The official Realm Walkers filed in one after another, naturally dividing into two groups: one team took charge of treating the wounded, while the other inspected the scene, completed any necessary actions, and eliminated potential hazards. A female member from the Bǎi Huā Association knelt down to examine two poisoned Fire Masters, her tone shifting slightly. “Hundred-man Commander,” she said, “their vital signs are weak—they need to immediately take diluted Life Original Liquid, or they will face life-threatening risks.” Among the Orderly Faction, both Musician Skill and Wood Demon practitioners possess life-related abilities; however, at the Elevated Stage, neither profession has the capacity to revive the dead. Such a powerful ability is one that only high-level Realm Walkers can master. Thus, the “Life Original Liquid” of the Musician Skill profession remains an essential strategic resource for the official forces—it provides immediate and life-saving effects on critically ill patients. The Five Elements Alliance purchases large quantities of this liquid annually from the "Three Musician Families," making it extremely valuable. Fu Qingyang said firmly, “Begin treatment immediately.” The Wood Demon woman opened her tactical backpack and extracted two syringes, administering intravenous injections to the two poisoned Fire Masters. Even the severely wounded Da Ji Ba received this treatment; Li Dongze, however, was not treated as thoroughly—only receiving basic wound care, detoxification, and bandaging from a Wood Demon of the Bǎi Huā Association. The Qingteng and others also received medical attention. Fu Qingyang walked over to Guan Ya, removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, then asked with concern: “Are you all right?” Guan Ya adjusted the collar of her suit and shook her head in response. At this moment, a team of Captain-level Realm Walkers returned from clearing the battlefield and reported: “Hundred-man Commander, all enemy units have been eliminated—no survivors.” The captain remarked with admiration: “Four monster beasts each reached the level equivalent to a Level 3 Fire Master. Yet you managed to defeat them without any casualties—that is truly remarkable. However, I don’t understand one thing: two of these creatures had no visible wounds; their bodies were rigid and cold—so they must have died several hours ago. How did you manage that?” Upon hearing this, Ling Jun raised his eyebrows and immediately moved to the side of the body of “Hengxing Wujie,” kneeling down to observe it closely. Fu Qingyang paused, looked at Guan Ya, and asked: “What happened?” “The two were killed by Yuan Shi,” Guan Ya replied concisely. “Not two,” corrected the young man who had just received treatment, holding his sword—“three.” “You mean Yuan Shi Tian Zun? The new recruit who passed through the S-Rank Jin Shui Amusement Park? Where is he—I haven’t seen him yet!” the young woman, currently bandaging Da Ji Ba, looked up with excitement. Her direct Captain returned her enthusiasm with a stern gaze. Three… Fu Qingyang turned to Qingteng and Tang Guoqiang, seeing that neither of them contested this. The several injured Level 2 Realm Walkers seemed to recall something, their expressions now filled with both admiration and awe. “Indeed, it is the technique of the Night Wandering Deity,” Ling Jun commented with a breath: “A Level 2 Night Wandering Deity? That level of combat strength? How long has this young man been a Realm Walker?” He then added with regret: “I truly feel that assigning him to the Five Elements Alliance was a mistake.” Fu Qingyang glanced at him and then turned to Guan Ya, asking, “Where is Yuan Shi Tian Zun?” “He’s on the upper floor,” Guan Ya said as she looked upward. “Handling some matters.” … Compared to the chaos in the main hall, the rooms on the second floor were well preserved. In the third room from the outside entrance, Zhang Yuanqing found the item. It was a incense burner—crafted with a bronze three-legged base and featuring a carved blackwood frog seated upright, its head raised and mouth open widely. The frog incense burner sat quietly on the table. Zhang Yuanqing struggled to suppress an itchy sensation in his throat, rushed to the bedside, opened the window, pulled aside the curtain, and took several deep breaths of fresh air. As the mild dizziness eased, he returned to the table, picked up the frog incense burner, and a message appeared in his vision: [Name: Heavenly Frog Incense Burner] [Type: Artifact] [Function: Toxin] [Introduction: In an ancient era, a talented member of a Wuguo clan in Nanh Ling decided to develop a colorless, odorless toxin that could kill without being seen. After years of persistent research, he successfully created this incense burner—but found that the toxin within was colorless and odorless, its potency weak, and its effects slow to manifest—thus discarding it. Fifteen days later, all members of the entire clan perished.] [Note: Did you equip yourself with sufficient toxin resistance?] Zhang Yuanqing immediately stored the item in his inventory, thinking how well this was a setup. From the introduction and note, he understood its characteristics—firstly, the toxin affects both allies and enemies alike; even the owner of the artifact is susceptible to it. Hengxing Wujie can withstand it because of his high inherent toxin resistance as a Wuguo Master. Secondly, this Heavenly Frog Incense Burner grows stronger over time—the toxicity gradually increases and continuously volatilizes. If not properly preserved, it could endanger an entire area, even leading to the death of all members in a Wuguo clan. “Hmm?” Zhang Yuanqing reopened his inventory to review the information on the Heavenly Frog Incense Burner. “An ancient era… Nanh Ling… Wuguo Clan?” He sensed something different from the introduction—seeming to suggest that an accomplished, high-level Realm Walker from a distant age created this artifact. It may have then been passed down through time and eventually reached Hengxing Wujie, or perhaps it has always existed in reality—the details were unimportant; what mattered most was “ancient era.” What exactly did “ancient era” refer to? How many years ago? Did there already exist Realm Walkers during that period? Yet the attribute panel concept seems distinctly modern. Well—whether or not it is a modern concept remains uncertain. But if ancient people had such a concept, wouldn’t that seem rather incongruous… Zhang Yuanqing whispered to himself: “I should take time to investigate the origin of the Realm—should I have the authority to do so.” And if the ancient world lacked this concept, then the panel information familiar to them today would appear quite mysterious. Even whether there existed a concept of Realm Walkers in antiquity is now questionable. “The Realm itself holds many secrets,” Zhang Yuanqing mused. “I previously thought the existence of Morality Points was unreasonable—so much human intervention, unlike something that evolved naturally.” At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing noticed that his colleagues below were beginning to evacuate en masse. He immediately decided to leave and descended down the stairs. By the time he reached the first-floor living room, the official Realm Walkers had been dispersed. In the center of the room sat a young man in a white suit on a high-back chair, with broken furniture, bright red bloodstains, overturned sofas, and cracked walls behind him as his backdrop. His white suit stood out like snow—his facial features refined and his demeanor stern and composed, contrasting sharply with the surrounding scene. Zhang Yuanqing observed the man in white while he himself was being observed by the young man. When Zhang Yuanqing reached the final step, the young man nodded slightly: “Fu Qingyang.” “There must be someone more handsome than me,” Zhang Yuanqing thought as he bowed politely. “Hundred-man Commander good.” He had long admired this Hundred-man Commander—had heard many stories from Li Dongze—who hailed from a noble family and possessed exceptional talent, known for his calmness, intelligence, decisiveness, integrity—and the last trait—he attributed to Guan Ya—“a man who has aspirations but lacks confidence.” Now that he finally saw him, his first impression was of pride, nobility, and sharpness—a man whose very presence demanded careful thought before one dared to speak lightly. Interestingly, Zhang Yuanqing did not find this particularly off-putting—because Fu Qingyang’s dignity and poise were genuine, matching perfectly with his appearance. Fu Qingyang sat calmly in the high-back chair and said: “Please don’t be formal—I’ve been observing you for a long time and have wanted to meet you. But Guan Ya mentioned that you’re someone full of ambition yet lacks courage—so I decided to keep an eye on you.” “You treat ‘a man with ambitions but lacking confidence’ as a stereotype?” Zhang Yuanqing explained. “That’s just my misunderstanding—I believe Hundred-man Commander Fu should make his own judgment.” Fu Qingyang said gently: “She strongly recommended that I appoint you as a Captain, believing you are among the top talents of the Five Elements Alliance generation.” Zhang Yuanqing then added with a smile: “She has an excellent eye for talent.” Fu Qingyang watched him with deep, steady eyes. For some reason, Zhang Yuanqing instinctively avoided making direct eye contact—he found this intense gaze rather uncomfortable—like being scrutinized by a scout. “I don’t like the way scouts watch,” Zhang Yuanqing murmured to himself. As he was about to make eye contact, Fu Qingyang gently shifted his gaze toward Hengxing Wujie’s body and asked: “How do you view this battle?” His tone was calm—more than an inquiry, it felt like a test of his judgment. Considering how highly Fu Qingyang valued him, Zhang Yuanqing responded carefully: “The enemy anticipated our deployment and troop numbers—they were fully aware of us from the outset—the situation beneath is deeply complex.” Fu Qingyang stated directly: “Someone within the official ranks has been working with Hengxing Wujie to betray us.” “In other words,” Zhang Yuanqing nodded, “one of us has become a traitor.” “So I’ve asked everyone to evacuate—what remains now is between me and you,” Fu Qingyang said, looking at Hengxing Wujie’s body. Zhang Yuanqing understood the implication and walked over to the body, which was grotesquely disfigured—the dark, viscous substance in his eyes began to surge. The residual spirit within the body awakened, rising in wisps from the shell, coalescing into a semi-transparent silhouette above the body that stared at Zhang Yuanqing with fierce intensity and teeth bared. “As I absorb the spirits of the evil profession,” he said, “I might become somewhat frenzied.” He then extracted the Fumu Chopper and offered it to Fu Qingyang: “This artifact purifies mental contamination.” He had given the Fumu Chopper to Li Dongze due to confidence in his character; to Fu Qingyang, he gave it because of his wealth and standing—he believed that such a powerful item would not be highly coveted. Fu Qingyang accepted the chopper with a nod. Zhang Yuanqing remained silent, took a deep breath, and then drew the spirit into his mouth. … A sudden expansion in his brow—the unfamiliar sensation surged forcefully into his mind’s awareness. A cascade of fragmented images poured in—like scenes moving in a slideshow—each one recalling significant moments from Hengxing Wujie’s life. Hengxing Wujie had grown up in a modest family, studied diligently to transform his destiny. Upon entering society, he found that his academic achievements lacked influence—the more he worked diligently, the more tasks were assigned to him by his superiors—eventually becoming a typical “office worker.” He struggled against the entrenched network of relationships and those who relied on flattery rather than competence; after ten years of work, he still could not afford a home—yet marriage was expected to begin with one. His father, a hardworking farmer, had little financial means. His straightforward nature offered him few opportunities—while those who pursued alternative paths thrived. He felt increasingly uncertain about his future until, once, he leveraged his official position to accumulate substantial wealth—and then, gradually, began to fall into decline and embraced the life of an adventurer. Eventually, the scene changed—the room dimmed and turned dark. Zhang Yuanqing saw a quiet bedroom, where a spectral figure floated beside the bed. “Where is Black Wujie?” Zhang Yuanqing asked. “Trust is the foundation of cooperation—so far, it seems we both lack mutual trust.” “We have two strategies: first, wait for the list of fallen Realm Walkers to begin losing control…” “To express our sincerity,” he added, “I will share with you the official team’s deployment and actions.” … In this same dimly lit bedroom, Hengxing Wujie cut his wrist, allowing blood to flow into a black wooden bowl inscribed with incantations—within which, the blood twisted and formed a human face. “Sir,” said one of the attendants, “the people from Dark Night Rose have come to see you—they wish to meet.” “It’s too early yet,” Hengxing Wujie replied. “We’re still playing for time—we need to remain cautious… Have their leader arrived?” “I don’t know.” “Sir,” said the attendant, “taking control of the Fallen Cup is key.” “Could we try that?” “Dark Night Rose?” Zhang Yuanqing thought—“Black Wujie is stationed in Shunhai. Is it possible that they are preparing for a grand strategy? This is significant information indeed…” A golden glow appeared—the images faded, consciousness returned. Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes to find himself secured in the high-back chair. “Oh,” he murmured—“no pain at all—no physical violence. That means Hundred-man Commander Fu has completely outmaneuvered me.” His initial joy turned into a sense of quiet resignation. Upon seeing him awake, Fu Qingyang immediately asked: “What have you learned?” …