A torrent of memories surged in, accompanied by a chaotic, bloodthirsty, and savage mental pollution. The female statue held no low status; even with part of her spirit body severed, she could still drive an early Level 7 Day Wanderer insane. But Zhang Yuanqing was different.
He specialized in the divine power of the sun, granting him a spirit body tougher than that of an ordinary Day Wanderer of the same level. Bolstered further by the power of the Illusion God's Heart, he could barely manage to devour spirits beyond his rank.
Suppressing the invading chaos in his mind, he digested the memory fragments.
Before long, he uncovered the female statue’s true identity: she was Sect Master Yaoguang, the very leader who had led the disciples of Mount Shu against the rebel army.
After her death, the Mount Shu disciples built Yaoguang Hall in her honor, offering incense daily. Yaoguang's remnant soul had affixed itself to the sacred statue, slowly reviving under the nurturing warmth of incense and faith.
For a long time, she had served as the sect's guardian spirit, quietly residing within the sculpture to receive the worship and offerings of disciples.
Ordinary disciples, of course, were unaware of her existence.
Only the elders who had erected the hall and honored her knew that her remnant soul resided in the statue, and they had entrusted the sect's supreme treasure, the Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger, to her keeping to guard the South Courtyard.
Until one day, the black smoke from the main hall spread to the South Courtyard. As a yin spirit, Yaoguang could not withstand the corruption of yin qi, falling into a pure wraith that instinctively slaughtered any living beings nearby.
*Incense and faith can actually restore strength to a remnant soul and allow it to linger in the mortal realm for ages?* Gaining this new knowledge, Zhang Yuanqing endured his throbbing head, filled with astonishment.
If that was the case, why would ancient cultivators have ever feared running out of lifespan?
*Uh, wait, that's not right. Cultivators who die of old age see their souls and physical bodies perish simultaneously. Yaoguang succumbed to an injury to her foundation—she suffered an unnatural death!*
When high-ranking Dominators suffered violent deaths, their remnant souls could wander the world for a long time. Thus, upon receiving incense and faith, she had survived as a guardian spirit.
*Make a mental note of this. It might come in handy later!* Zhang Yuanqing continued reading the memory fragments.
As broken fragments of memory flickered past in his mind, Zhang Yuanqing caught a piece that sent a surge of adrenaline through him—a human-devouring art!
Ever since the fall of the Divine Han, the tradition of cultivators being enfeoffed as kings and appointed as chancellors had ended. A large portion of cultivators had scattered into the pugilistic world to form sects, throwing the order among practitioners into disarray. No longer acting for the realm and its people, they fought purely for selfish gain.
Thus, evil arts that plundered the spiritual essence of others came into being.
By the Tang dynasty, the order of the martial world had stabilized, and such arts were deemed forbidden. Only members of the wicked paths still avidly used them to devour the spiritual essence of others to enhance themselves.
Legend had it that this art was created by an alchemist of the Daoist sects. Limited by natural talent, his cultivation had stalled when he reached the age of fifty.
In his despair, an evil concept suddenly struck him: if herbs rich in spirituality could be refined into miraculous pills, why not humans?
He pored tirelessly over ancient texts, scouring Daoist scriptures and contemplating them for several years, until he created the concoction method for the Three Powers Pill. The so-called Three Powers meant refining a person's earthly souls, heavenly souls, and qi into a divine pill, consumption of which caused one's power to skyrocket.
Relying on this method, that alchemist roamed the realm, utterly unmatched.
Yet at the peak of his glory, having devoured too many soul fragments, he suffered a mental breakdown and turned into a lunatic.
Without a guiding will to control it, the vast and chaotic spiritual energy in his body ran wild, backfiring upon his physical form and blowing him to pieces.
Zhang Yuanqing had been fretting over not having a "human-devouring secret art." Hunting Sect Master Chunyang or asking the old crone for a technique both seemed out of the question.
The former was a rat hiding in the gutters—both a Stargazer and a Voidwalker—making him far too difficult to capture alive.
The latter detested evil like poison, upright and majestic; she would never allow a disciple to raise their cultivation through such wicked arts.
Now that he had found the secret art in this dungeon, the heavens were truly helping him!
Memory fragments continued to flash by. Soon, Zhang Yuanqing saw Sect Master Yaoguang before she turned into a stone statue, her feather robes fluttering as she danced gracefully, an aged yellow gourd hovering before her.
The dance was sometimes wild and ferocious, resembling an epileptic fit; sometimes swaying gently with twisting hips and waist, soft and graceful; and sometimes vigorous and potent, like a martial demonstration.
This did not look like a dance created for entertainment, but rather an ancient sacrificial dance.
The dance was not long, lasting a mere thirty seconds. Sect Master Yaoguang, her feather robes fluttering, bowed and said:
"Please turn, treasure!"
A thread of white light shot from the gourd, bearing faint brows and eyes, whistling toward the enemy camp at the foot of the mountain.
The vision vanished.
Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes and pinched the throbbing bridge of his nose. Even though he had suppressed the backlash of Spirit Devouring using the powers of a Day Wanderer and a Voidwalker, his mental state had still developed problems.
He had become irritable, quick-tempered, his thoughts scrambled, incapable of calm reflection.
Seeing him "awaken," Fu Qingyang and the others gathered around, their gazes landing on the yellow gourd. "What kind of treasure is this?"
Zhang Yuanqing let out a long breath and sighed. "A wicked badass treasure—the Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger!"
*The Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger?*
Everyone was visibly moved; clearly, all of them had heard the renown of this Dharma treasure.
Xiahou Aotian's titanium-alloy dog eyes flashed with excitement. "Quick, let me see!"
He eagerly reached out to snatch it.
Zhang Yuanqing's gaze sharpened, and his short blade rested against the man's neck, his expression feral. "Looking to die?!"
Xiahou Aotian froze.
As if just coming to his senses, the ferocity on Zhang Yuanqing's face vanished entirely. He hastily pulled back his blade, shook his head, and said in anguish, "Sorry. My mental state isn't good."
*The ghostly statue's level was too high—he messed himself up devouring her spirit!* Xiahou Aotian took the chance to seize the yellow gourd and suggested, "Hurry and find a way to revive the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter. A Musician can soothe your agitated mind. Why did you even devour a spirit for no good reason?"
With that, he looked down to read the item's details.
"'Contains a thread of fine light within, possessing brows and eyes'? How bizarre. Can an item spirit sprout brows and eyes? How in the world was this Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger forged? I need to analyze it..." Xiahou Aotian muttered to himself, cradling the aged yellow gourd.
At the same time, he understood why Yuanshi Tianzun had devoured the spirit.
Without mastering the sacrificial dance, the Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger was a useless relic left to gather dust, and the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter would be doomed to die.
"Stop analyzing it, you're wasting time." Heavenly King Demonic Eye—using his handle Daode Tianzun—snatched it away. After reading the item details, he drew a sharp breath. "Even though this item isn't rule-based, its lethality is at least peak Level 8, maybe even Level 9. How could the Mount Shu South Courtyard dungeon have an item of this caliber?"
Both he and Fu Qingyang were at early or mid Level 8. An output of peak Level 8 was enough to wound them, and Level 9 would be lethal.
Yaoguang Hall was only the first stage; it shouldn't contain an item of such power.
Fu Qingyang took the item, examined its properties, and addressed Demonic Eye's confusion:
"Its strength is high, but its attack frequency is low. At most, it can pick off two or three members of a team, not wipe everyone out. In an A-rank dungeon, this level of power is reasonable."
He looked toward Zhang Yuanqing and asked, "Let's save the Palace Master first."
*And let us enjoy the sacrificial dance!* Fu Qingyang added inwardly.
In his compromised mental state, Zhang Yuanqing failed to catch the meaningful looks from his teammates. Carrying the yellow gourd, he stepped before the body of the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter, which remained encased and protected by vines.
Ever since advancing to Day Wanderer, his spirit body had grown formidable, granting him an eidetic memory. Anything he saw once was imprinted in his mind like a printout.
There was no need to trigger his headache to rewind time.
Zhang Yuanqing set down the yellow gourd, spread his arms with palms facing the sky, and suddenly began shaking all over like an epileptic patient having a seizure. Then the style shifted abruptly: he gently swayed his waist and hips, his arms undulating like serpents.
A moment later, his twisting waist stiffened, his hips locked in place, muscles rippling across his limbs as the dance turned vigorous and forceful, each sweep of his arms and pivot of his body stirring up gusts of wind.
Thirty seconds passed in a flash. Zhang Yuanqing stopped, without chanting the phrase: *Please turn, treasure!*
A powerful vortex formed at the mouth of the yellow gourd. At the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter's severed neck, a faint streak of white light slipped out and returned into the gourd.
*Clap, clap, clap!*
Commandery Princess Yinyao took the lead in applauding.
With three heads and eight arms, Heavenly King Demonic Eye clapped the most vigorously, his expression dripping with amusement.
Fu Qingyang and Xiahou Aotian quietly scratched the Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger from their minds. The proud Money Prince would never allow himself to become a comic relief, while Xiahou Aotian felt that the style of the sacrificial dance was entirely unfitting for a protagonist.
Using it recklessly would risk demoting him from main character to a funny male sidekick.
*I really want to kill them all...* Veins bulged on Zhang Yuanqing's forehead. The emotions he had barely managed to calm were once again teetering on the brink of losing control.
Reading the room, Commandery Princess Yinyao tactfully ceased her applause, lifted the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter's head, and joined it to the severed stump.
Once the seal was lifted, the flesh at the bloody neck writhed, blood vessels extending and reconnecting rapidly. In less than ten seconds, the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter opened her eyes, her gaze dazed, as if she had merely awakened from a deep sleep.
"What happened?" She looked at Zhang Yuanqing.
Her cold "nephew" picked up the yellow gourd and strode toward the ruins billowing with black smoke.
By the time Zhang Yuanqing had finished dancing two more sacrificial dances and retrieved the soul fragments sealed within his yin corpses, the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter had already learned from Commandery Princess Yinyao what had transpired after her decapitation.
Since Zhang Yuanqing was in terrible condition, the team retreated outside the mountain gate to rest and recover.
Xiahou Aotian threw himself thirstily into studying the yellow gourd. Donning a monocle, he summoned Samadhi True Fire along with several high-tech gadgets, breaking down the materials, components, and types of spiritual energy within the Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger.
Zhang Yuanqing rested his head on the Palace Master of Halting Slaughter's lap, listening to her softly hum a lullaby, and fell fast asleep.
When he woke, two hours had already passed. The sun hung high in the center of the sky; the time was eleven in the morning.
Aside from some lingering volatility and irritability, the fractured consciousness, uncontrollable hallucinations, and inability to think calmly had all disappeared.
As for the minor issues that remained, he could easily dissolve them as an Illusionist.
However, the problems accumulated in the depths of his spirit would require time to wear away bit by bit. That was the inevitable price of Spirit Devouring.
"I'm about good!" Zhang Yuanqing yawned. "Let's keep going!"
Fu Qingyang and the others naturally had no objections. Only Xiahou Aotian remained absorbed in the gourd, deaf to everything around him.
Zhang Yuanqing kicked him. "What have you figured out?"
Xiahou Aotian frowned.
"According to my research, it truly belongs to the Cucurbitaceae family and the genus *Lagenaria*, rather than being forged into the shape of a gourd. What's strange is that despite being a gourd, it contains an abundance of metallic spiritual energy, rendering it invulnerable to blades, spears, water, and fire.
"The metallic spiritual energy inside the gourd is even more outrageous, which is what gave birth to that thread of fine light. It feels to me like... well, like the gourd vine was nurtured by metallic spiritual energy as it grew, flowered, and bore fruit.
"But as an artificer, the first thing one must master is the elemental affinities and counter-affinities between materials and spiritual energy, refining items according to the properties of those materials. In the Five Elements, Metal overcomes Wood, and Wood withers upon touching Metal. Therefore, it should be impossible for a gourd vine to grow fed on metallic spiritual energy."
At this point, he pointed at the yellow gourd and spread his hands. "This thing somewhat overthrows my understanding."
Zhang Yuanqing snatched the yellow gourd away and said, "If you can't figure it out, stop dwelling on it. Let's keep pushing through the dungeon."
The group entered the mountain gate, crossed the area where Yaoguang Hall stood, and halted before ten stone steps leading to the second tier. Looking ahead, on either side of the central plaza stood a golden-roofed hall to the left, and pavilions and living quarters to the right.
—The South Courtyard was laid out in a three-tiered terrace.
Compared to Yaoguang Hall, the second tier had extensive quarters, presumably the living quarters for disciples.
As usual, Xiahou Aotian brought out a drone, sending it flying over the steps into the second tier.
The group tracked the drone with their eyes, watching it fly across the steps. The moment it did, it seemed to pass through an invisible membrane and vanished from sight.
The next second, Xiahou Aotian detached the neural interface cable, frowning. "The drone lost connection. I can't see any footage."
*This...* Zhang Yuanqing looked toward the second tier, which appeared clear, overgrown with weeds, and filled with an aura of decay. The drone had clearly flown past, yet it was nowhere in sight.
The scene before their eyes felt like a phantom image, not the true second tier.
A clear, brilliant white light surfaced in Fu Qingyang's eyes. His gaze was sharp as a blade as he stared ahead.
"It's an illusion!" Fu Qingyang retracted his gaze and said, "This area is shrouded in an illusion. I cannot see through it."
"Even you can't see through it?" Heavenly King Demonic Eye furrowed his brow.
Zhang Yuanqing remarked, "The illusion is secondary. The main issue is the black smoke. The black smoke possesses the power of concealment, which is why the Boss can't see through it. Just like earlier in Yaoguang Hall—even though we touched the statue and the gourd, we couldn't read the item information because it was concealed."
He looked toward his teammates. "Illusions are my home turf. I'll scout it out."
With a nod from Fu Qingyang and the others, he summoned a yin corpse, directing it to mount the steps, pass through the invisible membrane, and vanish from everyone's view.
Chapter 899