Elder ordered you to continue harassing the Heavenly Demon Sect's defenses and tie down the Demon Sect's forces! What have you done? You've all cowered in the shadows, not even sending out a scout. Are you trying to ignore the Xuan Tian Sect's decree?!"

Su Chenyuan sat upright on the futon in the main seat, without even lifting his eyelids.

He slowly pulled a thick account book from his sleeve and slammed it heavily on the table in front of him.

"Captain Zeng, you've come at the right time. I was just about to send someone to the mines in the rear to look for you."

Su Chenyuan's face was cold, and his tone was filled with undisguised anger: "Fight a war? What do you expect me to fight with?"

In the battle half a month ago, our sect's soldiers fought valiantly, suffering 58 casualties. Even Li Jianfeng, Wang Changsheng, and 25 other core elites from various branches were captured alive by the demonic cultivators, and their whereabouts and fate remain unknown! More than 300 others are still seriously wounded, clinging to life in the wounded soldiers' camp.

That would be one thing; people always die in war. But our sect's disciples, in order to withstand the Blood Fiend Camp's frenzied attack, self-destructed three hundred third-tier magic artifacts and twelve hundred second-tier magic artifacts, expending a full twenty thousand high-level explosive talismans!"

"Right now, even the most basic healing and rejuvenating pills and qi-replenishing pills are all gone from the camp. The magical artifacts in the hands of the disciples have all become scrap metal! Without weapons, talismans, or pills, do you expect them to bite demonic cultivators with their teeth?"

"Since Captain Zeng has come to urge us to fight, he must have brought the military supplies issued by the Xuantian Sect, right?"

Zeng Ming was stunned by Su Chenyuan's barrage of questions.

He laughed in anger, pointed at Su Chenyuan's nose and cursed, "Su Chenyuan, how dare you ask the Xuantian Sect for resources?"

"Your Qingyun Sect, as the largest affiliated sect in the Southern Wilderness Region, has countless businesses under your command. Don't you even have this much foundation? Stop complaining to me about being poor!"

"Foundation? Seventy percent of the Qingyun Sect's annual revenue is handed over to the Xuantian Sect on time. Where does this foundation come from?"

Su Chenyuan remained unyielding, his voice booming like a bell echoing through the tent: "If you want the horse to run, you have to feed it! Without supplies, is the Qingyun Sect going to feed its disciples with their lives? If you don't believe me, you can go to the camp and see for yourself!"

Zeng Ming gritted his teeth and snorted coldly, "Fine! I'd like to see if you're lying about military intelligence!"

After saying that, Zeng Ming turned and left, leading his men straight to the wounded soldiers' camp and the supply depot.

After an incense stick had burned, Zeng Ming walked out of the wounded soldiers' camp with a grim expression.

He had just personally used his divine sense to investigate, and those disciples lying on the bed were indeed depleted of qi and blood and covered in wounds, which did not seem to be an act.

In the supply depot, besides the mountains of broken magical artifacts, not a single intact pill could be found.

The situation turned out to be completely true.

Zeng Ming stood in the wind, his expression shifting between light and shadow.

Although he wanted to use the Qingyun Sect as cannon fodder to weaken their strength, he really couldn't force them to fight if they refused to participate on the grounds that they had no weapons or pills.

If he were to push too far and cause a mutiny among the five thousand elite troops, or if the defenses were to collapse and allow the Demonic Sect to advance unimpeded, Elder Qin Cang would definitely skin him alive.

Left with no other choice, Zeng Ming had to grit his teeth, take out his Thousand Mile Transmission Talisman, and send a secret message to Qin Cang at the Xuan Tian Sect headquarters requesting resources.

Inside the main hall of the Xuantian Sect, hundreds of thousands of miles away.

Qin Cang looked at the secret letter Zeng Ming sent back, a cold smile curling at the corner of his lips. "Xu Tianyang, Xu Tianyang, it seems that the foundation of your Qingyun Sect is really about to be drained dry."

So many magical artifacts destroyed in the first battle! Let's see how long you can last!

In Qin Cang's view, since the Qingyun Sect was truly "bleeding," it was only right to give them a little reward.

As long as we can keep the elites of the Qingyun Sect firmly in the Blood Soul Valley meat grinder, what's a little spirit stone? It's just a matter of asking the Qingyun Sect for more taxes this year; the cost will still come from the sect itself.

Qin Cang then approved Zeng Ming's application with a stroke of his pen and allocated a large quantity of healing pills, talismans, and brand-new magical artifacts from the Xuan Tian Sect's treasury, sending them to the Blood Soul Valley front line overnight via a large teleportation array.

When Zeng Ming, with a dark face, smashed boxes of supplies radiating rich spiritual energy onto the open ground of the Qingyun Sect's camp, Su Chenyuan outwardly thanked him with feigned fear and trepidation, but inwardly he was sneering repeatedly.

Those self-righteous fools from the Xuantian Sect are using their own resources to support the Qingyun Sect, thinking they're getting a huge advantage.

With these supplies, the "wounded" members of the Qingyun Sect quickly recovered.

Meanwhile, in the independent fortress at the forefront of the camp, Zheng Yifei had completely isolated himself from external interference and began a long period of secluded cultivation.

Inside the fortress, Zheng Yifei had set up a small spirit-gathering array and soundproofing array using four high-level array flags. Outside, the Blood Soul River churned with poisonous mist and demonic cultivators shouted curses, but inside, spiritual energy swirled, making it feel like a fairyland.

Zheng Yifei sat cross-legged on a futon, with three bulging storage bags in front of him. These bags contained high-grade and top-grade pills that Zhao Ling had refined for him, as well as a large amount of spirit stones.

These resources, if given to an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator, would be enough for them to cultivate steadily for several years.

However, Zheng Yifei possesses five spiritual roots, requiring several times the resources of an ordinary cultivator. These pills and spirit stones are merely his cultivation resources for one year.

He planned to use the two years of war to raise his cultivation to the peak of Foundation Establishment, and then, upon returning to the Qingyun Sect, begin preparations to break through to the Golden Core stage.

"call--"

Zheng Yifei took a deep breath, and the Five Elements Creation Technique circulated wildly within his body. He grabbed a top-grade pill and stuffed it into his mouth.

The pill melted instantly upon entering his mouth, transforming into powerful medicinal energy that surged through his meridians like a wild horse.

The violent spiritual energy floating in the air of Blood Soul Valley, after being filtered out of impurities by the Spirit Gathering Array, transformed into pure Five Elements spiritual power, which continuously flowed into his body through his pores.

Zheng Yifei endured the tearing sensation of his meridians being forcibly widened, guiding the spiritual energy into his dantian.

Deep within his dantian, the liquid spiritual energy, which was originally like a lake, began to become increasingly viscous, showing a faint tendency to solidify.

This is the necessary path to the Golden Core stage—the crystallization of spiritual energy.