Chapter Fifty-Four: The Heart-Pierced People

“You only wanted to test me, and then you did this to me!” The Black Goat was utterly shocked.

This fellow was ruthless beyond belief.

He harbored suspicion and was ready to kill over it.

Judging from the grip on his neck just now, and the heat of the flames, it was clear this man truly meant to end him.

That was why he’d thought Lu Qian had discovered something and had panicked, fighting back immediately—only to realize it had all been a bluff.

“If I confess everything, will you spare me?”

“Speak first. You’re in no position to negotiate.”

Under Lu Qian’s threat of death, the Black Goat could only confess the truth.

He hadn’t lied earlier; he had indeed been lured here by the demon sorcerer.

But the demon sorcerer hadn’t died from grievous wounds inflicted by an enemy—it was the Black Goat who had killed him by treachery.

The mural depicted an array the demon sorcerer had set up to defend his cave.

Within it, the Bloodsucking Demon Tree could fly out from the mural, drag enemies into its embrace, and drain them dry.

Those seen resting beneath the tree in the mural were, in fact, slain Daoists.

Sixty years ago, a few Daoists had also mistakenly wandered in and were lured to their deaths by him.

“I didn’t expect you to have a few tricks up your sleeve,” Lu Qian remarked with a smile.

This person’s fate was truly wretched.

First struck down by sorcery, then turning the tables in the end—had he not encountered Lu Qian, he might have truly made something of himself.

Afterward, with the Black Goat leading the way, Lu Qian ventured to the deepest part of the cave.

The gloomy interior wasn’t as luxurious as one might expect, merely containing a solitary meditation mat.

On rocks at the back lay a scattering of miscellaneous items.

It made sense; after all, this was only a temporary lair—what use was luxury?

Most of the other items were clothes, rusty weapons, and empty medicine bottles.

The finer things had probably all been taken by the Black Goat.

“Didn’t the demon sorcerer leave behind any magical treasures?” Lu Qian turned to ask.

“I don’t know. I never found any treasures myself,” the Black Goat replied in panic, shaking his head with genuine distress.

Lu Qian summoned several eerie paper figures.

They searched every inch of the cave, but no magical treasure was found.

Could it be, as the goat said, that this demon sorcerer was truly penniless?

“My lord, I didn’t lie to you, did I?” the Black Goat said obsequiously. “I’m very familiar with the terrain around here—I can lead you anywhere.”

“Then do you know any special cultivation methods or secret techniques?”

The Black Goat shook his head bitterly. “I wish I did, but the demon sorcerer was already dead when I killed him. The others I lured in were all novices without any cultivation at the time.”

To this day, the Black Goat’s own cultivation consisted only of the most basic methods, absorbing sunlight and moonlight, never having had the chance to learn any powerful techniques.

“What use are you, then!” Lu Qian snorted coldly.

Ghostly flames surged; the Black Goat was reduced to ashes in an instant, without so much as a scream.

Thud!

Something black fell to the ground.

Lu Qian stepped closer to look.

It was a pitch-black cloak—cross-collared, with large sleeves and a wide robe, fastened with leather ties.

The outer material was soft, seemingly made of wool.

He picked it up; a chill seeped into his hands.

Infusing it with his true energy, the cloak started to shimmer as if becoming insubstantial.

After a few moments of examination, Lu Qian basically understood its function.

“So that’s why you were so hard to beat,” Lu Qian realized.

This robe was a magical artifact.

A magical artifact, in essence, is an implement refined by cultivators to possess the power of spells.

Depending on certain conditions, its powers could be triggered actively or passively.

Because they were made of durable materials and were difficult to destroy, magical artifacts were especially prized.

For a cultivator, possessing one was like having an extra powerful spell at their disposal.

In reality, Daoists might only have two or three strong spells; gaining another would greatly enhance their strength.

The grade of a magical artifact usually depended on the level and number of spells embedded in it, as well as the quality of its materials.

Refining and upgrading such artifacts required special techniques known as "seals."

Put simply, seals are layers of power added to the artifact, each refinement enhancing its might—akin to strengthening in online games.

The first seal adds one point of power, the second adds two, the third adds three... and so on, incrementally.

If Lu Qian guessed correctly, this robe was an eight-seal artifact.

Its power was equivalent to the late stage of Qi Refining.

Its sole function was defense.

When worn, if struck by an opponent’s spell, the wearer’s body would become insubstantial and then re-form, thereby negating the enemy’s powerful attack.

The Black Goat’s own cultivation was actually quite poor; the fact that he had survived several of Lu Qian’s attacks proved just how formidable this artifact was.

Lu Qian donned the black robe. The inky garment made his face appear ghastly pale, and in the thick, persistent night fog, his figure drifted like a phantom.

After familiarizing himself with the robe’s powers, Lu Qian paused.

A simple test showed that the cloak could resist several spells from a Spirit Nourishing stage cultivator, and when worn, increased his speed.

Also, Lu Qian discovered other uses for it.

After taking the Yin Ink of the Undying, he could transform into a swiftly moving shadow.

This shadow form could fly and was impervious to enemy attacks—a perfect tool for assassination and arson.

“I’ll call you Blackcloak,” Lu Qian murmured, stroking the soft wool.

He stored the artifact in the Heaven-Holding Pouch, searched the area again to make sure nothing was missed, then turned and left the cave.

“Hm?”

Passing by the mural, something beneath it caught his eye.

Previously, when Lu Qian destroyed the Bloodsucking Demon Tree, the mural lost its power and its contents spilled out.

Among the scattered items, something in a corpse’s hand drew his attention.

It was a slightly yellowed piece of straw paper, scribbled with chaotic diagrams and notes.

From the frantic lines, it was clear the writer had been agitated, perhaps even terrified.

Lu Qian picked up the paper and glanced over its contents.

The tangled lines resembled a map, and beside them were several lines of small script, conveying the original owner’s complex state of mind.

“So there really are Pierced-Chest People in this world! Truly beneath the Underworld.”

“Never meet their gaze. Be sure to return before midnight!!!”

“I regret it so much. If only I’d known sooner—my senior brothers and sisters are all dead.”

Then followed a string of rambling thoughts; by that point, the writer must have gone mad, which led to him being lured and killed by the Black Goat.

On the paper was a drawing of a human figure.

A broad nose, wide mouth, black face with loose hair.

Covered in tattoos, with legs so long they made up six or seven tenths of the body, and a face as sharp as a cone.

Most striking of all, there was a large hole in the figure’s chest.

“Pierced-Chest People?” Lu Qian mused.

This drawing must depict the Pierced-Chest People mentioned in the notes.

According to ancient texts like the Classic of Huainanzi, the Pierced-Chest People are a legendary race with a gaping hole in their chests.

The "Geography" section of Huainanzi records: “Among the thirty-six countries of the world, from the lands beyond the Ruins of Return to the southern reaches of the Underworld, there are the Pierced-Chest People, the Reversed-Tongue People, the Three-Headed People, and the Long-Armed People...”

(A note from the author: All these quotations in the book are adapted from real texts, not fabricated. There will be more such references from the Classic of Mountains and Seas, Huainanzi, The Classic of Divine Marvels, and Records of Broad Knowledge, depicting wondrous peoples and exotic lands. This is also the origin of the book’s title.)