Immortality begins with Becoming an Alchemy Grandmaster

Chapter 1718: Chapter 632: Every Man for Himself, Vine King Emerges

Among towering mountains and steep ridges, ancient trees interlaced, blocking out the sky.

Amidst the verdant greenery, how could there be talk of Deadwood Ridge?

Five figures moved steadily yet deliberately through the mountain terrain.

Leading the group was Dao Lan, the Seven-Star Demon Hunter, forging ahead like a sharp blade slicing through the mist, confidently navigating the winding and elusive forest along the most direct path.

Fishing Elder walked in the middle, dangling his unique magic item, the Sound-Capturing Bell, from his fingertips.

On either side were Gou Xingshi and Huangfu Song, both wearing stern expressions.

At the rear was Luo Chen, the weakest in cultivation among the five.

Dao Lan took the lead, serving as the vanguard, guaranteeing their safety with his formidable prowess.

Luo Chen, the least advanced in cultivation, brought up the rear, proving that strength comes in many forms.

The name Demon King Qingyang was rarely uttered in casual conversation, but everyone was acutely aware of it—as evidenced by Huangfu Song’s occasional glances of apprehension directed at Luo Chen.

Luo Chen remained indifferent to Huangfu Song’s gaze. Meanwhile, his Divine Consciousness expanded to scan the surroundings, even as his mind recollected Fishing Elder’s account of Deadwood Ridge.

This was a domain occupied by Wood-type Spirit Plants.

Despite its appearance of peculiar exotic flowers and herbs, all Spirit Plants here were merely companions to the Withered Bloodvine.

In other words, the moment they set foot on Deadwood Ridge, they were already detected by the Fifth-Order Withered Bloodvine.

Fighting in such an environment offered no geographical advantage.

Notably, intelligence suggested that besides the Fifth-Order vine, there were countless Second- to Fourth-Order low-tier Withered Bloodvines in Deadwood Ridge!

Under the Vine King’s control, these vines could unleash remarkable fighting power.

But that’s just an illusion!

”The claim that the Withered Bloodvine is a social plant is utterly mistaken.”

”Withered Bloodvines possess exceedingly strong territorial awareness; within a thousand-mile radius, no other similar Spirit Plants can coexist.”

”Those low-tier vines are essentially extensions of the Vine King’s branches—think of them as subordinate vines.”

”Usually, the Vine King remains in a dormant state, absorbing Spirit Qi. Even when encountering trespassers, it typically lets its subordinate vines with embedded consciousness handle them.”

”Our task is to sever as many subordinate vines as possible to weaken the Vine King’s main body.”

”As for the combat power of these subordinate vines, gentlemen, there’s little need to worry. The Fourth-Order Withered Bloodvine, at best, matches the level of an Early Golden Core Cultivator. It might pose a nuisance for other Golden Core Cultivators, but for us, it’s merely a matter of time.”

Recollecting Fishing Elder’s words in his mind, Luo Chen did not let his guard down entirely.

While Spirit Plants and Stone-type Spirit Beings tend to have relatively unimpressive combat abilities, take Hidden Dust, for instance—though it reached Third-Order Finalization, its explosive combat prowess barely equaled an Early Golden Core Cultivator.

But sheer numbers could overwhelm!

Even ants can kill an elephant given enough of them.

If it were so simple, Fishing Elder wouldn’t have assembled a team of five Late Golden Core-stage fighters for this mission.

Clearly, Deadwood Ridge—a range teeming with countless Withered Bloodvines—was far from trivial.

Luo Chen’s thoughts were interrupted as his steps suddenly halted.

”What’s wrong?”

Gou Xingshi, walking ahead, inquired.

Simultaneously, Fishing Elder’s Sound-Capturing Bell emitted a crisp chime.

Fishing Elder glanced at Luo Chen, and the two exchanged a nod.

”They’re here!”

The threat wasn’t coming from ahead, but from behind.

In the shadowed forest, white vines resembling spiritual snakes and coiling pythons began slithering in from all directions, their rustling gradually merging into a torrential roar.

Fishing Elder remained composed, his aged voice ringing out.

”Move forward!”

”If it doesn’t want us to proceed, then let’s find our way to it.”

At the front, Dao Lan said nothing, but a massive broadsword appeared in his hand.

He swung the blade, unleashing a blow that erupted into a blade light tens of meters long.

Wherever the blade light passed, trees collapsed, the ground split open, and the low-tier Withered Bloodvines encircling them were instantly severed.

Witnessing the strike, Luo Chen couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

An unremarkable blow carried a power nearly equal to his Fierce Sun Technique, but it required no casting time.

”So this is Dao Lan, the Seven-Star Demon Hunter renowned throughout the Ten Thousand Immortals Gathering for his fighting prowess!”

Luo Chen murmured inwardly, though his actions didn’t falter.

With a sweeping motion of his wide sleeve, a multitude of fist-sized fireballs flew out, striking at the encroaching vines from all directions.

The First-Order Technique—Fireball Technique.

Why waste a bull’s strength on a chicken?

These were merely low-tier subordinate vines; wasting Qi Power wasn’t worth it.

Furthermore, Luo Chen could cast such fireballs almost infinitely without any casting time at all.

Between Dao Lan’s strikes upfront and Luo Chen’s fiery bombardment from the rear, the five-man team surged forward towards the depths of Deadwood Ridge.

Meanwhile, countless white vines sprang up from the earth within the ridge, converging endlessly toward them.

From a bird’s-eye view, the spectacle resembled a catastrophic flood inundating a few struggling ants.

...

Boom!

A dignified stream of Sword Qi slashed forth, and the surging blade light swept across like tidal waves.

As the sword light dissipated across a radius of several miles and gradually calmed, Huangfu Song’s figure emerged, radiating arrogance as his gaze landed on a writhing white vine beneath his feet.

Thick as a barrel, etched with tree-ring-like patterns.

”A Fourth-Order Withered Bloodvine has appeared!”

The arrogance on his face faded slightly, replaced by a sense of solemnity.

Turning his head, his pupils abruptly contracted.

Before him stood Qingyang Zi, clad in his Red Cloud Robe, conjuring a massive Qi-powered claw that tenaciously gripped a Fourth-Order Withered Bloodvine.