Dozens of cultivators currently lingered within the inn, their presence entirely motivated by the Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn.

However, Xu Changshou's overwhelming display of power-obliterating two twelfth-layer Qi Condensation cultivators in an instant-had firmly deterred the crowd. Had he not established such brutal dominance, these scavengers would have already swarmed him.

Naturally, sheer strength was not enough to extinguish their avarice for the Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn.

Thus, they clung to Xu Changshou's periphery like festering leeches.

Biding their time for a singular, fatal strike.

The moment Xu Changshou abruptly stepped into the main hall, every gaze snapped toward him.

Whoosh!

With a casual sweep of his hand, Xu Changshou tossed a horn spanning nearly three Chi onto the wooden table.

In an instant, bloodshot eyes flared with raw greed.

Countless predatory gazes locked onto the prize from the dimly lit corners.

Has Junior Brother Xu lost his mind? What is he plotting?

Ye Shanhu's heart pounded with terror.

Xu Changshou was fully aware that these cultivators coveted the Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn, yet he deliberately flaunted it in plain view. Was this not simply courting death?

"What is this brat scheming?"

"Do we strike?"

"Could this be a killing array?"

The cultivators concealed in the shadows shifted restlessly, their killing intent undulating.

"Ahem!"

Clearing his throat, Xu Changshou announced, "Fellow Daoists, this Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn serves no purpose for this poor Daoist. Since you all harbor such intense interest, I shall offer it for exchange. This fated chance belongs to the highest bidder."

The phrase "highest bidder" instantly laid bare Xu Changshou's cunning arithmetic to the crowd.

To the vast majority, the Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn held no practical value beyond exchanging it for Spirit Stones.

Xu Changshou fell squarely into this category.

However, to a select few, the Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn was a peerless treasure.

It was a prime catalyst for refining Pseudo-Artifacts, brimming with the volatile power of the thunder attribute.

Cultivators possessing thunder spiritual roots were exceedingly rare, but not extinct. Wherever a thunder-attribute cultivator walked, such a profound material would never lack a master.

Otherwise, this rabble would not have traversed thousands of Li from the Western Continent to this desolate wasteland.

Consider a venerable clan birthing a peerless genius with a thunder attribute. Before this Scion reached Foundation Establishment, they would absolutely require a tyrannical thunder-attribute Pseudo-Artifact to protect their Dao.

Under such circumstances, a clan would gladly bleed their coffers dry to secure a thunder-attribute Pseudo-Artifact or premium forging materials for their chosen heir.

Or perhaps a formidable Almighty possessed a descendant wielding the thunder attribute. Countless opportunists would scour the earth for thunder-attribute materials merely to curry favor and forge a karmic bond.

The myriad cultivators flocking to the Huosang Kingdom to hunt the Black Antelope Thunder Ox were driven by exactly these motives.

Ye Shanhu nodded inwardly, a faint smile gracing her lips.

She hadn't anticipated Xu Changshou possessing such shrewd intellect. By auctioning the Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn in the open, he not only diverted a deadly catastrophe but also reaped a hefty sum of Spirit Stones.

Naturally, this tactic was anchored entirely upon his sheer, intimidating martial prowess.

Had Xu Changshou been weak, they would have simply slaughtered him and plundered his corpse. Who would bother paying a dead man?

Given the current stalemate, parting with wealth to secure the item was the most prudent path to survival for everyone involved.

As for the inevitable bloody scramble of murder and robbery that would follow the sale? That was no longer Xu Changshou's karma to bear.

Let Fellow Daoists perish, not this poor Daoist. If they wish to court death, let them bleed.

"Fellow Daoist, name your price," a rasping voice echoed from the shadows.

"Twenty Spirit Stones."

Xu Changshou spoke with utter indifference.

The opening bid was shockingly low. A pristine Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn typically commanded between thirty and forty Spirit Stones.

"Straightforward! Twenty Spirit Stones it is. This old man claims it." The speaker possessed a grating, reedy voice that grated on the ears.

"I bid twenty-one Spirit Stones."

This counter-bid originated from a distinctly youthful voice.

Displeased, the reedy-voiced cultivator barked, "Fellow Daoist, do you intend to make an enemy of this poor Daoist?"

The youthful voice chuckled with mild disdain. "There is no enmity to be found. This Fellow Daoist stated it clearly: the highest bidder claims the prize. If you covet it, raise your bid. If your pouch is empty, hold your tongue."

"Twenty-two Spirit Stones," the reedy-voiced cultivator hissed furiously.

The youth taunted back, "Twenty-five Spirit Stones."

"You..."

The grating voice finally choked into silence.

"Twenty-eight Spirit Stones," the rasping voice interjected once more.

"Thirty." The youth's tone betrayed a frown.

"Thirty-five." The rasping voice remained languid, oozing with unshakeable financial foundation.

"Thirty-eight!" The youth ground the words out through clenched teeth.

"Forty Spirit Stones." The rasping voice maintained its absolute composure.

Following this declaration, a heavy, suffocating silence descended upon the hall.

The youthful cultivator dared not pursue the bid any further.

Xu Changshou nodded faintly. "Forty Spirit Stones. Are there any higher bids? If not, this fated item belongs to this Fellow Daoist."

He allowed the silence to stretch, but no further challenges arose.

Xu Changshou smiled. "Fellow Daoist, reveal yourself."

A heavy door groaned open, revealing five or six elderly cultivators, all radiating the oppressive spiritual pressure of the twelfth layer of Qi Condensation.

Stepping into the light, the leading elder tossed a Storage Bag to Xu Changshou, his rasping voice commanding, "Fellow Daoist, here are forty Spirit Stones. Inspect them."

Xu Changshou swept the Storage Bag with his Divine Sense. Exactly forty Spirit Stones rested within, shimmering with pure Spiritual Qi.

"The tally is flawless. This item is yours, Fellow Daoist."

Offering a polite smile, Xu Changshou cupped his fists in a superficial salute before smoothly retreating into his quarters.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the atmosphere in the hall grew murderously thick.

"Curses, it is the faction from the Lu Family Fort."

"To think the Lu Family Fort deployed such a heavy contingent."

"Rumor dictates the Lu Clan birthed a peerless talent bearing a mutated thunder-fire spiritual root. This horn is undoubtedly meant to pave his Dao."

"Do we strike?"

"Hold your killing intent. The Lu Family Fort is not a force easily chewed."

...

Having secured the Black Antelope Thunder Ox Horn, the formidable elders formed a tight phalanx around the rasping old man and hastily departed the inn.

In their wake, the remaining cultivators bled out into the darkness. Some dissolved into the vast night, while others silently trailed the Lu Clan elders like starving wolves.

The oppressive inn was entirely emptied, leaving only Xu Changshou and Ye Shanhu behind.

Only then did the tension bleed from their shoulders, allowing them to finally exhale.

A lethal, looming crisis had been effortlessly dismantled by Xu Changshou's cunning.

"Junior Brother Xu, your methods are truly profound," Ye Shanhu praised, a brilliant smile washing over her face.

"Senior Sister Ye, even my mortal coil trembled just now."

Xu Changshou wiped away a sheen of cold sweat. This cultivation world was infinitely more ruthless and predatory than he could have ever calculated.

In the dead of night.

Xu Changshou withdrew his Storage Bag to calculate his harvested karma.

The crown jewel was undoubtedly the Black Antelope Thunder Ox hide. Beyond that, the twin Pseudo-Artifacts represented a considerable fortune.

His stockpile of Spirit Stones had also swollen. Upon arriving at the Thunder Marsh, he possessed exactly three hundred and twenty-two Spirit Stones.

Now, his wealth had surged to three hundred and seventy-seven. Factoring in the forty Spirit Stones from the horn auction, the remaining fifteen had been pried from the corpses of the Hehuan Sect elders.

Fifty-five Spirit Stones in a single stroke-a sum that would demand half a year of agonizing grind to earn legitimately.

No wonder it is said that murder and arson pave the road to gold. The quickest path to supremacy in the cultivation world is paved with the corpses of the weak.

Having audited his resources, Xu Changshou systematically dismantled the Black Antelope Thunder Ox hide. This carcass dwarfed the Ferocious Bull King, yielding a staggering two hundred and forty prime cuts.

Two hundred and forty cuts translated to two hundred and forty Thunder Explosion Talismans. It was an arsenal more than sufficient to preserve his life.

At the first crack of dawn, Xu Changshou and Ye Shanhu departed Thunder Marsh Town.

"Pay homage to the Thunder God."

"May the Thunder God bestow his blessings."

"May the Thunder God shield us from calamity..."

A magnificent temple fair was erupting across Thunder Marsh Town, held to sanctify and gild the idol of a young master hailed as the 'Thunder God.'

Crowds paraded the gilded idol through the main thoroughfare as mortal commoners dropped to their knees on either side, kowtowing in fervent worship.

The golden idol depicted a youth crushing a Red-Scaled Horse beneath his boot, a treasured sword clutched in his right hand, his left fingers woven into a profound hand seal.

Myths proclaimed the Thunder God wielded supreme dominion over heavenly tribulation lightning. Within the Thunder Pool, he supposedly battled a Primordial Thunder Beast for three hundred grueling rounds, ultimately cleaving the monstrosity in twain with a single stroke, purging the lethal scourge from Thunder Marsh Town.

Centuries later, this very legend remained etched into the bedrock of Thunder Marsh Town.

The Thunder God Temple basked in endless waves of flourishing incense, its legacy enduring through the ruthless grind of the ages.