When Han Li found a thickly foliaged tree on the outskirts of the woods and leapt up into it to recover his spiritual energy, the entire restricted area was entering the first killing spree of the Blood Color Trial.
All manner of formidable figures began baring their fangs, launching a purge of the weaker cultivators nearby. The closer one got to the center zone, the more frequent and brutal the slaughter became.
Of course, when two "experts" of comparable strength occasionally bumped into each other, they would tacitly pretend not to notice and pass one another by — now was not the time for them to fight to the death.
It was worth noting that the disciples from the various sects inside the restricted area could generally be divided into three categories.
The first type were those whose strength was extremely weak, with cultivation techniques at only the eleventh or even tenth layer.
Their reasons for entering the restricted area varied — some had been forced to come due to unavoidable circumstances, while others harbored hopes of slipping through the cracks and profiting amid the chaos. Regardless of their motives, they occupied the very bottom of the Blood Color Trial's hierarchy, reduced to playing the role of prey for others to slaughter.
Often, by the time the first day in the restricted area had passed, aside from the few most cunning individuals or those with special means of self-preservation, this category of the pathetically weak had been nearly wiped out by others.
Of course, someone like Han Li, who could rely on a miraculous treasure to go head-to-head with the fiercest of fighters, was a notable exception.
The second type were people like the bearded man — cultivators with decent magical power but who were well aware that their overall strength was far inferior to the true powerhouses, and who knew they had no hope of obtaining spirit herbs. Rather than risk their lives fighting the restricted area's top experts for spiritual medicines, they turned their attention toward the first category and their own kind, seizing the opportunity to kill and rob, quietly growing rich.
These people were quite active during the first two days of the Blood Color Trial, but starting from the third day, the survivors among them would automatically vanish into the depths of the restricted area, no longer showing themselves.
They understood all too well that the last three days were reserved for the frantic duels of the "experts." Should they run into such fighters during that time, those of middling strength would have no chance of survival — it would be a dead end, without question.
Of course, there were always some who were either arrogant or had an inaccurate understanding of their own abilities, who would charge headlong into the maelstrom of competition for spirit herbs, ending up with not even their bones intact.
But the majority were quick to read the situation and fast to withdraw. In the end, they often turned out to be the category with the highest survival rate in the Blood Color Trial. Meanwhile, those of great power frequently met gruesome deaths before them — a bitter irony if ever there was one.
The third and final category was the smallest of all.
They stood at the very apex of the pyramid — the most elite disciples each sect had sent into the restricted area, the ones in whom the upper echelons of their sects had truly placed their hopes. As for the rest of their fellow sect members, they were little more than cannon fodder meant to draw attention from rival sects!
These elites possessed profound magical power and were equipped with top-grade magical artifacts of astonishing might! They had but one objective: to kill disciples from other sects and seize as many spirit herbs as possible!
And it was by their tacit agreement that this first large-scale killing spree had been launched in unison — to clear out the small fry who might try to profit from the confusion, lest they become an impediment or cause unforeseen complications.
Moreover, they were neither anxious nor panicked by the fact that someone had already entered the center zone ahead of them. After all, getting in might be easy, but getting back out with spirit herbs in hand — now that was something else entirely.
The killing continued unabated, but because Han Li was still some distance from the center zone, the waves of violence had not yet reached him as he worked to restore his spiritual power.
The weaker cultivators, however, were nowhere near as fortunate as Han Li. Many had been dragged into the carnage and were desperately fighting to break free and save their lives.
One such person was Xiao Er of the Knife Transformation Dock.
At this moment, Xiao Er's face was deathly pale, his eyes filled with terror as he stared at the man opposite him — a barefoot giant of a man with a massive silver greatsword strapped to his back.
It was this very man who, right before Xiao Er's eyes, had cut down two other Knife Transformation Dock fellow disciples who had grouped together. Under the barefoot man's silver greatsword, no top-grade magical artifact or defensive barrier seemed to hold any merit whatsoever. They were shattered one after another like sheets of paper, until in the end, even the people themselves were cleaved in two.
And yet, it was precisely because the other fellow disciples had provided a distraction that Xiao Er, seeing the situation turn dire, had managed to slip away and flee in a panic.
Unfortunately, the giant seemed to have no intention of letting him go. He had pursued Xiao Er relentlessly for several hours, and now finally cornered him here. This left Xiao Er utterly and completely despairing.
"If you kill yourself, I'll leave your corpse intact," the giant said coldly, his face devoid of any expression.
"You… go to hell!"