The old woman's voice was gentle, yet her words cut sharper than a blade.
Of course, she wasn't speaking to the swaddled infant in her arms.
At this moment, the last two surviving members of the Jing family, grandmother and grandson, were blocked in a forest path by two vicious men, one in front and one behind.
Guarding the front stood a squat, thick-bodied elder, gripping a round-headed copper hammer. He was barely five feet tall, but his waist measured four feet around, his face twisted with malice. He looked like a vicious stone roller come to life.
At the rear loomed a tall, gaunt figure holding a thin iron spike. Over seven feet in height, lean as a reed, his cold expression made him look like a sinister bamboo pole.
The two had finally cornered the remnants of the Jing clan. No matter how sharp the old woman's words, they would not retreat easily.
The bamboo pole spoke first:
"Granny Jing, your family affairs have little to do with the two of us. A debt has its debtor, vengeance its culprit. If your clan ever rises again, you should seek out the true enemy for revenge."
"We're only blocking your way because we wish to take a look at your clan's Book of Fate."
"My brother and I have suffered damage to our inheritance. Without a method to refine a Life Pattern, our cultivation cannot advance, and the torment is unbearable. We ask that you show mercy, Granny, and let us see it."
His voice was cold and hard. Though his words sounded polite, they carried nothing but killing intent.
In his cradle, Jing Qian stirred at the sound of voices, forcing his sleepy eyes open to observe the scene in a daze.
He paid little mind to the two bandits.
What shocked him more was that his tiny hanging cradle was suspended by a shimmering strand of blue spider silk.
And his grandmother, in this life, was sitting cross-legged high above on the head of a giant azure spider, more than three meters tall!
The spider's body was massive, its appearance hideous. Its eight long legs, bristling with spiny hairs, were slender yet powerful.
Granny Qi did not bother to respond to the bamboo pole's demands, nor did she spare him a glance.
All her attention was fixed on Jing Qian, who had just opened his eyes.
"My little grandson is awake?"
"Did those two thieves disturb your sleep?"
"Do not be afraid, let your grandmother put on a good show for you!"
She stretched out her arms, lifted Jing Qian from the cradle, and cradled him close.
In that instant, a sharp iron spike thrust toward her back from behind, aimed at her vital heart!
In the blink of an eye, the bamboo pole had crossed dozens of meters, arriving right at her side.
His spike, infused with killing qi, turned pitch black, shrieking through the air as it stabbed forward.
But in the very next second, he felt his left leg go numb. His force faltered, and the assassination strike he had honed for decades skewed off course by nearly a foot!
His tall frame brushed past the old woman, his attack missing its mark.
Yet the spike did not strike empty air.
At the end of its arc, waiting in its path, was the stone roller.
The pitch-black spike pierced straight into the man's chest, punching through his back and spraying crimson blood!
Throughout the exchange, neither man spoke a word. To an outside observer, it seemed they were mortal enemies striking at each other's lives!
But looking closely, both their mouths were sewn tightly shut with fine threads of faint-blue spider silk!
Unable to speak, they could not scare the infant nearby.
Not only were their joints entangled by countless strands of delicate spider silk.
They had already fallen into an ambush, transformed into puppets of the spider demon!
Their bodies trembled violently, muscles taut, clearly struggling with all their might.
But the enchanted threads, subtle yet unbearably heavy, pinned them down without mercy, leaving no room to resist.
Then, under the control of the spider silk, their movements twisted into something grotesque.
The bamboo pole rammed his iron spike deeper into the stone roller's chest, then lifted him and slung him across his waist like a drum.
With his left hand, he seized the copper hammer from the stone roller's grip and smashed it down onto the man's face.
"Bang!"
The hammer came crashing down, blood spraying in all directions!
But the bamboo pole did not stop. He kept swinging, one blow after another, the hammer flying high again and again!
And as he swung, his tall, wiry frame twisted into a grotesque dance.
"Bang!"
"Bang! Bang!"
"Bang!"
The dance was bloody and savage, yet carried a strange rhythm.
In Granny Qi's arms, baby Jing Qian watched everything unfold.
An involuntary thought floated up in his mind:
"...An'sai Waist Drum?"
So it was that the bamboo pole turned his brother into a living drum, beating him with hammer and dance, splattering blood across the path as he cleared the way forward!
The bamboo pole, though a cultivator, was now a puppet under the spider's threads. Driven by its power, his speed rivaled a galloping horse like a grotesque monster, charging forward in a spray of blood.
Behind him, the spirit spider moved even faster, gliding through the forest as if walking on flat ground, carrying the old woman and her grandson without the slightest hindrance.
Before long, the unlucky stone roller met his end. After enduring forty-seven hammer blows from his brother, his life finally slipped away.
His skull had been smashed to pieces before death finally claimed him, a testament to his tenacity.
At the instant of his death, a streak of azure light shot straight into Jing Qian's Niwan Palace at the center of his brow.
No one else present noticed a thing.
Receiving that light, Jing Qian felt it immediately. The one-year-old child fell into sudden slumber.
When he next awoke, he was back in the narrow inner space.
And there, sure enough, stood the stone roller.
But unlike the first enemy, he did not immediately attack.
Jing Qian stood before his stele without moving; the stone roller too remained still.
Around the stele stretched a one-meter circle of safety.
Jing Qian observed him, then tested by stepping half a pace beyond.
In the next second, the stone roller rolled forward, hammer raised, and struck with incredible speed!
The short distance was covered in a blink. The iron hammer howled like the wind, only to smash against a transparent barrier.
Jing Qian had already withdrawn his half-step.
The barrier's existence kept him perfectly safe.
The full force of the blow was met and repelled by the stele, backed by its higher authority. The counterforce blasted the attacker away, leaving him injured.
Blood spurted from the stone roller's mouth; his organs were shaken. From his body drifted a wisp of thicker, heavier blue-white smoke.
In the blink of an eye, it floated into Jing Qian and merged with him.
With this smoke, his strength grew again, though only slightly. This time, there were no memories attached.
And before his eyes, words on the stele flickered and shifted:
[Life Essence: 0.11]
The increase in Life Essence stirred Jing Qian's thoughts. He could not help but step forward another half pace.
Sure enough, the stone roller staggered up once more, rolling toward him with hammer raised!