When had the gray qi invaded his body without him noticing in the slightest?
Qin Sang felt a chill run down his spine.
Could it have been during that period of unconsciousness right after he was teleported over?
He could not remember how long he had been unconscious.
Had he unknowingly run into some bizarre anomaly during that time? Was it because of this cluster of gray qi that he had ended up floating on the river rather than arriving at the other end of the teleportation array?
There was another possibility: Qin Sang had been fully conscious when the gray qi invaded, yet had failed to detect it.
Two places were the most suspicious: the bronze hall of Ziwei Palace and the ancient teleportation array.
Both had been constructed by ancient cultivators, each shrouded in its own mystery.
Inside the bronze hall, Qin Sang's life had hung in someone else's hands, his mind consumed with escape; he had had no time to inspect the hall's layout closely.
Even so, he still retained impressions of the bronze hall: the sacrificial altar, the fiendish cave, and the blood bead in Chenyan's hand.
One look was enough to know none of those were benevolent.
And then there was the ancient teleportation array. Even today, contemporary cultivators had yet to unravel the secrets of ancient teleportation arrays, let alone one of such immense range that required two top-grade spirit stones.
During the teleportation, Qin Sang had felt a terrifying force bear down upon him, nearly tearing him to pieces.
Both places could have been the source of the gray qi.
Yet Qin Sang could not fathom for the life of him what this gray qi was, or why it had targeted him.
Qin Sang began channeling a wisp of true essence to touch the gray qi. But whether it was true essence from his corpse core or his golden core, it was swallowed the moment it entered the gray qi, vanishing without a trace like a stone dropped into the sea, yielding no reaction whatsoever.
His spiritual sense met the same fate. Upon entering, the strand of spiritual sense was severed immediately; Qin Sang could not perceive what was inside the gray qi at all.
Later, Qin Sang grew bolder and channeled more true essence and spiritual sense to blast the gray qi, but the result remained unchanged.
It seemed to treat Qin Sang's sea of qi as its own nest, proving even more stubborn than the restriction talisman fragments!
The only good news was that this cluster of gray qi stayed obediently within his dantian, resting motionless beside his golden core without hindering his cultivation or combat in the least.
Though it grated on him, Qin Sang had no way to deal with it.
Helpless, he could only let the gray qi occupy his dantian.
Fortunately, for the time being, it appeared harmless. He would find a solution once his cultivation grew higher.
Out of sight, out of mind. Qin Sang shifted his inner gaze away from his dantian and looked toward his physical body and origin soul.
Forming a core brought an all-around leap in power. The stubborn corpse qi clinging to him had also been thoroughly purged the moment spiritual energy flooded his body.
From now on, he no longer had to worry about undergoing a corpse transformation.
Recalling the scene of being pulled from the Qingyi River by Yagu, Qin Sang smiled wryly.
At the time, he had been drifting among broken branches and withered boughs, an arm missing, corpse qi erupting across his body. Not only was he completely devoid of blood, his skin had turned a mottled bluish-black, little different from an evil ghost with a green face and protruding fangs.
Yagu had been doing laundry by the riverbank. Terrified by the one-armed corpse, she had nearly kicked him back into the river. Fortunately, Qin Sang regained consciousness and called out for help, which led to her rescuing him and bringing him home.
Otherwise, who knew how much longer he would have drifted? If he had drifted into the wild lands, the danger would have been far greater.
"In a bit, I'll return to Qianhu Stockade first to settle my karmic tie with Yagu, and then go search for spirit insects and forbidden grounds," Qin Sang thought to himself.
The topographical map from the Five Insects Sect did not offer detailed markings of the outside world, especially the wild lands. It only marked the habitats of nearly twenty species of spirit insects, none of which Qin Sang wanted.
Once the Five Insects Sect gathered more information, it would not be too late to seek out his natal insect gu.
As for the ancient teleportation array, he could only search for it slowly. Qin Sang planned to retrace his path along the river he had drifted down to see if he could turn up anything.
With these thoughts in mind, Qin Sang opened his Qianjun Ring and retrieved the three Ten Directions Yanluo Banners.
One was intact, while two were damaged, though only on their banner surfaces.
According to Patriarch Kuiyin's refining method, he only needed to condense the purest refined soul energy into thread to repair the two magic treasures.
Three Ten Directions Yanluo Banners could be arranged into the most basic formation, yet possess might comparable to a medium-grade magic treasure. For now, they would be Qin Sang's strongest asset.
Both the ebony sword and the Primordial Concentric Rings were low-grade magic treasures.
Now that Qin Sang had formed his core, he could set about repairing them.
He placed the two damaged magic treasures across his knees, then brought out all the Ten Directions Yanluo Banner magic tools.
Aside from the ten he used himself, there were fourteen seized from the remnants of the Kuiyin Sect—more than two full sets in total.
These two sets of ghost banners were even more powerful than talisman treasures, practically the strongest weapons below true magic treasures.
Having formed his core, Qin Sang no longer needed them. But if put up for auction, they would surely cause a huge uproar, fetching a handsome sum as countless Foundation Establishment cultivators fought over them.
However, repairing a magic treasure required a vast amount of pure soul qi; even these twenty-four might not suffice.
Qin Sang could not leave the Western Frontier for the moment. In a place as barren as this, there probably weren't many soul-refining magic tools around, and he would never be able to gather enough pure soul qi otherwise. He had no choice but to extract the refined souls from the ghost banners to repair the magic treasures.
Whether searching for insects or seeking secret realms and forbidden grounds, he had to venture deep into the wilderness. Qin Sang needed to boost his strength as quickly as possible; he could wait no longer.
*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...*
Twenty-four compact ghost banners flew from Qin Sang's palm and planted themselves into the ground in three neat rows.
Qin Sang reviewed the refining method in his mind several times, then picked up the least damaged magic treasure while summoning a ghost banner from the ground.
*Whoosh!*
A sinister wind suddenly howled, plunging the cave dwelling into bitter cold. Shadowy silhouettes flickered as countless ghostly forms manifested.
*Crack!*
The ghost banner abruptly shattered.
Unfazed, Qin Sang discarded the ruined banner and clenched his fist forward. Vigorous true essence instantly enveloped the sinister wind, compressing it into a tight sphere that drifted toward him.
Chilling ghostly shrieks rose and fell.
Unmoved, Qin Sang shifted through hand seals in rapid succession. Complex restrictions flew from his fingertips one after another, sinking into the sinister wind.
A moment later, a wisp of grayish-white vapor slowly drifted out from the wind, delicate and slender like a thread of silk. This was soul silk, condensed from the purest soul qi, which could be used directly to weave the surface of the Ten Directions Yanluo Banner.
As the soul silk was drawn out, the commotion within the sinister wind gradually subsided.
Soon, the soul silk snapped, measuring less than a foot long.
Destroying an entire ghost banner yielded only such a short segment of soul silk. It was hard to imagine how Patriarch Kuiyin had managed to gather enough to craft ten full magic treasures back in the day.
With a hook of his finger, the soul silk floated over and, as if alive, wrapped itself around his fingertip, conveying a cool, shadowy sensation.
He was in no rush to repair the magic treasure, turning his gaze back toward the sinister wind.
The ghostly wails had ceased, yet some of the ghosts had not been completely extinguished. Many specks of green fluorescence drifted within the sinister wind—the last lingering traces of the ghosts' spiritual awareness.
In the end, Qin Sang took the initiative to halt the extraction of soul silk.
A saying circulated in the cultivation world: so long as a spark of lucidity remained intact, there was still a chance of returning to samsara.
The Ten Directions Yanluo Banner as a magic treasure was, ironically, far less vicious than the magic tools.
Repairing the magic treasure required only the purest soul qi; there was no need to keep the souls imprisoned.
"Does reincarnation truly exist in this world?"
Qin Sang muttered to himself. With a wave of his hand, he released the sinister wind.
The specks of fluorescence drifted in all directions, vanishing before Qin Sang's eyes.
Chapter 628