Return of the Immortal Emperor Daddy

Mr. Bick was the most senior elder among the Blood Refiners here. He was over three hundred years old. Although his blood had never successfully evolved, it was infused with medicine and beast blood, allowing him to live to four hundred. However, since his Art of Blood Refinement was incomplete, he would continue to age despite his longevity. By the time he died, only bones would remain. Furthermore, each night brought him unbearable pain.

Mr. Bick was harboring a fire in his heart with nowhere to vent it. "Take that young man away from here!" he called out to Bo Gu and Meng Tian. "The books in this place are not for just anyone to read."

"No, Mr. Bick, let him read," Bo Gu replied. In the past, he had always heeded the elder, but now he refused.

"That’s right, let him read," Meng Tian added with firm determination.

No amount of seniority mattered now. This concerned the birth of the true Art of Blood Refinement. Who would dare to obstruct it? Whoever did would be an eternal sinner in the history of the Blood Refiners.

"What is the meaning of this?" Seeing that Meng Tian and Bo Gu, who had always been so obedient, were now contradicting him, Mr. Bick was honestly a bit stunned.

"You... what on earth are you doing?" he demanded.

"My conscience is clear," Bo Gu said, unmoved. "I am doing this for the birth of the great Art of Blood Refinement."

"Exactly. For the birth of the great Art of Blood Refinement," Meng Tian declared, his chest swelling with surging passion.

Why did Blood Refiners pour their entire lives into this? Wasn’t it for the true Art of Blood Refinement?

"The Art of Blood Refinement? You believe this young man... Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!" Mr. Bick grew furious, pointing a trembling finger at Bo Gu and Meng Tian.

Bo Gu and Meng Tian stood their ground, refusing to back down.

"Fine, fine, fine..." Enraged, Mr. Bick strode away, shouting, "It’s either him or me! What a joke, what a joke! None of us old-timers could create the Art of Blood Refinement, yet you believe in a young man? HAHAHA..."

He left with a trail of mocking laughter.

"Bo Gu, Meng Tian, are you out of your minds?"

"Hurry and go after Mr. Bick! Apologize to him!"

The other elderly Blood Refiners who had been reading came over one by one, all urging Bo Gu and Meng Tian to chase after the man. They believed that Mr. Bick was their greatest hope. As the most senior among them, he was also the one most likely to finally create the true Art of Blood Refinement.

Bo Gu and Meng Tian exchanged a look, then shook their heads in refusal. If they brought Mr. Bick back, he would surely demand again that Wu Tian be forbidden from reading the books. In their view, while Mr. Bick was indeed the most senior and the most likely among them to succeed, "most likely" did not guarantee success.

Previously, there had been an even more senior Blood Refiner who still ended up dying of old age. He had only lived to be five hundred and thirty-five. For the sake of the true and great Art of Blood Refinement, Bo Gu and Meng Tian decided not to give chase.

"You..."

"Are you two sick or something today?"

After berating Bo Gu and Meng Tian, the other Blood Refiners went to pursue Mr. Bick themselves.

Bo Gu and Meng Tian stood their ground, indifferent to the others’ attitudes. This was their final gamble. They looked again at Wu Tian, who was still reading. He simply flipped through a book with great speed, as if he could finish it just like that.

Bo Gu and Meng Tian wore complicated expressions, a mix of conflict, struggle, and unease. They were terrified that Wu Tian was just toying with them. But they had already made their choice, and all they could do now was stand by it. Deep down, however, they were afraid. If Wu Tian was only joking, Bo Gu and Meng Tian knew they would be finished.

While Wu Tian was reading in the Blood Refiner Shrine, Dao Feng and the others were cultivating. Zhou Butong was practicing his fist techniques, walking as he trained, until he gradually found himself outside the Royal Palace.

This Five Directions Fist is truly the king of all fist techniques. The more I practice, the more I realize how infinitely profound it is. The techniques I used to practice seem like complete garbage now.

Zhou Butong’s heart pounded with excitement. With the Five Directions Fist, the Heavenly King Realm was no longer enough to satisfy him.

The Green Emperor Fist seems best suited for morning cultivation, while the Red Emperor Fist...

As he pondered how to cultivate more efficiently, he heard footsteps approaching.

Zhou Butong turned his head. "Why is it you guys?"

It was the Elders and Disciples of the Divine Fist Sect. They hadn’t dared to enter the Royal Palace to find Zhou Butong. The Divine Fist Sect could not go a single day without its leader, so they could only wait anxiously outside for an opportunity. Now that Zhou Butong had finally emerged alone, they couldn’t help but approach him.

"Sect Leader, we’ve missed you so much!"

"Sect Leader, did that Wu Tian torture you?"

"Why would he torture me?" The question from his disciples and elders took Zhou Butong by surprise. Realizing their concern, he sighed and said, "Don’t misunderstand Sect Leader Wu Tian. He is learned and talented. Following him was the most important decision of my life. As for the position of Sect Leader of the Divine Fist Sect, you should find someone else."

This old trickster, Zhou Butong, no longer cared about being the Sect Leader of the Divine Fist Sect.

"What? If you won’t be Sect Leader, who will?"

"Sect Leader, how can you say such things? You must have been deceived by Wu Tian!"

The elders and disciples all tried to persuade him, but one Elder couldn’t help but notice Zhou Butong’s fist. Although it was still, the aura it contained made the Elder’s heart tremble with fear from just a single glance.

"Sect Leader, your... your fist... How can it contain such power?"

"This?" Zhou Butong raised his clenched fist. He had not yet reached Wu Tian’s level of compressing his power, simplifying complexity, and concealing his might. His fist’s power was on full display. "This is a Martial Arts Technique that Sect Leader Wu Tian taught me."

"What? He taught you? How could a young man like him possess such a martial art..."

The Elders were all in disbelief. As high-ranking members of the Divine Fist Sect, they could instantly tell that the fist technique Zhou Butong was practicing was invincible.

"What’s the matter, Elders?"

"Yes, what’s going on?" the disciples asked, perplexed by the Elders’ shocked expressions.

"If I’m not mistaken, this fist technique is Unranked," one Elder said gravely.

"Martial Arts Techniques are divided into Heavenly, Earthly, Xuan, and Yellow Levels. What does ’Unranked’ mean?" the disciples asked, confused.

"An Unranked Martial Arts Technique is a special kind, one with unlimited potential for improvement," another Elder explained solemnly. "A Yellow Level Martial Arts Technique, no matter how powerful, is still confined to its rank. But an Unranked technique is different. It’s rumored that an Unranked Martial Arts Technique was once auctioned for the price of... an entire Seven-Star Kingdom."

"What?" Upon hearing this, the disciples were all startled, their faces draining of color.

The Elders’ voices also carried a tone of shock as they stared at Zhou Butong. "Sect Leader, he... he really taught you this technique? Without any conditions?"