Pei San strictly followed Pei Yan's order, who looked indifferent towards the curse, and mechanically kicked Moira, who was ensnared by the Source Energy Net, with emotionless precision. At first, Moira continued to curse vocally, but as each kick drove her body against the net, her unhealed wounds repeatedly reopened, and her cries gradually dwindled until she lay curled up silently like a dead dog within the net.

The entire arena, both inside and outside, was silent. This battle had reached a point where it held no entertainment value or reason to continue, yet those on stage showed no signs of stopping, and the Magic Realm's audience didn't react with rage, which was rather curious. Nobody here was a fool; even without knowing the context, many could guess there was a deeper reason behind Pei Yan's abnormal brutality. Thus, everyone ceased their discussions and focused intently on the stage, awaiting this farce's conclusion and the ultimate reveal of the mystery.

"Enough!" Seeing Moira within the net nearing her last breath, Pei Yan halted the mechanical clone's violent actions. As he adjusted his restored body, he walked over to Moira, crouched beside her, and coldly smiled, "How come you're still not revealing your true self to save yourself?"

"Ugh...ugh...ugh!" On the ground, Moira's mouth involuntarily trickled blood, her bruised and swollen eyes searching for Pei Yan's voice. Her gaze was filled with despair and mockery. She had accepted her fate. Realizing Pei Yan had already detected her identity, knowing that no matter what she did, escape was impossible, she would rather be beaten to death than expose her true identity. The implications were too broad; if she were to slip and expose herself, her special identity would place her mentor, the Master of Origin in the Magic Realm, in a highly awkward position. Although Pei Yan was responsible for forcing this situation, it did not ensure her mentor wouldn't misdirect his anger towards her family. However, if she endured this torment, choosing death over exposure, her mentor would acknowledge her sacrifice, treat her family kindly, and avenge her when possible.

She had lost all hope for survival; her last wish was to take Pei Yan with her into the afterlife!

"Ah, it seems you won't shed tears until you see the coffin. Being beaten like this, if you had yielded, you would have suffered less." Observing Moira's demeanor, akin to a dead pig unafraid of boiling water, Pei Yan sighed, stood up, gently touched a storage ring, and took out a glass bottle before placing it in front of Moira. He then systematically produced more identical glass bottles, forming a circle around her. After taking out eighteen glass bottles and arranging them around Moira, Pei Yan finally stopped, stepped back a dozen paces, and covered his mouth and nose, gloating, "Ah, I hope this thing works as he said it would, or else besides killing you, I really have no other way to deal with you."

With that, Pei Yan raised his hand, aimed at the glass bottles, and snapped his fingers. Each time, the air pressure broke a bottle. As soon as the once-transparent gas inside each bottle made contact with the outside air, it transformed and fused into a scarlet viscous mist. When this sticky mist spread over Moira's body, it was as if bees had found pollen, excitedly gathering around, crazily drilling into Moira's open wounds.

Initially, Moira lay on the ground without any reaction, like a dead fish. But as more and more of the mist entered her body, she finally reacted. Starting with slight twitching, escalating to tearing pain from the inside out, making her forget the pain caused by the Source Energy Net cutting her skin. She began to struggle violently within the net, emitting shrill cries.

"Pei Yan! You devil! Demon! May you die a horrid death! Ah~ ah~ ah! What is this stuff! Ugh! How did you come to possess the Blood Race's unique blood poison!"

Hearing Moira's words, uttered in a momentary loss of sanity under unbearable pain, Pei Yan stepped back two more steps and switched on an internal breathing system. The blood mist indeed, as claimed, was nauseatingly foul. After a few breaths of fresh air, he sneered, "What now? No longer pretending? Admitting you're from the Blood Race?"

Moira was already unable to respond to Pei Yan's taunts. Under the dual torment of external and internal attacks, her entire body suddenly exploded with a bang, countless pieces of her flesh flowing out like sludge through the net's holes. Outside the net, this blood and flesh attempted to regroup and recondense into a human shape. However, the toxins coursing through her erupted at this moment. In delirium, Moira screamed and swung her unformed limbs aimlessly, releasing waves of attacks to vent her physical pain.

Blood Escape, Dark Curse, bloodline attacks, Blood Race clone, life devour — when Moira, reduced to a bloody pulp, emerged from the net, some had already recognized it as the Blood Race's unique Blood Escape Technique, though they still couldn't be sure of their judgment. However, as these Blood Race techniques were uncontrollably unleashed one by one, everyone understood Pei Yan's brutal treatment of Moira's intention.

Her true identity was the Blood Race! This revelation did not stir the entire audience into an uproar; instead, it plunged the viewing arena into dead silence. Everyone was petrified, not daring to take even a deep breath. Every realm had its dirty secrets: the new and old aristocracy struggle within the Demon Race, the different beast factions in the Dragon Realm, the power struggle within the Immortal Palace and among major sects — and that's just the internal affairs. The remnants of dark forces, once cast into the shadows millennia ago, sometimes engage ambiguously, sometimes in conflict. This is no great secret; those in power enjoy such dog-eat-dog spectacles of forces balancing against each other. No one would ruthlessly destroy the other completely, lest they end up like the cooked rabbit and slain dog of ancient tales.

This game has played out for ten thousand years, and everyone has grown used to it until now, when one side of the game seemingly doesn't want to play anymore. They have found another master they'll have more fun serving — the Blood Candle Dragon!

Hence, the game changed. No longer a child's rehearsal, it escalated into a deadly fight threatening one's interests. Thus, all realms no longer turned a blind eye to the former dark forces; conflicts and their intensity increased significantly.

And at this crucial moment, when the five major realms have declared their stance for balancing against the Blood Candle Dragon, upon this widely watched arena platform, Pei Yan kicked open the truth that the Master of Origin in the Magic Realm had taken in dark forces, a Blood Race individual, as a disciple. Not only that, but he also heavily nurtured her, bestowing a Divine Artifact and letting her participate in the fights.

This was akin to slapping the Magic Realm's Supreme right across the face for everyone to see!