Near the royal tomb, it was the Zhongyuan Festival—the Ghost Festival—a day when yin qi reached its very peak.
The Hundred Ghosts Marching Formation activated with sudden ferocity!
Zhang Laosan leaned against a tombstone belonging to one of the fallen members of the Renmao Sect, holding his breath and suppressing his qi as he stared into the tomb pit with abject dread.
The Renmao Sect's former earthen-den encampment had long since been overtaken by the dark yin ghost wind and Soul-Eroding Cold Evil. From the depths of the great tomb rolled wave after wave of terrifying, suffocating qi.
The moment the formation came to life, Zhang Laosan felt a sudden heaviness press down on his shoulders, as though something were perched on his back.
At the same time, an exotic wine fragrance drifted into his nostrils.
Lightheaded and dizzy, he bit down hard on the tip of his tongue and channeled the Mount Tong Corpse Refining Grand Art, only then regaining his senses.
Yet that bizarre scent of wine continued to linger, refusing to disperse.
Beside him, Sect Master Feng, Qiu Bailu of the Renmao Sect, and the old man Zuo Wei—who had shouted out to the factions of Pingyuan Commandery—all smelled the wine as well.
Looking into the depths of the tomb, their hearts went utterly numb with fright.
"Sect Master Feng, this royal tomb... is perilous beyond measure," Zhang Laosan sent via sound transmission to Feng Wen.
He felt intensely uneasy, like standing on the brittle edge of a den of ghosts where he could plunge at any moment to be devoured by tens of thousands of spirits.
Feng Wen replied via transmission, "Don't panic. We aren't going inside. My Sect Master Senior Brother is already on his way. Once he arrives, we'll seize that brat amid the chaos, and then it won't be too late to make our retreat."
Even as they spoke, streams of grayish-white mist shot into the heavens!
The mist was so dense it was nearly solid, piercing straight into the dark clouds in the sky. Countless yin spirits darted and swarmed within, scattering like bees exploding from an overturned hive.
*Hiss, hiss—!*
Strange sounds screeched from the tomb, and Zhang Laosan knew that the big things were finally emerging!
Guided by the Hundred Ghosts Marching Formation, a fissure tore open in the Pingyuan King's tomb. Shrill screeches echoed across the wilderness, heard clearly by everyone inside and outside the formation.
A gray silhouette, accompanied by the flapping of wings, rocketed straight into the clouds from the tomb.
The creature had a hideous, ferocious face with a fleshy nodule atop its head. Its upper body was completely bare, nothing more than skin and bones, as if covered by only a thin layer of bluish-green hide.
Its arms were extraordinarily long, its ten fingers withered like dried twigs, yet its claws were a full three inches.
A pair of massive, fleshy wings grew from its back, spanning a full twenty feet when spread open, the membranes crisscrossed with web-like black blood vessels.
"That's a yaksha!"
Voices cried out in alarm from afar. Ancient ghosts like yakshas were notorious creatures of the ghostly way, usually haunting only places near the Nine Nethers Netherworld or the Huangquan River of the nether caves. Once one fully formed, it possessed the cultivation of at least Foundation Building.
Moreover, it fed on flesh and blood, constantly bolstering its ghost-path cultivation while advancing its intelligence.
Beneath the royal tomb lay both Soul-Eroding Cold Evil and the dark yin ghost wind. Born in such an environment, the yaksha was naturally capable of resisting the evil qi. Even a Core Formation cultivator would have to expend considerable effort to capture one.
Once the first yaksha appeared, a second, a third, and more followed in close succession.
The Hundred Ghosts Marching Formation continued to exert its power. By the time the seventh yaksha emerged, three powerful yakshas capable of manipulating evil qi burst from the fissure in the tomb.
Lured beyond the Wood Demon Spirit Formation, these yakshas roared to the heavens.
They plunged into the dark clouds above, the vast majority hurtling toward the commandery seat where blood and vital energy were at their strongest!
Some of the yakshas were struck down by treasures wielded by those outside the formation, but others broke through and flew onward. No one could tell how many more of these ancient ghosts remained in the tomb.
The cultivators from the smaller local factions had already lost their footing in panic.
Daoist Wu's voice projected into the formation, "In a tomb capable of nurturing so many ancient ghosts, do you really not fear facing a backlash after stirring up such an uproar?"
Commander Xu from Prison City barked in anger, "If you trigger a nether catastrophe and bring calamity upon the entire commandery, do you comprehend the consequences?!"
"Hahaha!"
"You think a few empty threats will scare this old man?"
Zuo Wei laughed from within the formation. "This isn't our sect's Dao sanctum; if anything happens, it's not my problem to clean up. If you want to cause trouble, break through the formation first! If you aren't satisfied with that, feel free to head to Nanshanbuzhou—our Sect Master will gladly await your arrival at Chaosheng Pool!"
Zuo Wei spoke lightly, but after spending years in the Huanyin Sect, how could he fail to recognize the danger of the royal tomb?
It was just that the grand formation had already been unleashed, and stopping it was no easy task.
Staring into the tomb pit, his age spots bunching up on his wrinkled face, he instructed, "Aside from luring out the yakshas, make no further moves!"
His voice echoed in the ears of everyone within the formation. Qiu Bailu of the Renmao Sect was about to speak when he caught another whiff of the scent of wine.
The Hundred Ghosts Marching Formation shuddered as the disciples maintaining it channeled their power with all their might.
Following the flow of the formation, another ten yakshas surged out in rapid succession!
The clash of techniques outside grew fiercer by the second, some attempting to break the formation while others intercepted and slaughtered the ancient yaksha ghosts.
Yet whether they were setting the formation or trying to break it, everyone had vastly underestimated this royal tomb that had slumbered for so long.
The dark clouds in the sky grew thicker and broader. By noon, an area spanning seventy to eighty li was completely smothered under the dark canopy.
Daylight turned almost entirely to darkness!
Now, not only was Pingyuan Commandery thrown into turmoil, but great factions across Yunzhou Prefecture and neighboring Qingzhou Prefecture also took notice of the disturbance.
Some saw chaos, while others saw opportunity.
The boldest of the first Qi Refiners to notice began converging on Pingyuan Commandery City.
Inside the Records Hall of Yuansong Temple, Supervisor Qian received Daoist Wu's dispatch and sent urgent reports straight up to Guanjiang Mountain!
***
The ghost winds swept across the entire commandery city, brushing over Jinghu Manor.
The dark yin ghost wind could not penetrate the manor, but the dramatic shift in the weather overhead was not lost on Qin Xuan, meditating inside the boiler room, who vaguely sensed something unusual.
At that moment, he was looking inward at his Flowery Pool.
Over the past few days, he had refined all his spirit metal ores into Metal Spirit Origin Qi, and then used the Elixir Dew Flying Transformation Scripture to transform that origin qi into elixir dew to nourish his Dao lotus.
Neither of these arts could be considered top-tier secret arts of the great sects, falling well short of texts like the Red Sandalwood Casket Scripture or the Holy Spirit Demon Scripture.
Yet in Qin Xuan's hands, the synergy of the two produced cultivation gains that were visible to the naked eye.
In particular, after refining that piece of five elements metal crystal into origin qi and converting it into golden elixir dew, the third lotus leaf had emerged directly from the spirit spring. In an instant, it resonated with the world, and his dharmic power leaped noticeably.
The fiend in his Taiyin aperture had also gorged itself on the delusions brought by this rapid surge in power.
As a result, Qin Xuan remained anchored in tranquil oblivion, keeping his mental platform serene and clear.
What seemed like an aggressive method of cultivation was actually far steadier than that of most methodical Qi Refiners.
A few consecutive days had yielded results that might take many Foundation Building cultivators several years of painstaking effort.
Qin Xuan exhaled a long breath. The deep-sea yin charcoal in the cauldron before him had already burned out, his ores were depleted, and a hollow feeling of loss washed over him, as though the wealth he had hoarded for so long had been wiped clean in an instant.
He had little desire right now to join some great faction.
All he wanted was to make a massive fortune.
This bout of cultivation in the boiler room had proven once again that the mutual conversion of these techniques, coupled with the fiend from the Taiyin Illusory Soul Art to absorb his mental backlash, formed a flawless closed loop.
He checked his bag of myriad treasures and confirmed that not a single yin spirit jar was left.
The Xieling Sect's yin spirit jars were gathered by their members over a great deal of time, and they had specialized arts for it. He did not fancy himself more professional at capturing yin spirits than they were.
Qin Xuan stroked his chin and fell into thought. *If all else fails, I'll just write another IOU to that fox grandfather.*
*Owing a hundred and twenty taels is still owing, and owing a thousand isn't any different, is it?*
The smiling face of the fox girl rose in his mind, and he found himself genuinely missing Mei'er. Perhaps Mei'er could put in a good word for him, bolster his credibility, and help him borrow a few more ores.
Just as his thoughts drifted, Qin Xuan froze slightly. He suddenly felt...
A strange stir coming from the fiend in his Taiyin aperture...
Chapter 82