Courage

Qin Sang held out the Cold Metal sword, recounting to Yagu the true purpose behind Yihui Stockade's selection of Holy Maidens without holding anything back, and then watched her eyes, waiting for her choice. Practicing martial arts and cultivating immortality was no dinner party. To repay Yagu for saving his life, Qin Sang could only grant her power so that she had the ability to take control of her own destiny; he could not protect her forever. His own path ahead was uncertain, and he had many pressing matters to attend to. Once he left, he likely would never return. When facing enemies who intended to refine them into pills, if Yagu lacked even the courage to raise a blade for revenge, then even if she acquired power in the future, she would be nothing more than a toothless tiger, only inviting disaster upon herself. Heaven helps those who help themselves. If Yagu did not dare take the sword, Qin Sang would consider finding a safe and peaceful place for her to enjoy a lifetime of wealth and comfort, keeping her from being dragged into the treacherous winds and rains of the jianghu. Perhaps that would be a blessing for her as well. Using humans to refine pills and nourish insect gu. The cruelty of the cultivation world was forcibly torn open by Qin Sang, revealing the tip of an iceberg before Yagu. In this world, even if the Witch God truly existed, there were no so-called Shamanic God envoys—only a group of cultivators wielding great power, using the Witch God's name as a pretext to enslave others. Yagu was stunned dumb. Over a decade of deeply ingrained beliefs was shattered by Qin Sang, laying bare the bloody truth. Red candles flickered, and sweet incense filled the room. A brazier burned in the room, radiating a faint warmth, yet Yagu was shivering uncontrollably. The color drained from her face as she bit her lower lip. Catching Qin Sang's gaze, she seemed to understand his intent. Finally summoning her courage, she raised both hands and reached for the Cold Metal sword. Her hands trembled, but she gripped the hilt firmly. Qin Sang smiled faintly and said, "We are merely people with the talent for cultivation, known outside as immortal cultivators. We have nothing to do with the Witch God and are no envoys of the gods. We are just mortals who command formidable power, and when our time comes, we die just the same. Thinking of it this way, do you still feel awe? Moreover, as long as one possesses a spiritual root, one can cultivate. You can become a cultivator as well." "Me?" Yagu's eyes widened in disbelief. Qin Sang nodded. Just moments ago, he had discovered that Yagu also possessed a spiritual root. Unfortunately, it was a quadruple spiritual root. Though slightly better than his own, the difference was minimal; both were pseudo-spiritual roots. Barring some extraordinary fortune, her immortal path was destined to be hopeless. Nonetheless, having a spiritual root meant Yagu was qualified to enter the cultivation world, opening up an entirely new realm for her future. Her courage in accepting the flying sword showed that beneath her delicate exterior lay an unyielding heart; otherwise, having endured so much suffering, she would not still yearn for goodness. Qin Sang decided to proceed according to his original plan, teaching her a cultivation method to help her alter her destiny. Metal, wood, water, and fire—possessing these four spiritual roots, she could practice techniques of all four elements, excluding only earth. Having browsed through the vast collection on Pagoda Peak, Qin Sang not only knew many basic techniques for the Qi Refinement stage, but had also memorized several legacies pointing straight to the Nascent Soul Dao, some of which included Qi Refinement portions that could be cultivated seamlessly from start to finish. Pondering which cultivation method to pass on to Yagu, Qin Sang deliberated for a moment and suddenly recalled one that might suit her: Old Man Dique's Dutian Demonic Sound. Dutian Demonic Sound sought the Dao through sound and was quite extraordinary. Qin Sang still remembered Old Man Dique's various methods back in the ancient cultivator's abandoned abode; he could not only disguise and transform his appearance, but also seal spirit talismans, exhibiting bizarre and unpredictable techniques. Dutian Demonic Sound had been one of Qin Sang's backup cultivation methods after Core Formation, but now that he had obtained Senior Qingzhu's self-created cultivation method, he no longer needed it. Yagu's voice was her greatest asset—to a degree, it could be said to be as rare as heavenly or dual spiritual roots. Could this talent be of assistance in cultivating Dutian Demonic Sound? Qin Sang did not cultivate Dutian Demonic Sound himself, so he could not be certain, but it was worth a try. On the path of cultivation, one had to seize every shred of possibility. "Close your eyes." Qin Sang extended a finger and tapped Yagu between the brows, transmitting the complete Dutian Demonic Sound to her. Lest Yagu be overwhelmed, Qin Sang sealed the stages beyond Foundation Establishment with a restriction. Once Yagu attained sufficient cultivation and her spiritual sense grew stronger, she would be able to unseal them herself. With so much knowledge suddenly flooding her mind, Yagu looked bewildered and uncomprehending. It took her a long while to grasp what it all was, and for now, she could only memorize it whole without fully understanding. "I will first guide you in how to cultivate. Your vengeance must be taken by your own hands," Qin Sang spoke, then began instructing Yagu in cultivation, passing down the Clarity and Stillness Scripture to her. Back then, he had fumbled around on his own and taken a long time just to achieve entry. With his personal guidance, Yagu would avoid many detours and soon be able to achieve meditative stillness. With the aid of a few medicinal pills afterward, she would produce a sense of qi before long. ... The Witch God Festival drew near. On the eve of the festival, Yihui Stockade would hold a grand shamanic sacrificial rite. The Holy Maidens would hold flowers and enter the sacred cave. Sweet rain would fall from the heavens, and the Witch God would bestow blessings. On the surface, it was a scene of serene harmony, with everyone hoping to receive the Witch God's favor and praying for blessings in the coming year. A few days before the festival, Witch Clan people from surrounding stockades had begun arriving along the Qingyi River, gathering at Yihui Stockade. The mountains east of Yihui Stockade were packed with crowds, predominantly young men and women. Everywhere were garland-wearing maidens and vigorous young braves. Dusk settled in from all directions, and a bright moon hung high in the sky. Bonfires were lit across the mountains, and men and women sang responsive songs and danced, praising the Witch God amid ringing laughter. By the shore of the lake where Yihui Stockade stood, beast bones had been piled into a towering sacrificial altar. Sharp bone spurs protruded, hung with skulls of various ferocious beasts and painted with twisted patterns in fresh blood. The altar was bristling with torches and laid out with offerings. Guards of Yihui Stockade, draped in colorful ribbons and bearing large drums, formed a formation. Dong! At the first drum roll, the dancing men and women in the distance fell silent one after another, prostrating themselves devoutly toward the altar. At this moment, a beautiful woman emerged from Yihui Stockade, ascending the altar step by step. She was also a priest of Yihui Stockade, clad in an exquisite, vibrant robe woven from various bird feathers, with intricate patterns tattooed across her face. Standing atop the high altar, the priestess tilted her head toward the starry sky. Her eyes held an entranced cast as she muttered incantations under her breath, seemingly praying to the gods. Suddenly, she raised both arms high toward the bright moon, as though lifting a silver plate. Then her hands slammed down violently! Below the altar, the guards—who had long raised their mallets and gathered their strength—struck the massive drums with fierce force at that very instant. Dong! The unified drumbeats set blood boiling and shook the mountains and rivers. To the rhythm of the drums, the priestess danced upon the high stage. Her figure was alluring and her movements bizarre, yet imbued with immense power that harmonized with the drumming. Gradually, her movements quickened until her limbs blurred into a frenzy, like a serpent dancing wild, yet possessing an uncanny beauty. Qin Sang stood in the shadows, watching the dancing priestess with a faint look of surprise. The dance she performed was a very ancient shamanic dance. As she danced, Qin Sang sensed a strange power emerging from her body—a power that seemed to originate from the tattoos on her skin.