Ancestor Bitter Bamboo—and the Barbarian Race as a whole—had never been a reasonable lot. But then again, everyone was the same: lenient with themselves and harsh with others.
It was perfectly fine for them to be unreasonable toward others, but the moment someone else was unreasonable toward them? Unacceptable.
Sure enough, the voice laughed with cold indifference: "Trespassing in another tribe's forbidden grounds—isn't that what your Barbarian Race does best? What, your people get to rampage through everyone else's territory, but I can't take a stroll through yours?"
"Oh?" Ancestor Bitter Bamboo stroked his chin thoughtfully, then his eyes suddenly lit up. "Say that again, and I think I know who you are. Human Race?"
Having figured that much out, Ancestor Bitter Bamboo burst into hearty laughter. "I never would have guessed! The Human Race has always been weak, timid as mice—and yet here you are, human, with the audacity to come stirring up trouble in our Barbarian holy land? Do you have three heads and six arms?"
The voice nodded. "You got it. Today, I'm here to stir up trouble."
As the words left those lips, the clouds overhead suddenly began churning as though seized by some tremendous force, crashing downward in a frenzy.
In the next instant, amid that surging tide of clouds, countless purple bolts of lightning—resembling coiling dragons and serpents—enveloped the void before them and poured down like a deluge of thunder.
The lightning was terrifying, and it seemed to possess some form of precise targeting, striking directly into the ranks of Barbarian warriors below.
The queue before the Divine Temple numbered in the thousands.
Those thousands of bare-armed Barbarian warriors, caught completely off guard, fell one after another the moment the lightning touched them, their bodies convulsing on the ground. The worst-hit were struck instantly into charred husks.
The sight left Ancestor Bitter Bamboo utterly gobsmacked. "Bastard—I'll kill you!"
He had never anticipated that this human expert would attack without warning—and not even target him directly, but instead go straight for the Barbarian warriors.
These expeditionary warriors, individually, were nowhere near the level of a Heavenly Domain powerhouse. And the one wielding the lightning was clearly a Heavenly Domain expert.
Cunning as a fox though Ancestor Bitter Bamboo was, even he had been caught completely unprepared.
"Go to hell!"
His skeletal frame transformed into a streak of pale cyan light that shot skyward. At the same time, his five fingers clutched downward, and a colossal claw of white bone materialized, engulfing half the sky above.
This enormous claw carried the power of spatial imprisonment. Anyone whose cultivation was even slightly weaker would never escape its grasp.
But the figure in the clouds flickered once—a brief shimmer—and dissolved into a streak of radiance, vanishing into thin air.
"Where do you think you're going!"
Ancestor Bitter Bamboo seethed with fury and refused to let go, accelerating his escape light as he tore through clouds and mist in pursuit.
The figure ahead, riding its own streak of light, moved at astonishing speed and clearly had no intention of engaging Ancestor Bitter Bamboo in direct combat.
Behind Ancestor Bitter Bamboo, the Sacred Spirit gave chase as well—one man, one beast, both hurtling forward in frantic pursuit.
The bizarre scene left the area before the Divine Temple in complete disarray. That single attack had killed or injured more than half of the warriors present. Those who survived lay on the ground, wailing in agony.
Ancestor Bitter Bamboo's eyes blazed with murderous intent as he followed the fugitive's trail at breakneck speed. But inwardly, he was secretly alarmed. "They always say the Human Race is weak, but this one's strength is nothing to scoff at. Even if he can't match me, he can't be far off—and judging by his escape speed, he's clearly not inferior in the slightest."
Ancestor Bitter Bamboo had assumed it would take only moments to catch up. He would seize this wretch, torture him half to death, then drag him to human territory and crush their morale once and for all.
But no matter how beautifully he planned it, the execution proved far more difficult than expected.
The chase stretched on and on, one streak of light after another streaking across the sky.
One hour, two hours…
One day, two days, three days…
Before he knew it, nearly a month had passed. Every single time, Ancestor Bitter Bamboo was certain he was on the verge of catching the fellow—yet every time, he fell just short by a hair's breadth.
In the beginning, Ancestor Bitter Bamboo had considered giving up, but a burning fury in his heart kept him pressing on. Eventually, that stubborn persistence had become its own form of torture.
Ancestor Bitter Bamboo had originally come out of seclusion to lead the Barbarian Race in a grand campaign. The armies of all four great Barbarian tribes had already gathered in the northwestern reaches of human territory, waiting for their Ancestor to take command.
Yet just before his departure, this unexpected complication had arisen.
By the third day of the chase, Ancestor Bitter Bamboo had begun to suspect that this human expert was deliberately stalling him.
Knowing it, however, did not help. He simply could not bring himself to disengage.
Because every time he considered abandoning the pursuit, that figure would materialize like a phantom right before his eyes—and threatening to destroy the Barbarian Divine Temple, leaving the entire Barbarian Race as faithless wandering spirits.
The Divine Temple was the Barbarian Race's spiritual anchor, their totem, their very faith.
If the temple were destroyed, it would be nothing short of a catastrophe for the Barbarians—the annihilation of everything they believed in.
Under those circumstances, even though Ancestor Bitter Bamboo was burning with impatience, his heart already racing toward the human territories, he had no choice but to stay and give chase.