“Master, you’re Blood Clan, right? Don’t you know the way?” Chiyan asked, staring blankly at Filo.
Filo’s lips twitched awkwardly. She was a fake, spawned in this forest. Blood Clan territory? Hell, she didn’t even know spots outside the forest.
But she couldn’t just admit that. In their eyes, she’s the True Ancestor, some ancient monster who’s lived forever.
Filo coughed hard, face straight, bullshitting, “I’ve been in this forest for who-knows-how-long, aiming to retire. So, I chose to forget a lot.”
Nailed it. Filo mentally high-fived her own wit.
Everyone nodded, like, makes sense. Bingpo clasped her hands, eyes sparkling with awe.
That’s Master! Forgetting memories to retire? Total boss move. Dragon Kings? Can’t compare—one’s heaven, one’s dirt.
“Master, no worries if you forgot. We’ve never been to Blood Clan territory, but I know a few ways to get there,” Bingpo said, raising three fingers.
“Blood Clan territory’s close to Dragon World. Master could hit Dragon World first, then use it as a springboard.
Or, use a world-class space treasure. Humans have ‘em—strong enough user, and you can hop any world.
Lastly, as True Ancestor, you could use Racial Sense to call Blood Clan in the human world to guide us.”
Bingpo dropped three solutions like a champ. First one? Pain in the ass—Dragon World detour to Blood Clan territory.
Like being in Beijing, wanting Jiangsu, but routing through Henan.
Damn, too much hassle.
Third option sounded easiest, but… Racial Sense? What’s that?
Filo sneaked open her private stat panel, spotting it in her massive skill list.
[Racial Sense]—Rare racial skill for sending faint signals to all kin.
Can it target a specific range? Nope.
Can it ping just a few? Nope.
Can it… Nope.
“…”
A vein popped on Filo’s forehead. She closed the panel. That option’s a bust.
Using it would scream her presence to all Blood Clan. Too cocky. Given their True Ancestor worship, she’d bet hordes would flood human lands.
That’d nuke the human world. Filo’s human goodwill was already low from pre- and post-reincarnation.
So, option two? Human world’s world-class treasure. With that setting, late-game’s gotta have god-tier brawls—maybe star-destroyer cannons or some wild shit.
Filo shook off the crazy thought. Priority: Blood Clan territory.
“You know where that treasure is? Don’t tell me you just heard about it,” Filo asked, eyeing Bingpo and Chiyan.
“No way! I’m not Chiyan—I’m reliable! It’s a human clan treasure, but public-use. Sits in the main city’s center,” Bingpo said, cheeks puffed, pointing at Filo.
Public clan treasure?
That’s a thing?
If Bingpo says so, it’s legit. No classic adventure grind—run, fight, quest, loot. Easy peasy.
“Nice work, huge help!” Filo grinned, clapping Bingpo’s shoulder. Bingpo tilted her head, smirking at Chiyan like, I’m miles ahead, loser.
Chiyan: “…”
Chiyan’s salty fish eyes glared, then—brain blast!—pointed at the panda in Filo’s arms, like, It’s got you beat.
Bingpo: “…”
The panda blinked, clueless, suddenly feeling two waves of hostility.
Shivering, it buried its head in Filo’s flat chest. Hostility spiked to murderous intent.
Filo coughed awkwardly, snapping the dragons out of it. They reeled in the killing vibes.
“Master, let me carry that dumbass,” Bingpo said, smiling, hands out.
“You? Uh, as long as you don’t slaughter it, fine,” Filo said, moving to hand over the cutie. But its claws gripped tight—she couldn’t pry it off.
Filo frowned, tugging harder. Crack—her clothes tore, a hole from belly to chest.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Death sentence!
Ice and fire erupted. Bingpo and Chiyan’s aura choked the air. The panda, trembling, flopped to the ground, frozen stiff.
As they moved to strike, Filo’s blood threads wrapped the panda, yanking it up.
“Master!!”
“Chill, it’s just a shirt. Cut the national treasure some slack—its IQ’s naturally low,” Filo said, glancing at the limp panda, who’d given up resisting.
“But this shirt’s toast. Too revealing… kinda spicy…” Filo muttered, eyeing the gaping hole.
Bingpo’s eyes lit up. She dragged out her suitcase, assembling a portable wardrobe in seconds. Clothes—Filo’s size—lined up.
“Master, we’ve got spares! But let me show you my latest masterpiece, crafted in seclusion. You’ll love it!” Bingpo pulled out a shirt that made Filo, braced as she was, blurt, “Whoa!”
“That’s… something else…”
Tftc!