Poison Essence

The cave had likely been the black skeleton's immortal's cave. Suddenly, the sound of cracking bone echoed within the grotto. A dull snap. Between his fingers, Qin Sang rubbed a pinch of black powder, having just crushed one of the black skeleton's bones. The virulent poison had penetrated straight to the marrow; the bones were thoroughly decayed, without a trace of white anywhere to be seen. Bone dust drifted down from his fingertips. Qin Sang stared at the White Jade Old Man for a long time, eyes flickering as passage after passage of the *Canon of the Poison God* flitted across his mind. This sacred scripture of the poison dao could only be described as bizarre and treacherous. An ordinary person coming into possession of it would surely shun it like a tiger, yet Qin Sang had drawn some inspiration from it, and a thought had even surfaced—to test it himself. Unconsciously, he had sat cross-legged before the altar, eyes half-closed in deep thought. As his comprehension of the *Canon of the Poison God* deepened, that thought grew all the more insistent. The *Canon of the Poison God* was a complete legacy, encompassing a foundational cultivation method, its corresponding divine abilities, numerous arts for controlling poison, a compendium of myriad poisons across the world, several poison recipes, and, most important of all, a secret art of drawing poison to temper the body. The cultivation method could be practiced up to the peak of the late Deity Transformation stage—breaking through the Five Talismans Dharma rank, which was to say, up until stepping into the Void Refining stage. It was not a method that pointed straight toward the Great Dao. The *Canon of the Poison God* bore no markers such as parts or scrolls; perhaps its creator had simply halted here, unable to deduce it any further. Upon reflection, that was only natural. After all, such a path of cultivation was too extreme—placing oneself in the jaws of death to seek life. The *Essence Cultivation and Sword Nurturing Chapter* attained enlightenment through killing, yet as one's realm advanced, the murderous nature could gradually be suppressed. The *Canon of the Poison God*, however, never wavered from its initial purpose; the creator seemed to have been exceptionally stubborn. Every founder of such methods was an extraordinary talent, yet each faced unimaginable perils—a single misstep meant eternal damnation. Great Real Persons mostly hailed from the Daoist sects. Qin Sang had made friends with many fellow Daoists in Jushan Diocese; from their conversations, among the sects of Jushan Diocese, only Yintian Palace could be confirmed to have a Great Real Person presiding. For the creator of the *Canon of the Poison God* to have reached the Void Refining stage and left behind such an elaborate legacy was an astonishing feat, making him fully worthy of the title "Poison God." Qin Sang opened his eyes and looked at the White Jade Old Man. Could the elder carved upon it be the creator himself? If the black skeleton was the elder's descendant, prostrating with pious devotion before the founder's sacred icon was only natural. His thoughts returned once more to the *Canon of the Poison God*. He would certainly attempt the secret art of drawing poison to temper the body. His past agreement with Qingdan Yuanjun had been partly motivated by this very art. What Qin Sang was considering now was how to utilize the foundational cultivation method of the *Canon of the Poison God*. According to the descriptions in the scripture, refining poison into essence could dramatically accelerate cultivation speed so long as a sufficient supply of top-grade poison was provided. That was what tempted Qin Sang the most. Switching cultivation methods was out of the question. Without the seven killing talismans of the *Essence Cultivation and Sword Nurturing Chapter*, his cultivation speed would instantly plummet. If the *Canon of the Poison God* had been an orthodox method pointing straight toward the Great Dao, that might have been one thing. But forcing one's way down the poison dao—even if it yielded temporary gains—left an uncertain road ahead. A simple calculation made it clear that the losses would outweigh the benefits. In that case, could he borrow the subtleties of the *Canon of the Poison God* and make them his own? The core doctrine of the *Canon of the Poison God* was devouring virulent poison and transforming it into poison essence to rapidly enhance one's cultivation. Through comprehending the method, Qin Sang discovered that its foundation was built entirely around refining poison into essence, and refining poison into essence was fundamentally cultivating by relying on external objects. Qin Sang's idea was to extract only the portion that refined poison into essence, integrating it into his own method and using it selectively. This was something Qin Sang had done long ago. With the *Heavenly Demon Refining Form*, he had discarded the portions tied to demon beast bloodlines and forcibly cultivated it. Without cultivating the complete method, he would be unable to execute the corresponding poison dao divine abilities, but that was unimportant—as long as it could assist his cultivation, it would suffice. Furthermore, the method in the *Canon of the Poison God* was undoubtedly tailored for poison essence to achieve the closest synergy. Without practicing that method, disharmony would inevitably arise; he feared the poison essence would not follow his commands effortlessly, becoming a hidden hazard that could even disrupt his true essence and shake his foundation. The *Essence Cultivation and Sword Nurturing Chapter* held one advantage over other methods: born of the slaughter dao, it was formless and all-encompassing, which was why Qin Sang dared entertain this notion. Even if his cultivation method could not fully restrain the poison essence, he could still suppress it with the power of the Poison Pearl. Qin Sang dared entertain this thought despite the perils of the *Canon of the Poison God* for two reasons. First, there truly was a viable possibility, and the prospects were immensely alluring. Second, he was confident he could minimize the risks. The Poison Pearl could suppress toxins for him and delay the onset of poison. When he had devoured the sacred relic of Myriad Poison Mountain to restore the Bloodthirsty Miasma Spirit, Qin Sang had confirmed that the more high-grade poison the Poison Pearl absorbed, the more it grew alongside him. At the very least, it had not yet reached its limit. From this, one could see just how unfathomable the fat silkworm's talent was, that a single Poison Pearl detached from it could be so extraordinary. Tempering the body with stars, and tempering the body by drawing poison—his physical body would undergo a double refinement. One could imagine how astonishing his progress would be. Even if his cultivation could not advance to Void Refining in time, he would only need to seek a physical breakthrough to resolve the crisis. The *Canon of the Poison God* explicitly recorded that whether the physical body or true essence broke through, either one was enough to avert danger. So long as he rendered sufficient service to the Daoist sect, he could request a Great Real Person to intervene and cast talismans for an astral essence body infusion. There was no need to worry on that front. Furthermore, if drawing poison to temper the body was truly as wondrous as described in the secret art, his requirement for astral essence might even be reduced. The greatest bottleneck of the *Canon of the Poison God* was the difficulty of finding enough high-grade poison, yet that happened to be the one thing Qin Sang did not lack. The vast flower fields outside had accumulated who knew how much nectar. To leave it unused would be a terrible waste. With that in mind, Qin Sang stirred, rose, and walked out of the cave. *Creak...* The stone door opened, and Qin Sang stepped out. The unfamiliar aura immediately startled the flower spirits, and cocoons rose from the flower pistils one after another. At that moment, Qin Sang formed an odd hand seal with one palm and pressed the back of his hand to his chest. His aura shifted instantly. In a flash, the flower fields returned to tranquility. The trembling cocoons ceased opening and gently sank back into the pistils as the flower spirits resumed their slumber. What he had executed was a secret art from the *Canon of the Poison God* for altering one's aura, which could deceive the flower spirits' senses so they regarded him as one of their own. Anyone cultivating such poisonous flowers had to master this technique. Seeing the secret art take effect, Qin Sang nodded inwardly. He quietly flew up to a mountain summit and then made a circuit along the perimeter of the domain to examine the spiritual array, disturbing no flower spirits along the way. The flower fields differed in grade; the two innermost plots were of top quality. Qin Sang arrived behind the two top-grade flower fields and gazed toward the mountain peak that had startled and driven him back earlier. According to the *Canon of the Poison God*, that place could be regarded as an aperture point of the flower fields, serving a special function. Cultivating this variety of poisonous flower in large quantities carried a hidden peril. If the nectar was not harvested in time, its fusion with the resentful energy would breed a flower immortal among the flower spirits. The flower immortal was precisely the evil ghost Qin Sang had slain. The secret art from the *Canon of the Poison God* could only deceive flower spirits; it could not fool a flower immortal. Flower immortals were born deeply steeped in indelible resentment. Cruel by nature, they would relentlessly slaughter any living creature they encountered, turning into a mortal danger for the master of the flower fields. To prevent powerful flower immortals from arising and usurping the master's domain, special arrangements had been put in place: whenever nectar was left unharvested for a long time, it would flow toward the aperture point. There was no telling how long the black skeleton had been dead, yet nectar had continued to pour in all that while. It was difficult to imagine just how much nectar had accumulated inside the aperture. Dense poison drifted out from the aperture, enveloping the mountain peak. Even from a distance, Qin Sang felt extreme danger and did not dare approach. The aperture would not give birth to a flower immortal and would not affect the flower fields for the time being. Qin Sang decided to leave it alone for now, intending to explore it later once he had the strength. He retrieved the bead and turned it over in his hand. Though it appeared pure, it actually harbored an astonishing accumulation of resentful power, making it unsuitable for cultivation. Refining the bead would certainly yield a vast amount of poison essence, but the resentful power would also affect his mind, causing a drastic change in temperament. Thus, the timing of harvesting the nectar was critical; only the purest nectar could be used. So long as one consistently used pure nectar, one would not be affected by resentful energy. "Poison flowers, flower spirits, flower immortals..." Qin Sang murmured these terms. Would pure nectar truly cause no change in temperament? Qin Sang turned to look at the flower fields. The blooming flowers swayed, vibrant and breathtakingly beautiful. The *Canon of the Poison God* recorded that this flower was itself named "flower spirit"—a term distinct from the entities inhabiting them, referring to the spiritual plant itself, devoid of intellect. Yet this poisonous flower was far too eerie. Since it could breed flower immortals, it clearly possessed the potential to gain sentience; Qin Sang dared not place absolute faith in the records. Could nectar nourished by resentful energy truly be pure? Were there other hidden perils within the cultivation method that remained unknown? For instance, what if the White Jade Old Man was not the creator, but the idol of an evil god? Cultivating the *Canon of the Poison God* might ultimately bind oneself in resentful power, turning the practitioner into a devotee and sacrificial offering to the evil god. Qin Sang sneered inwardly. Resentful power would inevitably act upon the origin soul. If the *Canon of the Poison God* was a trap laid by an evil god, it had picked the wrong target. Of course, Qin Sang had yet to uncover any evidence tied to an evil god; it was merely a conjecture. The jade Buddha gave Qin Sang the confidence to try, but he would not act recklessly. He roughly formulated a plan. First, he would try refining the poison of the Bloodthirsty Miasma Spirit to confirm that he could cultivate poison essence. Then he would refine this bead to verify whether the jade Buddha could dispel the resentful power. If so, he could cultivate with peace of mind. Qin Sang surveyed the entire domain. If everything proved feasible, this place would be the ground of his rise. Relying on these flower fields, he could reach unimaginable heights in an extremely short period. Compared to cultivators of the same rank, he was still young and seemingly had no need to rush, but if he wished to find the path of ascension before the Daoist sects did, he had to enhance his strength as quickly as possible. Besides, since he had encountered this opportunity, there was no reason to pass it up after weighing the gains against the risks. One could never have too much time. Breaking through a day earlier added another sliver of possibility to attaining the Great Dao in the future. As for the pain that refining poison into essence and drawing poison to temper the body would bring him, Qin Sang did not care in the slightest. Could any agony compare to being turned into a refined corpse? With that thought, Qin Sang felt an urgent desire to return to the cave, but there was one thing he needed to do first. Flickering through the air, he flew to a mountain peak in the center of the domain, sat cross-legged, and spread his divine sense to attune himself to the entire grand array. A moment later, the mountains shook, and thunderous booms echoed through the peaks. High in the heavens and across the four corners of the domain, the distorting power conjured by the spiritual array churned violently, forming a tempest that swept toward the sky. To the naked eye, it looked as though someone were splashing ink across the heavens. Qin Sang's fingers flicked rapidly, true essence pouring forth and transforming into streaks of talisman restrictions that flew in every direction. He was repairing the spiritual array. With the passage of time, the spiritual array had become distorted, exposing the flower fields. Qin Sang was now sealing the domain once more to prevent anyone else from barging in and claiming the flower fields for themselves. The disturbances in the outside world were even more violent than those inside the domain. Where the palace had once stood, howling gales expanded outward. Clusters of mist broke apart one after another, giving birth to fresh wind vortexes that swept across the surroundings. This was no simple wind; infused with poisonous mist, vast clusters of small azure blossoms bloomed within the gale only to shatter into fragments, a cycle of life and death signaling that the void itself was on the verge of fracturing. At that moment, outside the poison lake, Qingdan Yuanjun and Boxian Shanren were seated and standing respectively, having just taken medicinal pills to alternate between healing their wounds and dispelling the toxins. Keenly detecting the disturbance in the poison lake, the cross-legged Qingdan Yuanjun rose abruptly. Exchanging a glance with Boxian Shanren, they immediately returned to the poison lake. Passing through the outer layer of poisonous water, they instantly saw a massive cluster of mist filled with chaotic power and interlaced with the radiance of poison restrictions, spreading outward at high speed. The two Real Persons' expressions grew exceedingly grim. Before this disturbance, Qin Sang might have still had a sliver of hope. But with the interior of the poison lake collapsing, Qin Sang, situated at the very center of the collapse, faced certain death. Barring a miracle, he was doomed. Even if they dared risk grave peril to charge into the mist cluster, they would likely find no trace of him. After a long silence, Boxian Shanren sighed softly. "Fortunately, Daoist friend, you secured that spiritual tree. What a pity about Daoist Qingfeng..." Qingdan Yuanjun let out a deep sigh as well. "Neither seen alive nor found dead... how am I to account for this to Real Person Zhijian?" From what they understood, Daoist Qingfeng was a solitary cultivator without a master's sect or disciples, yet Real Person Zhijian regarded him with great esteem, even opening an immortal's cave for him within his own Daoist sanctuary. Inside the flower fields. Qin Sang looked up at the sky. Seeing through the spiritual array that the two Real Persons had withdrawn from the poison lake, he cast several restrictions into the array. Withdrawing his gaze and sweeping his eyes across the flower fields, Qin Sang noticed that some of the nectar had matured; it was time to harvest. He retrieved a jade bottle from the Qianjun Ring, descended into a flower field, and hovered above a spiritual flower. The spiritual flower was massive. The center of its pistil was as wide as a silver basin. A flower spirit was slumbering within the pistil. Qin Sang extended his right hand, true essence undulating in his palm before shifting to form a long, transparent needle. He gently probed the needle tip inside. As if feeling pain, the spiritual flower's pistil suddenly tightened and its petals trembled slightly, only unfurling slowly after a moment. Qin Sang withdrew the slender needle and flew toward the next blossom. As he harvested more and more spiritual flowers, a crystalline droplet gradually condensed at the needle's tip—this was pure nectar, pure flower poison! Once a single drop formed, he collected it into the jade bottle. Like a bee among flowers, Qin Sang busied himself across the fields, finally arriving at the two top-grade plots. The nectar produced by different fields showed little variation in quality; the top-grade fields merely required fewer flowers to condense a single drop. His movements grew increasingly practiced, and he soon finished harvesting all the nectar. With a wave of his hand, jade bottles hovered before him. Qin Sang smiled faintly, swept them all into his sleeve, and returned to the cave. He extended his divine sense into the White Jade Old Man once more, reviewing the *Canon of the Poison God* several times until it was committed to memory, then sat motionless in silence. Inside the poison lake, time was unknowable. Left undisturbed, Qin Sang remained in meditation for an unknown length of time before finally stirring. The Poison Pearl flew out of his dantian. The poison-warding radiance flashed into view, drawing forth a wisp of virulent poison. Qin Sang took a deep breath and drew it into his body!