Dante snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. Ms.Lauren and Westin both work harder than I do. You’re just lazy—and trying to justify it.”

  Nash went silent, glancing toward Lauren and Westin in the distance.

  Thinking of Lauren’s freakish cultivation speed, he couldn’t help but grimace. The girl barely had time to swallow a fasting pill before gulping down flower dew to keep herself going. And Westin—he had clawed his way up from the outer sect. No one worked harder than him.

  Yeah… compared to them, Nash had no room to talk.

  Lauren, meanwhile, crouched beside the pile of corpses, carefully scraping out a few of the Fishwife’s Eyeballs. She knew they’d be perfect for crafting Illusion-Breaking Talismans.

  She needed to start preparing more functional talismans anyway. Flower Wife’s treasure chest and her Master’s “scraps” wouldn’t last forever. If she could draw more herself, she could use them—or sell them for spirit stones.

  Her Master had helped her plenty when she was younger, but she couldn’t lean on him forever.

  Well… theoretically, she might never outlast him.

  Rumor had it that when her Master’s lifespan was nearing its end, he would distribute his lifetime’s collection of treasures among his disciples. But Drake was a Mahayana cultivator with centuries of life ahead of him—and he’d already outlived more disciples than anyone could count.

  At this rate, it was hard to tell who would be inheriting whose legacy.

  Once the female Mermaid’s body was disposed of, their attention turned to the male Mermaids piled nearby.

  “What are we supposed to do with these?” someone groaned. “They stink like hell.”

  “Just wait,” Dante said calmly. “Let them sit in the sun for a while. The smell will fade.”

  That sounded absurd. Ordinary fish only got worse under the sun. But sure enough, by noon, the stench had vanished, replaced by a faint, almost pleasant aroma.

  Everyone was soon busy processing the corpses.

  The trip had been incredibly fruitful—each person walked away with a large bag full of Mermaid scales.

  Then Dante took out a stack of storage bags and started collecting entire bodies.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared.

  “Wait—can those bodies be exchanged for spirit stones?” someone asked.

  Dante shook his head. “No. But fishermen can boil Mermaid oil and trade it for gold and silver. Mortal nobles love the stuff.”

  Nash blinked. “Dante… you really don’t waste anything, do you?”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Dante only smiled.

  ......

  Back in the village, the village chief was already waiting at the dock with the able-bodied men. When he saw the group returning, he rushed forward, eyes wet with relief.

  “Masters! You’re back! If you hadn’t returned by sunset, I was going to send men out to sea to search for you!”

  Dante chuckled lightly. “No need for that, old man. We’ve flattened Mermaid Island. You can fish in peace from now on.”

  The chief blinked. “Truly? You mean it?”

  “Of course.” Dante tossed him a storage bag. When it hit the ground, more than a dozen Mermaid corpses spilled out.

  The villagers gasped, then erupted into cheers.

  Then Dante tossed out several more bags—hundreds of them in total.

  “Master, please accept my respects!” the chief said, dropping to his knees.

  “Enough, get up.” Dante helped him to his feet. “Now, organize the men. Set up cauldrons, build fires, and start boiling the oil. We’re leaving soon.”

  “You’re leaving already? Why not stay a few days, Master? We’ll prepare a proper feast!”

  “No need.” Dante reached into his sleeve and handed the old man several sheets of shimmering parchment.

  “These are Thunder Sect manifestos. If demonic beasts trouble you again, write your request on one and burn it. We’ll receive it.”

  The old man clutched the papers as if they were sacred relics. “Thank you, Immortal Master!”

  The villagers all bowed deeply.

  As Dante and the others prepared to leave, the people began hauling the Mermaid bodies to a massive cauldron, stoking the fires high.

  Thick, iridescent oil began to bubble up—shimmering like liquid pearls. To the villagers, it was no different from rendering lard.

  But Lauren, still carrying the instincts of her former modern life, felt a little uneasy and kept her distance.

  From a high perch on the hillside, she gazed out over the water. “Beyond the South Sea—that’s probably the direction, right?” she asked, pointing toward the hazy horizon.

  Edmund poked his head out from her wrist. “No doubt about it. There’s a Boundary Force out there.”

  Lauren’s senses pricked—someone was coming. She gave Edmund a quick pat on the head, signaling him to retreat.

  It was Westin. When he spotted her, he hurried over.

  “Ms. Lauren, so you’re here.”

  Lauren smiled lightly. “Shouldn’t you be helping to boil the fish oil?”

  Westin shook his head. “No, I came to ask you about domains.”

  Lauren realized his mistake and laughed softly. “Actually, I should be asking you. That wasn’t a real ice domain—it was a formation disk simulating one.”

  “A formation disk?”

  “Mm. But don’t downplay yourself. You managed to shape the prototype of a real domain at Foundation Establishment. That’s an incredible gift.”

  Westin flushed crimson, scratching his neck. Then, a little too boldly, he asked, “Could you… show it to me?”

  Lauren hesitated. “…Half an incense stick of time takes four top-grade spirit stones.”

  Westin froze.

  After a pause, he fumbled out a storage bag. “Three hundred mid-grade stones, and ten thousand low-grade stones. Will that work?”

  Lauren waved her hand quickly. “No, no—you misunderstood. I don’t want your stones. I mean the formation plate itself runs on top-grade spirit stones. Four will last only half an incense stick, and I don’t have many to spare.”

  Realization dawned on him, and he stuffed the bag away. “Ah. Then we’ll just wait for another chance.”

  “Right.”Lauren tilted her head. “By the way, are you going back soon?”

  Westin shook his head. “No. Dante wants to explore the legendary land beyond the South Sea. He hopes to complete a few missing pages of the Thunder Sect’s Overseas Scriptures before forming his Nascent Soul.”

  Lauren’s eyes brightened. Perfect. Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted too?

  “Ms. Lauren, are you coming with us?”

  “Of course I am.”

  Dante, however, advised the group to rest for a few days in the village first. He had already sent a message to the Thunder Sect, asking them to bring back the child with the Light Spiritual Root.

  No one knew how long their journey beyond the South Sea would take. They couldn’t risk delaying the child’s cultivation—or worse, letting him fall prey to rival sects.

  Lauren used the downtime well. She spread her papers and brushes, carefully inscribing functional talismans.

  With the Fishwife’s Eyeball, she crafted Illusion-Breaking Talismans—no more than a dozen at first. If those ran out, she’d make more. She also drew Divine Travel Talismans, Armor-Breaking Talismans, and a few others.