At the exact moment Feng Wuming self-detonated his life-bound gu, a corner of the wooden hut in the mountain hollow quietly shifted. A quaint, antique wooden box silently opened.
A blood-colored worm, as thick as a thumb and coated in viscous mucus, dragged its bloated body out of the box. It cautiously scanned its surroundings with beady eyes no larger than black sesame seeds. After confirming its direction, it began crawling toward the door.
At first, its movements were sluggish, like a toddler just learning to walk. But it quickly adapted, and its speed multiplied several times over.
In less than a quarter of an hour, it had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only a slimy, revolting trail across the ground…
At the center of the mountain hollow stood a towering three-story wooden pagoda, the heart of the Ling Clan. Over a hundred cultivators of the clan trained within its walls.
At that moment, the blood-red worm slowly climbed the pagoda's steps. The defensive array offered no resistance, and even the two early-stage Qi Refining cultivators stationed at the entrance remained completely unaware.
The worm slipped inside the tower with ease.
The first floor was filled with the clan's younger cultivators, seated cross-legged on meditation mats, listening to an elderly, white-haired man giving a lecture. Some were nodding off, others were distracted and looking around, yet none noticed the thumb-thick worm moving among them.
The worm raised its head and slithered through the gaps between the mats, its gaze scanning each of the young cultivators like it was browsing through clothes in a store.
But it found no suitable target among them; their bodies were far too weak.
It continued up the stairs to the second floor, where the cultivators were older and mostly at the mid-to-late Qi Refining stage. Still, none of them met its criteria.
Finally, it ascended to the top floor, the third level, which was reserved for only one person in the entire Ling Clan: the clan leader, Ling Duanhe.
Ling Duanhe, nearing seventy, wore a grey Daoist robe and sat cross-legged at the center of a Taiji diagram. His breathing was deep and rhythmic, his posture rooted in meditation, exuding a profound tranquility.
Though the Taiji diagram beneath him was inanimate, it seemed to come alive with each breath, its black and white halves shifting subtly, like two fish swimming in endless pursuit around Ling Duanhe.
The blood-colored worm stared in fascination, a glint of unmistakable greed flickering in its eyes.
Ling Duanhe was completely immersed in the mystical rhythms of the Taiji diagram and had no awareness of the danger rapidly approaching him.
Buzz…
The instant the worm came near, it was like a stone dropped into a still pond. Ripples spread across the Taiji diagram, and eight faint symbols appeared around it, faintly forming a full Bagua array.
Startled, Ling Duanhe snapped out of his meditation. The moment he opened his eyes, a flash of crimson darted toward him at lightning speed.
Rip!
His robe and flesh were instantly torn, and he felt something burrow into his body, rapidly crawling upward.
Horrified, Ling Duanhe immediately activated his spiritual power to expel the invader. The Bagua diagram lit up brilliantly, feeding him a constant stream of energy.
Under this surge of spiritual power, the worm's ascent was temporarily halted.
But just as Ling Duanhe began to relax, a sharp pain stabbed through his chest. The spiritual power he had gathered scattered like smoke in the wind.
The blood-colored worm seized the opportunity and darted directly into his sea of consciousness.
"AHHH!"
The pain of having his spiritual sea invaded made Ling Duanhe scream in agony. His mind felt like it was being pierced by ten thousand needles.
"Y-You… what are you?"
A chilling voice echoed in his mind, sending shivers down his spine. The voice was all too familiar.
"Heh heh heh… I was planning to wait until you broke through to Foundation Establishment before doing this. But thanks to that bastard Song Changsheng, I had no choice but to move up the timetable."
The cold words made Ling Duanhe's blood run cold.
"It's… you?! What are you trying to do?! Xue'er took you in out of kindness, and now you repay her with betrayal?!"
Ling Duanhe's eyes bulged with fury, his voice trembling with rage.
"Heh… I should thank that lovely girl. When I was being hunted and gravely injured, if not for her, I might have died out there.
Originally, I planned to leave after recovering… but who would've thought that a mere Qi Refining clan would possess such a treasure?
Haven't you heard the saying 'A man is guilty not for the crime, but for possessing a treasure'? This kind of item is far beyond what ants like the Ling Clan should have."
"Feng Wuming… So it is you! I was blind to ever trust you!"
Regret overwhelmed Ling Duanhe. Three years ago, his granddaughter Ling Xue had "picked up" Feng Wuming outside the mountain hollow and brought him home, a decision he now saw as a grave mistake.
This man had always given off a sinister, cold aura that Ling Duanhe found deeply unsettling. However, he had ultimately relented under Ling Xue's persistent pleading and begrudgingly agreed to take him in.
Over the past few years, although the man's behavior remained odd and eccentric, he had never once broken any rules. Ling Duanhe, preoccupied with using the mystical treasure they had stumbled upon to break through to Foundation Establishment, gradually let his guard down and stopped paying attention to him.
Who could've predicted that a single lapse in judgment would bring such catastrophic consequences?
"You… What are you trying to do? The Ling Clan is under the Rong Clan's protection. If you dare act recklessly, the Rong Clan's elders will never forgive you!" With no better option, Ling Duanhe tried to buy time by threatening him while desperately thinking of a countermeasure.
To his dismay, Feng Wuming let out a mocking laugh. "You think too highly of yourself. In the eyes of the Rong Clan, your Ling Clan is no more significant than a grasshopper. Do you believe they'd care about you?
Save your strength. Just obediently give up your body. That way, you'll suffer less."
"You're trying to possess me?" Ling Duanhe's expression changed drastically. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he gathered his spiritual power again, attempting to force the invader out but to no avail.
"Hmph! If I had a better option, a measly Qi Refining cultivator like you wouldn't even be qualified to carry my shoes, and yet you dare resist? Then don't blame me for being ruthless."
Feng Wuming's tone turned ice-cold as he began forcibly taking over Ling Duanhe's body.
Instantly, it felt as if countless ants were gnawing at Ling Duanhe's soul. The searing pain nearly shattered his consciousness.
Thankfully, the Taiji diagram beneath him continued emitting spiritual energy that kept his soul anchored, allowing him to retain a sliver of clarity amidst the agony.
Ling Duanhe knew that if this continued, it was only a matter of time before he was completely overtaken by something he could never allow.
Determination flashed in his eyes. He forcefully activated his spiritual energy, attempting to destroy his dantian and meridians. If he succeeded, even if Feng Wuming succeeded in possessing him, he would be left with a crippled body.
Unfortunately, Qi Refining cultivators could not self-detonate. Otherwise, he would've chosen that more decisive path without hesitation.
Feng Wuming quickly realized what Ling Duanhe was trying to do, but he didn't panic. Instead, he sneered and said:
"Do you know why I didn't just seize that treasure outright? It's because I needed your Ling Clan to help me advance further.
Over the past three years, every single one of your clan members has been unknowingly implanted with my gu worms. You think a slave can defy his master? Laughable!"
The moment he finished speaking, Ling Duanhe was horrified to discover he could no longer control his own body.
"You beast… You monster! I curse you, may you die a miserable death… AHHH!"
With a final scream of anguish, Ling Duanhe's head drooped lifelessly, his body falling still. The radiant glow of the Taiji diagram beneath him dimmed to nothing.
Moments later, his head slowly lifted again, this time bearing a chilling smile.
He stood up and moved his limbs around to test his new vessel. Then, filled with venom, he muttered:
"Song Changsheng… you destroyed my original body. This grudge is irreconcilable. I'll make sure you live a life worse than death!"
His eyes then drifted downward to the Taiji diagram beneath his feet, burning with greed.
"My precious… I've finally claimed you."
Reaching out, he carefully put away the Taiji diagram. Then, Ling Duanhe said," No, Feng Wuming ascended to the top of the wooden pagoda through a hidden passage.
From this vantage point, the entire Ling Clan's compound was laid out before him.
"This body is still too weak… I can't even fly on a sword. But it doesn't matter, it's finally time to reap the harvest."
Feng Wuming stretched out both arms, as if embracing the entire world. Then, with a crazed expression, he roared:
"Three-Turn Blood Spirit Gu!"
The instant his voice echoed through the air, every member of the Ling Clan felt an unbearable itch deep in their chest as if something were clawing from within.
Before they could even figure out what was happening, dark, blackish blood began oozing from their seven orifices, first the children, then the elderly, and finally the able-bodied adults.
Panic erupted like wildfire. Chaos engulfed the Ling Clan.
In the confusion, some fell suddenly to the ground. From their open mouths crawled blood-red centipedes, each as thick as a pair of chopsticks.
Their collapse triggered a terrifying chain reaction.
More and more people collapsed in pools of dark blood throughout the mountain hollow. In the end, not a single soul remained standing.
The black blood that flowed from their bodies soaked into the soil, eventually forming a small stream.
Beside that stream, another grotesque current was forming a river of blood-red centipedes, their numbers so vast that just one glance would make your scalp tingle.
All of them moved with singular purpose toward the wooden pagoda.
Watching the once-thriving mountain hollow turn into a hellish slaughterhouse by his hand, Feng Wuming's face showed a twisted expression of bliss. It had been so long since he'd unleashed his full power like this; how nostalgic it felt.
A bizarre orb of light materialized in front of him, and the centipedes poured into it like water through a drain.
When the last centipede vanished inside, the orb's glow began to fade, revealing a fist-sized fleshy tumor.
With a piercing shriek, the tumor split open. A pitch-black centipede, no more than an inch long, dropped out of it.
Feng Wuming bent down, picked it up gently, and then, with a crazed gleam in his eyes, popped it into his mouth.
The next moment, his aura surged wildly…
Outside the mountain hollow, Wu Yan lay flat atop a nearby ridge. Having witnessed everything with his own eyes, he clutched his mouth in horror.
That silhouette atop the wooden pagoda, he recognized it. During his last visit for a trade, that very person had personally greeted him.
It was the same face. But Wu Yan was certain that wasn't the same person anymore!
"That senior went in… but never came out. Could he already be…"
Wu Yan's heart pounded with terror. He wanted to flee, but feared drawing attention. All he could do was suppress his breath and tremble where he lay, pressing himself tightly against the ground.
...
On the other side, Song Changsheng was rushing back at full speed.
By the time he arrived, however, it was already too late. At just a single glance, Song Changsheng nearly blacked out and fell off his flying sword.
The once-thriving mountain valley had become eerily lifeless. Countless corpses, stained with blackened blood, were scattered across the ground, their faces still twisted in fear and agony.
The overwhelming aura of blood and death was suffocating.
Song Changsheng's body trembled slightly; seventy to eighty thousand people were all wiped out in such a short period. Not a single survivor.
How innocent the mortals were…
A raging inferno of fury instantly consumed him. Staring at the figure standing atop the wooden tower, the killing intent in his heart surged to an all-time high.
He had never wanted someone dead so badly.
"Late-stage Foundation Establishment… So that's the confidence you have for staying behind?" Song Changsheng stared at Feng Wuming with a cold, expressionless face like a volcano on the verge of erupting.
Feng Wuming returned his gaze without fear, mocking him with a sneer.
"You know," he said, "if not for you, they might've lived a little longer."
"You used a life-bound parasite to stage your little 'gold cicada shedding its shell' act. If I were you, I would've taken that chance to flee as far as possible. That way, maybe you could've survived like a dog."
"But no, you stayed. Do you think that the power you gained through crooked methods can stand against me? What gave you that illusion?"
Looking down at Feng Wuming from above, Song Changsheng's tone was eerily calm, devoid of arrogance, as though he were the true peak Foundation Establishment cultivator.
"Heh… Song Changsheng, you are arrogant."
"I spent three years setting this place up just to refine the Nine-Turn Blood Spirit Gu and use it to break through to the Purple Mansion Realm. But because of you, I had to harvest it early, and now I'll have to start all over again."
"First, you had someone injure me severely, then you destroyed my physical body. Now you've cut off my path to ascension. Song Changsheng, you must die today!" Feng Wuming roared, his eyes bloodshot.
"Then come and try."
Song Changsheng slowly raised his right hand, a dangerous aura radiating from his body. A phantom seal emerged in his palm, and with a flip of his hand, he pressed it down toward Feng Wuming.
He had no intention of wasting another second on this man.
"Minor Divine Power: Mountain-Flipping Seal!"
Watching the massive seal descend from the sky, Feng Wuming, even after breaking through to late Foundation Establishment, still felt an overwhelming pressure that made it hard to breathe.
He had already tried to overestimate Song Changsheng's strength, but Song continued to shatter his expectations with every move.
If this were before, he would've already fled in panic. But since he dared to remain, he had a trump card.
With a wave of his sleeve, a Taiji diagram slowly unfurled above his head, emitting a soft, radiant glow.
When the giant seal collided with the Taiji diagram, a deafening boom erupted, like thunder out of a clear sky.
Song Changsheng was nearly blown away by the shockwave. After regaining his balance, he narrowed his eyes.
The minor divine power had been blocked by the Taiji diagram.
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