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... fei had an abundance of it. At least, it would not be a problem for him to break through to the primordial soul Stage. It would not matter even if he lost one or two bottles by then. It was just that he would need a little more time to cultivate in the early stages. Absorbing spiritual energy would achieve the same effect. He only needed to save enough liquefied elemental essence for his breakthrough.

Therefore, it was not unacceptable to take out a bottle to trade with the artifact Spir ...

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Magnificent mountains and rivers, the rising powerful ones. Some ancient martial art masters stood at the peak, becoming legendary. Some financial crocodiles rose up in the minuscule places, laughing arrogantly.

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war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”