“Clan Leader! Our Clan Leader, Zhang Qi Ling!”
Someone among the Zhang family shouted.
In an instant, the entire group rushed forward, encircling Qilin.
Zhang Hai Wang and Zhang Hai Xing, one on each side, hurriedly supported him, their expressions filled with concern.
“Clan Leader, are you hurt?”
Qilin hastily shook them off and leaped three feet into the air.
He flicked his hand, sending several strands of the Ghost Wife’s hair soaring toward the vines—
But it was useless.
Wang Cang Hai was hanging too high, completely wrapped in the serpent cypress’s tendrils.
There was no way Qilin could reach him like this.
“Wan Bao!” Qilin shouted. “Are you still alive?!”
But the human-shaped cocoon suspended in the air remained motionless, eerily silent.
Panic surged through Qilin's chest.
He spun around in place, stomping his foot anxiously—
Then, in the dim corner of the cavern, his eyes caught sight of a massive slab of granite, its surface embedded with a vein of black mica.
He immediately turned back to the Zhang family members and yelled,
“Who has a Black Gold Dagger?!”
Zhang Hai Xing quickly presented his own, holding it up with both hands.
Qilin gripped the dagger tightly.
Drawing on his inner energy, he forced another mouthful of fresh Qilin blood from his wounds, letting it spray across the blade.
The Black Gold Dagger immediately flashed with overlapping dark shadows, its edge gleaming with an oily, ominous light.
Zhang Hai Xing, watching from the side, inhaled sharply—
So it was true.
Only Qilin’s sacred blood could unleash the true power of the Zhang family’s legendary Black Gold Dagger.
Without hesitation, Qilin swung the dagger with all his strength, hacking off a fragment of black mica from the granite slab.
He then clutched the mica stone in his right hand, while keeping the dagger raised in his left.
“Stack up, now!” he commanded.
“Make a human ladder and lift me up as high as you can!”
The Zhang family members scrambled into formation, each one climbing onto another’s shoulders.
Qilin scaled to the very top—
Finally reaching Wang Cang Hai.
Qilin’s mind raced—
I have to succeed in one strike.
If I miss, or if I startle the serpent cypress, it might devour Wan Bao immediately—
Or worse, it might flee with him still trapped inside, leaving him to suffocate slowly.
That cannot happen.
Sweat beaded at Qilin’s forehead.
He crushed the black mica between his index and middle fingers, reducing it to fine powder, and in a swift motion—
Flung the dust straight into the air.
At the same time, his left hand whirled, and the Black Gold Dagger slashed cleanly through the serpent cypress’s vines.
A cloud of mica dust spread rapidly, forcing the countless tendrils to shrink back in retreat.
Only one thing remained—
The cocoon wrapped around Wang Cang Hai.
It fell.
Qilin leapt down after it, flinging away the dagger and catching the heavy mass in his arms—
He rolled across the ground, absorbing the impact before coming to a stop on his side.
Immediately, he tore into the cocoon—
Ripping apart layer after layer of vines, peeling them away like unwrapping a zongzi.
Inside—
“Wan Bao!” Qilin called.
But Wang Cang Hai’s face was ashen white, his eyes tightly shut.
He wasn’t breathing.
A sharp pang struck Qilin’s chest.
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