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The Martial Origin Stage Claw Wolf prostrated on the ground, trembling in fear as it was unable to budge. As for the figure of Helk that was seated on its back, he gazed at the jet-black figure before him in shock, “W-Who are you?”

Jet-black tendrils shot out from the jet-black figure that coiled around the Claw Wolf, constricting it to the ground. And no matter how much it struggled, it was unable to break free.

All the Claw Wolves in the place too were in the same state. And as for the bandits, they were too afraid to even move, realising that they were facing a terrifying being now.

“If you don’t wish to die, answer me.” The jet-black figure, Compass Carburettor said calmly, slowly tightening the hold over the Claw Wolf, causing it to whimper louder.

“I’ll answer, I’ll answer dammit. Just don’t injure it!” Helk shouted in a hurry, having only been able to capture this Claw Wolf after much difficulty. After all, had it summoned other Claw Wolves, capturing it wouldn’t have been possible.

“You have five seconds…” Compass Carburettor said curtly.

“I-It was the merchant group from the Wild Token Clan.” Helk said in a hurry, “I found this material when I raided one of their caravans.”

“Good for you,” Saying so, Compass Carburettor retracted the bindings, disappearing into the mist, “If I were to find that you’ve lied to me, you can forget about living.”

“D-Damn it!” After a minute of silence ensued, Helk cursed in frustration, “Why the heck did we meet with an expert?”

“Boss, it seems the material you fused your Martial Spirit with is pretty impressive.” One of the bandits slowly regained his bearings, saying in response.

“Yeah, I can understand it too.” Helk frowned, ‘But, I only found this one piece through luck.’

Compass Carburettor had landed a hundred metres away from them, hearing their conversation. Obviously, he planted a miniature Spydragon in Helk’s clothes, spying on their activities.

He didn’t plan on interfering with whatever they planned to do. Sometimes, people like Ranze would only shine during a conflict.

So, these bandits would serve as a good whetstone for his growth.

“Besides, he’s faring pretty well despite lacking any cultivation.” Compass Carburettor muttered, observing that Ranze had already run off into an Origin Beast habitat, leading them to the three bandits that were chasing him.

And using the chaos, he escaped, soon returning to his original route. Though exhausted, he was unscathed, displaying his brilliance.

“Obviously, that’s an old, experienced man in that child’s body.” Compass Carburettor muttered, “Of course, he should be capable of something like this at the very least.”

Slowly, Ranze headed deeper and deeper into the Misty Gorge Ruins as the bandits too chased after him. They were still after his spatial bag.

Saying that the spatial bag was just expensive was an understatement. Only the powerhouses at the Martial Providence Stage could afford one. And the seldom few exceptions were geniuses from powerful Clans.

So, they were that rare and valuable.

And based on their commission, once they killed Ranze, they could obtain the spatial bag he had. This was why the bandits chased after him relentlessly, despite their encounter with Compass Carburettor.

Moreover, by riding the Claw Wolves, they soon managed to catch up to Ranze, troubling him.

He wasn’t able to run faster than the Claw Wolves, not to mention the fact that he didn’t have cultivation. So, his stamina was subpar.

Soon after, he noticed that the bandits had closed in as Ranze cursed, “Dammit, how come they’re riding Origin Beasts now?”

“There’s only one thing left to do then.” He muttered, gazing at the map on his brick as he abruptly swerved to his right, entering a slopy area covered by gigantic trees as he soon spotted a tree with a thick trunk.

Taking out a crossbow, he loaded it and shot it towards the top, causing the arrow to pierce through a branch as he tugged the rope attached to it before beginning to climb it.

And once he reached the top, he placed the crossbow within his spatial pouch, watching the figures of the bandits arrive in his view, riding Claw Wolves.

“Our target’s here.” Helk grinned as he stared at the figure of Ranze on the tree branch, left with no other place to run towards, “Brat, you’re trapped now.”

“Why are you chasing after me?” Panting at the overexertion, Ranze gasped for air before shouting in anger.

“Curse the fact that you’re born with a Trash Martial Spirit.” Helk grinned as he motioned for the other bandits to target Ranze with their weapons.

“Is it a fault to have a Trash Martial Spirit?” Ranze shouted in anger.

“It’s not, but you’re related to someone beyond your status.” Helk said, “And that’s why you’ll have to die now.”

“Ha…haha…hahaha! I understand now.” Ranze began to laugh, “It was the Giant Whale Sect Master that wishes to get rid of me, right? If I didn’t even manage to guess it after so long, I’ll indeed be an idiot.”

“So, you’ve guessed it. You’re pretty smart for your age, but so what?” Helk waved his hand as a bandit strung an arrow to his bow and launched it.

Dang!

The sound of metal clanging into metal resounded as the arrow crashed into a brick that had expanded in size a little.

“A physical manifestation of the Martial Spirit…?” Helk shouted in shock, “Impossible! You’re not in the Martial Origin Stage.”

“Who knows?” Ranze snorted in anger as he took out a large packet from his pouch and poured the contents over, causing the wind to blow it over the entire place, with some of it falling on the bandits.

They hurriedly shielded themselves, unwilling to come into contact with it, fearing that it might be the same pepper powder.

“Haha, that’s not for you.” Ranze grinned, “Aren’t you curious as to why I’ve come up this tree and trapped myself?”

‘Smells like meat.’ Helk sniffed the scent emanating from the powder, frowning as he heard Ranze’s words.

“It was to lay down the bait for you to grab onto. And now, with the meat powder dispersing an aromatic fragrance, you’re the bait next.”

Roar!

The ground began to tremble as the trees swayed from the generated force. The faces of all the bandits paled as their Claw Wolves got restless.

As the sounds drew closer, from the mist exited a bull-shaped creature, slamming into a nearby bandit, splattering him.