Chapter Seventy-Five: A Night of Whirling Shadows and Dancing Spirits

Within the quiet chamber, dozens of ragged prisoners were confined. Upon the stone platform lay two burly men, their skin sagging, hair streaked with gray. The Dragon Skin Armor and Blood-Dissolving Demon Blade relentlessly drew blood.

“Spare me!”
“Immortal, have mercy! I’ll never dare again!”
The prisoners wept bitterly, begging for their lives; some were so terrified they wet themselves. The scales of the Dragon Skin Armor had recovered more than half, and the cracks in the Blood-Dissolving Demon Blade had diminished greatly. It had taken half a year to restore them to this state.

Lu Qian now truly slaughtered without remorse. Yet, even so, he felt little burden—most of these were bandits or death-row criminals guilty of heinous crimes. They had killed, and now they were killed in turn; it was a cycle of retribution.

He returned to the alchemy room. Three paper figures had finished refining the yellow cinnabar powder. Next came the formation of the pill. The flames in the cauldron burned pure white, illuminating the entire room. The cauldron released astonishing heat, drenching the room in sweat. Were it not for the completion of the paper figures, granting them some resistance to fire and water, everything would have been ablaze.

Taking out a white jade bottle, translucent and swirling with crimson blood, he opened the cork stopper and poured the blood into the cauldron. A mist of blood rose, faintly shaping itself into a black-armored giant python. The python hissed and roared, but soon was refined away; the flames died, a swirl of azure smoke filled the chamber, and a fragrant aroma blossomed.

Within the cauldron lay a glowing red golden pill—the Dao Soldier Golden Pill of the Black-Armored Water Python. With the pill refined, Lu Qian recited softly:

“Receive the Dao, soldiers, come to my altar; those who obey shall prosper, those who defy shall perish. Assist the Dao, help me to truth, grant you the register, now obey!”

In the void, crimson and winding talismanic script coalesced and sank into the golden pill—a means to control the Dao soldiers.

Lu Qian shook a bell. A woman appeared at the entrance to the basement. Behind her stretched a pair of immense black-feathered wings; several black feathers adorned her temples, her gaze sharp and luminous, exuding a strange and alluring beauty.

“Call Black Eagle and the others.”
The Cold-Blooded Thirteen Eagles crowded in. Many, witnessing such a scene for the first time, were struck speechless. The tales they’d heard were nothing compared to seeing it firsthand.

Lu Qian handed a golden pill to Black Eagle.
“This is a golden pill. Consuming it grants supernatural power. If your will is not firm, it may endanger your life. Decide for yourself.”
Black Eagle took the pill, an overwhelming desire flooding his heart. Immortal power—wasn’t this exactly what he sought? Compared to such intoxicating strength, what did a little danger matter? Since the founding of the Cold-Blooded Thirteen Eagles, peril had been commonplace.

“I am willing.”

Black Eagle gritted his teeth and swallowed the pill. Amid agonized screams, blood mist erupted from his body. The basement’s shadows swallowed them all; silence reigned, broken only by nervous gulping.

After a long while, Black Eagle stood up, transformed. His fangs were elongated, his eyes yellow, his scales black. Below his neck, palm-sized black scales covered his skin, shimmering with metallic sheen—impervious to blades, resistant to fire and water.

Black Eagle knelt, examining his body and sharp fangs with satisfaction. Even in darkness, his eyes could sense prey with perfect clarity.

Boom!

Dust exploded outward; the ground was smashed into a deep pit. Though his appearance was somewhat grotesque, his strength was dozens of times greater than before.

“Any other abilities?” Lu Qian asked.
“Yes!” Black Eagle closed his eyes to sense, then suddenly opened his mouth, spitting out a jet-black water arrow.

Splurt!

The wall corroded, leaving a hole the size of a human head.

“Impervious to blades, incredible strength, and within my belly, a mouthful of corrosive black water. Roughly equivalent to mid-stage Embryonic Breathing level,” Lu Qian mused.

Soon, following Black Eagle’s lead, fifteen were successfully transformed into Black-Armored Water Python Dao Soldiers, and three into Human-Headed Demon Eagle Dao Soldiers. This included ten members of the Cold-Blooded Thirteen Eagles and eight prisoners; the others died. With Yue and Black Eagle, there were twenty Dao Soldiers in total.

Night fell.

Dense fog shrouded the full moon, the earth shadowed and grim. Within the eerie mansion, more than ten Black-Scaled Serpent-Eyed Water Python Dao Soldiers stood guard, while four Demon Eagle Dao Soldiers soared overhead. Demons and monsters crowded respectfully around a Taoist in a black cloak, as if specters and beasts were preparing to feast upon man.

“Black Eagle, you and the Water Python Dao Soldiers guard the mansion. Yue, you and the Demon Eagle Dao Soldiers patrol the perimeter. Kill any intruders!”

“Yes!”
All responded in unison, their voices piercing the silence of the night.

Xi Yue timidly peeked out, her beautiful eyes tinged with anxiety; seeing her elder sister’s fate, she felt uneasy. Having just awoken, she hadn’t time to dress, only donned a loose coat. The thin garment outlined her distinct curves, her legs long and pale. Her face bore a shy, timid expression, evoking involuntary tenderness.

Lu Qian turned and smiled, “You needn’t join them. Since you’ve sensed Qi, tomorrow I’ll teach you the Yin-Chill Azure Scale Serpent Transformation and the Ghostly Green Fireball.”

“Mm.” Xi Yue murmured softly.

Creak!

The door closed by itself. Lu Qian lifted her in his arms; her sash loosened, black hair cascading like a waterfall, warm and crimson, like pearls upon a jade plate.

Lu Qian appraised her, making her cheeks blush with rosy glow. His gaze was appreciative, his heart serene.

As the ancients said: Man and woman complement each other, as Heaven and Earth give birth to one another. No need for excessive taboo—let nature take its course.

He circulated his energy, visualized his own form.

A world of darkness, an ancient river of the Yellow Springs.

Within the yellow currents, a creature resembling a fish yet not a fish—a dragon—leapt joyously in the water. The cold, deep waters of the Yellow Springs slid across its earth-yellow scales. It summoned clouds, stirred wind and rain. Its golden eyes gleamed with human-like joy, its giant maw of fangs howling skyward. The true water of the Yin-Kui circulated throughout its body, steadily and rapidly strengthening it.

Days later, in the spirit fields behind the mountain.

Roars shook the heavens, beasts fled in panic. An immensely powerful force devoured the vital energy of all things nearby. Within a radius of several miles, flowers, grass, and trees withered.

A creature, fish-like in shape with fin-like limbs, large eyes, elongated snout, and sharp teeth, soared into the sky—dark yellow, a fish-dragon.

In the next moment, it was seized by a pair of mighty hands.

A three-foot azure blade pierced its skull.

Lu Qian produced a bottle, collecting the emerald blood. The blood emitted a strange fragrance; just a whiff brought a profound sense of well-being.

“Fish-dragon, at last you have matured.” Lu Qian’s eyes flashed with delight. After more than a year, the grasses had finally transformed into beasts.

He spent three days arranging his tools, storing magical artifacts and necessities in a cosmic pouch. Entering a prepared cave, he ordered his Dao Soldiers to stand guard.

Then, he lowered a massive boulder, sealing the entrance.

The cave was dim, devoid of light. Inside stood an altar of five-colored earth; Lu Qian sat naked at its center. Upon the altar, he drew a complex array with cinnabar, mercury, sulfur, and other substances.

He regulated his breathing, closed his eyes, and focused his spirit. The power of True Water poured into the array. The lines glowed, radiating blood-red light.

Lu Qian opened the jade bottle of blood, dipped a grooved blade into it, and carved totem-like markings across his body. Blood from his wounds mingled with the fish-dragon’s blood, a burning sensation flooding him.

This was the “Blood-Entering Method” from the Nine Heavens Moonlight Blood Refinement Technique.

As he finished, the array shone even brighter. The blood markings on his body slowly faded, merging with himself.

Now, True Water was consumed rapidly; in the next moment, he’d be drained dry.

Lu Qian quickly took out a fiery red date and swallowed it. The fire date, saved for so long, finally had its use. Without abundant energy, body refinement was impossible.

After consuming the treasure, Lu Qian entered deep meditation.

Day after day, dust settled upon him, yet the array blazed ever brighter.

Two months passed; Lu Qian had not awoken nor eaten, his body gaunt as bone. Without the support of the celestial fire date, he would surely have perished.

Another month went by.

Thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, and rain poured endlessly.

The gloomy rain lasted for more than a month, the sky dark and unsettling, as if foretelling something ominous.