Chapter Nineteen: An Unexpected Gain

After confirming the level of the Xiyuan Star, Ye Han’s mood calmed slightly.
He now possessed Level Three Authority.
Anyone from Earth or Hanlan Star only needed to reach the First Tier in strength to dominate a region on Xiyuan Star.
“But it’s far too difficult!” Ye Han shook his head with a bitter smile.
Raising authority levels was, in essence, increasing the planetary combat limit.
Though First Tier seemed merely a beginning, First Tier under Level Three Authority compressed all nine tiers of Level Two Authority into one.
The challenge of breaking into Level Three Authority’s First Tier was akin to a chasm for Earth and Hanlan, who hadn’t even stepped through the door.
Yet as Ye Han scratched his head, pondering how to break the impasse, a peculiar creaking sound echoed.
“The wind?”
Ye Han turned suspiciously.
The stone chamber’s door had silently opened halfway, with no one in sight.
He rose, walked to the door, intending to close it.
“Hm?”
Just as his fingers touched the door, a bone-chilling cold suddenly surged from behind his head.
Ye Han’s body stiffened, his feet instinctively shifting sideways.
Plop…
A droplet of dark red blood fell to the ground.
Except for this drop of blood, which wasn’t his, the stone chamber was empty.
Ye Han surveyed his surroundings warily, his back pressed to the chamber wall.
“Who’s there?”
Instantly, Ye Han’s consciousness enveloped the chamber and the area beyond.
Still, no one.
He dared not relax, clutching ‘Spatial Jump’ in his hand, ready to escape at any moment.
The inscription on his chest detected no candidates.
“It must be a summoned entity from one of the candidates!” Ye Han mused, his gaze sharp as he searched the room.
Consciousness had its limits; if the opponent used a talent with concealment traits, even scouring inch by inch, Ye Han would find nothing.
In the Heavens Pool, talents took precedence over consciousness.
“You alone can’t kill me!” Ye Han snorted coldly.
“But what if luck’s on my side?”
A soft laughter rose in the chamber as a swirl of black mist emerged in the corner. A boy, bloodied and emaciated, crawled tightly along the floor.
Likely from prolonged blood loss, the youth’s skin clung to bone, his tattered clothes fused with dried blood, their original color indistinguishable, as ragged as a burlap sack.
“The boy from the Yue Palace of the Xuanyang Dynasty?”

Staring at the dying youth in the corner, Ye Han’s consciousness abruptly swept through the mountainside, and his heart sank: “The woman is gone, too!”
Earlier in the courtyard, Ye Han had sensed something odd about her.
She claimed the youth before him was her brother, earnestly begging Ye Han to spare him.
But when Ye Han’s conscious body scanned her, though her face was pale, her body was poised on the brink of eruption.
He noticed that, though she acted meek throughout, when she spoke of her brother, her eyes lacked any genuine worry.
As for acting, Ye Han would only rate her a six out of ten.
All form, no substance.
Yet he’d overlooked the boy.
Hearing Ye Han’s question, the youth seemed provoked, his face twisted: “Don’t mention ‘Xuanyang’ in front of me! They all deserve to die!”
“Is that so?”
A glint flashed in Ye Han’s eyes as he stared intently at the boy.
A single concealment talent wasn’t enough to harm him; what was the boy’s other talent?
And where had the girl gone?
Bang, bang, bang…
Thuds of flesh striking echoed outside the chamber.
Hiss—
Ye Han extended a thread of consciousness, shocked to find that the slaves in the outer corridor had lost all reason.
Their eyes bloodshot, they fought viciously.
Yet throughout, not a single moan escaped them.
It was as if their throats had been collectively severed, robbed of voice.
“This is bad! I’ve been hit!”
Ye Han’s vision blurred; when he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a desolate wasteland.
A world tinged dark red, devoid of any sign of life.
Ye Han tried to use Spatial Jump, but his conscious body couldn’t sense the outside world, his perception suppressed, unable to teleport any distance.
His consciousness now covered only a meter around him.
Within this range, Ye Han could still faintly sense the environment.
“The black mist wasn’t just concealment—it induces hallucination.”
Inside the illusion, Ye Han felt his body weakening.
Clenching his jaw, he scanned his surroundings warily, consciousness probing madly outward, but unable to break the one-meter limit.
“Unlucky, aren’t you!”
As Ye Han shifted outward, using what little perception he had, a clear voice rang.
It was the voice of the red-robed girl who had been bound.

“My talent ‘Dark Void Mist’ has three traits: concealment, hallucination, and weakness. Two trigger by chance, and you hit them both.”
The voice came from all directions; Ye Han’s blurred senses couldn’t locate her at all.
“So frank?”
Ye Han’s expression was odd. “Are you not afraid I might somehow survive this?”
Every binder’s talents were hidden cards, their traits fiercely guarded.
Take Gu Xiaoying—Han Xiaoxiao spent years contending with her, only discovering one trait from one of her talents.
As for the second talent, that remained pure speculation.
This girl beside Ye Han, he couldn’t say whether she was foolish or arrogant.
In a few words, she’d revealed half her leader’s secrets.
“With that mind, the binder must have spent a fortune granting her talents!”
Ye Han speculated inwardly, feeling a pang of sympathy for the unknown binder.
Ten million units of origin to bestow a talent, with just a one percent success rate.
“Survive this?”
The girl scoffed, “Impossible. All I need is to trap you here, and those slaves outside will tear you apart!”
“What’s happened to those slaves?” Ye Han’s face shifted, feigning alarm. “Did you already kill the steward and steal the contract?”
With Mist Shadow in hand and Chaos Dance, Ye Han might not guarantee a counterattack, but escape was assured.
If a meter’s all he had, so be it.
Mist Shadow paired with infinite spatial jumps could easily secure his getaway.
He was merely probing, hoping to coax more information from the girl.
“Contract?”
The girl snorted, her tone proud and disdainful. “My ‘Crown of Desire’ is a talent of enslavement, exempting low-tier contracts, and it can forcibly trigger beings to pursue their deepest desire at any cost.
Guess what these slaves long for most?
Freedom, power, or the death of their master?”
Despite her sneering, Ye Han was not annoyed; instead, he nodded in satisfaction.
Not bad—her secrets laid bare.
There were only ten people in the slave trade of the Dongli Dynasty.
This girl had been enslaved in the rear courtyard upon arrival by the steward.
So the two talents she mentioned must belong to one of the other nine.
Ye Han grinned; this was wholly unexpected gain.