Chapter 95: The Only Goal is a Long Life and Ascension

“It’s not that simple,” Pu Hanzhong explained.

“That dispelling art is only for the illusion formation. And its incantation changes every hour, shifting with the complex cycles of the heavens and the earth.” He spoke with a look of reverence, and Qin Haoxuan listened with awe.

He knew setting up a single formation was difficult; for the sect’s founders to have woven three distinct types—attack, defense, and auxiliary—into one cohesive whole was a feat of unimaginable wisdom and power.

“And don’t look down on auxiliary formations,” Pu continued, snapping out of his reverie.

“They are a profound field of study. The spirit fire formation in an alchemy furnace, the spirit infusion formation used in artifact forging—these are all auxiliary formations. In terms of practical value, they are far more useful than the other two types.”

“The auxiliary formation I’m going to teach you today is a summoning formation.” He took out several yellow talisman papers and arranged them in a pattern on the ground.

Forming a hand seal and chanting an incantation, he channeled his spiritual energy, and the talismans on the ground began to glow in response.

After thirty seconds, his energy reached a peak. He stomped his foot, and the talismans burst into flames, burning a bowl-sized black hole in the fabric of space.

The moment the hole appeared, a bone-chilling cold emanated from within. It felt similar to the pressure in the Immortal-Slaying Poison Valley, though not as lethal.

Still, it startled Qin Haoxuan, and he took several steps back, only calming down when he saw his senior brother’s composed expression.

“This black hole,” Pu explained, “connects to the Netherworld through a rift in spacetime. The Netherworld is an ancient, mysterious dimension. It was once separate from our own, but the great war between immortals and demons was so intense that it tore a rift between the worlds. Now, powerful nether-creatures sometimes find their way through to hunt us cultivators, as our lifeblood is a great tonic for them. I’ve even heard of a Dao Fruit Realm expert who was ambushed and devoured by them.”

He continued, a look of regret on his face, “The rift has now become a permanent battlefield. The nether-creatures want to invade our world, and we, of course, cannot allow it. So the great sects constantly organize teams of powerful cultivators to enter the rift and fight them, hoping to one day seal it for good.”

He coughed. “Unfortunately, my cultivation is too low. I’ve never had the chance to contribute.”

Sensing his senior brother’s recurring melancholy, Qin Haoxuan was about to offer a word of comfort, but Pu quickly composed himself. “On your cultivation path, you will face all manner of enemies. Gaining combat experience is vital. I will summon some low-level Nether-Souls for you to practice on.”

He pointed to a wisp of black mist emerging from the hole. “That is a Nether-Soul, the lowest form of life in the Netherworld. It’s a mindless soul-body that only knows how to kill. But don’t underestimate it. It’s immune to physical attacks. Watch.”

Pu Hanzhong gathered spiritual energy in his hand, forming it into the shape of a blade. “This is the most basic Hand-Blade Art. Now that you’ve sprouted, you are no longer a mortal. You can do this too.” Just as he gathered his power, he was wracked by another coughing fit. “It’s an old ailment, nothing to worry about,” he said, waving off Qin Haoxuan’s concern. “Now watch closely.”

He moved swiftly toward the black mist. The Nether-Soul, sensing the life force of a living creature, lunged at him. Pu’s hand, glowing with spiritual light, sliced through the mist, cutting off a small piece that instantly dissipated.

The rest of the creature, feeling no pain, lunged again. Pu retreated, his hand a blur as he methodically sliced away at the black mist until only a fist-sized, dark, fleshy core remained.

“Well now,” he said, surprised. “It seems this one has devoured a few of its own kind. It’s starting to form a physical body.”

The creature, though mindless, instinctively feared the man who was hurting it and tried to retreat into the black hole. But Pu was too fast. He lunged and plunged his hand-blade deep into its core, killing it instantly.

It dissolved into a pool of stinking black liquid. He then used a fire talisman to purify the remains, and as the creature died, the portal to the Netherworld vanished.

“Watching isn’t enough,” he said, handing some talismans to Qin Haoxuan. “Now you try.”

Qin Haoxuan carefully arranged the talismans and began the incantation. It had looked so easy when Pu had done it, but he soon found that coordinating the hand seals, the incantation, and the flow of his spiritual energy was incredibly difficult.

It took him three full hours, with Pu’s patient guidance, before he finally felt the connection to the formation. He gathered his energy and stomped his foot. The talismans ignited, and a black hole slowly burned its way into existence.

This time, he was prepared for the chilling aura. He looked at his very first formation with excitement, waiting for a Nether-Soul to appear. Soon, a wisp of black mist drifted out. Sensing the relatively weak aura of the creature before it, the mindless being lunged.

Qin Haoxuan formed a spirit blade of his own and prepared to fight. But when his blade struck the mist, it was like hitting a solid object, getting stuck. It wasn’t at all like the effortless slices Pu had demonstrated.

“More spiritual energy!” Pu called out.

Blushing, Qin Haoxuan poured more power into his hand. The blade began to glow with a faint silver light, and this time, he managed to slice off a small piece of the mist.

But the creature was relentless. It pressed its attack, and soon Qin Haoxuan was stumbling backward, clumsy and overwhelmed, with no room to counter-attack. Pu watched with interest, ready to intervene but letting his junior brother learn.

Forced into a corner with nowhere left to retreat, a thought flashed in Qin Haoxuan’s mind. Do these things have a Spiritual Sense? He used his own to probe the creature.

In the center of the black mist, he found a weak, gray soul-consciousness, the source of the entire entity. He condensed the golden mist of his own Spiritual Sense into a vortex, then into a beam of light. He was surprised to find that it was much easier this time, a clear sign of his progress in the valley.

The golden beam shot from his mind and struck the Nether-Soul’s core. The creature, sensing the immense threat, tried to flee, but it was far too slow. The beam struck its soul-consciousness and instantly annihilated it. The creature dissolved into a puddle of foul-smelling liquid.

Pu, who had been rushing to intervene, stopped in his tracks, his jaw hanging open. The Nether-Soul had just… died. What happened? he wondered. He only hit it three or four times. He must have gotten lucky and accidentally struck its life-source.

“It’s getting late,” he said, looking at the sky. “I’m heading back. You continue practicing.” He then turned, his voice filled with a familiar, heartfelt urgency.

“Junior Brother Qin, you must seize the time to cultivate. Only by breaking through to the next realm can you increase your lifespan and achieve the legendary daylight ascension to become a true immortal.”

(End of Chapter)