novelraw Chapter 315 - 288: Black Snake
Chapter 315 - 288: Black Snake
The crimson fire blazed in the fields, piles of straw crackling loudly in the blaze. Under the pitch-black night, blood-colored flames burned; the deserted village was unnervingly silent, with dark blood quietly flowing across the ground.
At the center stood a pitch-black Stone Platform, densely carved with dark red Incantation Script. Many men and women knelt upon it, all draped in Taoist Robes, their throats pierced by sharp Magic Artifacts, collapsing upon that Sacrificial Altar.
The gloomy wind howled and whined; all about, nine neat piles of bones lay, some large, some small, most fragmented. In the center, a black-robed Cultivator sat cross-legged, eyes closed in deep concentration.
This man suddenly opened his eyes. Dharma Light flickered within their depths, his skin was dusky, hair loose—astonishingly, he turned out to be a Shanyue. He stood, humming a tune, picked up the black gourd in his hand, glanced at the moon, and murmured softly:
"The moon is at its zenith, Yin Energy at its strongest—excellent."
He gently lifted the black gourd in his hand, its surface covered with countless Talisman Script, each lighting up with a blood-red glow. He gave it a subtle shake as mana swirled in hand, shouting:
"Collect!"
From the piles of bones rose waves of black mist and blood energy, shrill and miserable howls bursting forth. They wove together in the air, like threads and wisps, like returning swallows, flying toward the Sacrificial Altar and diving into the small mouth of the gourd.
"Excellent, excellent."
The black-robed Cultivator waited for an hour before all the resentment and blood energy was finally collected. The bones around became wizened and withered, cracking with brittle pops. The blood-red glow on the gourd grew ever more intense before he finally stopped, satisfied, and murmured:
"Over three thousand people, six Fetal Breathing Qi Cultivators—the goods this time should satisfy the Sect Master!"
The black-robed Cultivator smiled with satisfaction, glanced at the ground, considered a moment, and cast a spell. The blood upon the earth began to stir, swiftly coalescing into several large words:
"The killer is Jiang Yan."
He examined his masterpiece closely, squeezing out a laugh from his throat, the black robe fluttering despite the windlessness, and tutted:
"Sect Master’s scheme, truly flawless!"
As the Cultivator tutted in wonder, he had no idea that a dreary voice rose at his side:
"It truly is a fine scheme!"
"Who’s there!"
He abruptly looked up to find, at his side, the face of a youth emerging, smiling ambiguously, eyes fixed intently on him, lips crimson, sneering:
"Chi Zhiyun’s calculations are truly fine. The resentment and blood energy are harvested by your Green Pond Sect, and the infamy falls upon me, Jiang Yan?"
"Jiang Yan!"
The man’s soul nearly leapt from his body. He blurted in shock:
"You...weren’t you in Linghai County!"
He recovered instantly, Dharma Light flashing in his eyes, blood energy pouring from his body, rising on a gust of wind, turning to flee.
"So that’s why so many Devil Cultivators have suddenly appeared—turns out it’s you Qing Chi Demon Sect who are betraying your own lot!"
Jiang Yan sneered coldly. With a tug of his hand, just as the man rose in the air, he crashed with a thud to the ground. But after all, he was a Foundation Establishment Cultivator; he stomped heavily on the earth and reached to his waist for a long whip.
Jiang Yan formed a spell with his left hand, pointed with his right. The man’s robe twisted grotesquely, and the long whip at his waist shuddered—its Talisman Script transformed into overlapping scales, standing menacingly upright. The entire whip came alive, becoming a pitch-black, ugly serpent, hissing as it lunged to bite his hand.
"What spell is this!"
The man paled in terror, hastily formed a spell in his hand, and slapped the serpent away. Just as he barely reacted, the nine heaps of bones around began to writhe and seethe, linking together—combining into a massive bony hand, descending like a storm to seize him.
"Foundation Establishment Cultivator still using a Qi Cultivation Magic Artifact!"
Jiang Yan sneered icily. The black-robed Cultivator gathered a blood-red spell, blasting a huge hole with both palms through the giant hand, then, amid the rain of falling bones, leapt up, hurling them headlong at Jiang Yan’s face.
The youth lifted his gaze, exhaled a mouthful of black mist deeply, received the Cultivator’s spell, and even had time to smile brightly:
"Master, what level is this one’s Immortal Foundation?"
From within the black mist, the ominous black serpent slithered out, flicking its tongue, and replied with a weathered voice:
"Drinker of human blood... He was once from Duanmu Kui’s Witch Mountain, but defected to the Green Pond Sect."
Seeing Jiang Yan call the transformed black serpent ’Master,’ the black-robed Cultivator felt a chill pierce his heart, murmuring shakily:
"Jiang... Jiang Boqing... how can it be! You weren’t captured by the Yin Si.. . how is this possible!"
The black serpent chuckled, as blood and bones swirled like a whirlwind, abruptly erupting into countless tiny hands lunging for the Cultivator’s face. The serpent let out a slick hiss, laughing:
"I never cultivated Zifu Golden Core—my name’s not on the register, what’s there for them to seize!"
The Cultivator could no longer speak clearly. As Jiang Yan below chanted his spell, the blood and bone onslaught surged more fiercely; he was battered and disheveled, secretly breathing a sigh of relief:
"Luckily I collected the blood and resentment first, or else this spell would be much more powerful!"
Looking up, the black serpent had vanished. The Cultivator’s heart skipped a beat; his Spiritual Sense swept the surroundings, and he called out respectfully:
"Master Jiang, our lineages are similar, both birthed from Immortal Talisman Incantations...I have long admired you..."
He was still begging for mercy when a cold, eerie voice whispered in his ear:
"Where is the Secret Method from ’Answers to the Beggar Beneath the Mulberry Tree’?"
"I... I don’t know!"
At the mention of "Answers to the Beggar Beneath the Mulberry Tree," terror nearly overflowed from his face. He quavered:
"Not just the Three Sects and Seven Doors’ Zifu... even the Lu Shui..."
"Silence!"
The black serpent’s scales bristled, both eyes bulging as it cursed:
"You dare even speak the name? Are you insane—this isn’t Duanmu Kui’s Witch Mountain... You dare utter that name on Qing Chi Demon Sect territory?"
"Yes, yes!"
The Cultivator stammered, hurriedly answering:
"Even...even the Perfected Lords personally visited Witch Mountain, and truly, it was nowhere to be found! If I say a single false word, may I be struck by the Five Thunders, never to reincarnate!"
"Hahahahahaha... you are clever indeed."
The black serpent’s voice carried a snake’s hiss, chillingly sinister:
"In these times, what use is a vow! Since the Perfected Lords all gathered there, could they not divine by fate, or Soul Search by force?"
The Cultivator’s Immortal Foundation surged, barely withstanding the relentless assault of bones; his bloodshot eyes bulged, veins standing out, as he stammered:
"Do not try to trick me, Senior... Duanmu Kui met an Immortal—his fate is a total mess! Even if there was a weakness, who would dare attempt it? The grace of an Immortal is as vast as the sea, their might as crushing as a prison—even the Perfected Lords wouldn’t dare probe!"
"As for Soul Search... Duanmu Kui failed his breakthrough, and became a locust shade ghost—what soul is there to search!"
The black serpent fell instantly silent, its voice filled with unwillingness as it hissed:
"You’ve trained on Witch Mountain for years—have you ever seen this Secret Method?"
"Never..."
The serpent said no more. Knowing Jiang Boqing’s killing intent was aroused, the Cultivator silently cursed his luck. Yet Jiang Yan’s Corpse Bone Spell bound him tight, leaving escape impossible; he could only grit his teeth and shout:
"I beseech the High Xuan Ming Righteous Talisman, here lies a fiendish ghostly cultivator, flesh and blood in disarray, blocking my path... I invoke the Xuan Ming Righteous Method..."
The Witchcraft Incantations weren’t finished when the black serpent laughed aloud, and like lightning, struck at his throat. Its voice echoed in midair:
"Who will you invoke!"