Dark Fragrance Drifts, the Beginning of Corruption

The night was deep. Xiao Wu curled up alone in the corner of her room, her heart still pounding wildly. Zhu Zhuqing's cold words echoed through her mind like a curse.

"Aromatic Silk Beauty... there's more than one..." "Prove your worth..." "Create chaos... draw away their attention..."

Hope coiled around her heart like poisonous vines, bringing a trace of sweet comfort, but even more suffocating fear and madness. She knew she was being used. Zhu Zhuqing clearly wanted her to serve as cannon fodder to draw enemy fire. But so what? This was the only chance she could seize! For the Immortal Herb, for survival, she had to gamble!

"At any cost..." Xiao Wu murmured. The last trace of hesitation in her ruby-like eyes was utterly crushed, leaving only the resolve to stake everything on one throw. She began thinking frantically. How could she create enough chaos? How could she escape from such heavily guarded treasure vaults? One dangerous, insane thought after another took root in her mind.

Meanwhile, in another dormitory, Zhu Zhuqing sat cross-legged on her bed, her cold eyes utterly still. Using Xiao Wu? Yes. But so what? In this world where the strong devoured the weak, if one wanted something, one had to pay a price and make use of every available resource. Feeling the lingering pain of her internal injuries and her overwhelming thirst for strength, her heart became colder and harder. His Highness the Holy Son was right. Waiting would get her nowhere. If she wanted something, she had to take it herself! Xiao Wu was merely a necessary piece in the plan.

Ning Rongrong, meanwhile, lay sprawled over her desk, her little face scrunched up as she clutched a charcoal pencil and painstakingly sketched on a large sheet of rough paper. Spread out before her were several incomplete guard deployment maps she had secretly copied from her father, along with the internal layout of the treasure vault drawn from hazy childhood memories.

"Here's the main entrance... four Soul King uncles take turns standing guard..." "The western vent... I think it's behind the third grille..." "Father's study has a secret passage leading directly to the treasure vault... but the entrance has Soul Tool detection..." "Grandpa Sword sometimes sits on top of the treasure vault and drinks..."

She drew while muttering under her breath, trying her best to recall every detail. The thought of stealing from her own family made her feel both thrilled and frightened, but the moment she thought of fixing her Martial Soul's flaw, of truly becoming strong, of no longer being a flower vase that needed protection, her rebelliousness and longing overwhelmed everything else. She absolutely could not fail!

The next day, at the abandoned Training Ground, the content of the special training changed completely.

For Ning Rongrong, Yang Yu's demands became exceptionally harsh. He no longer had her control "Qian Jun." Instead, he brought out a basin of clear water and a silver needle as thin as a strand of hair. "Attach your Soul Power to the needle's tip and suspend it one inch above the water. Keep the needle perfectly still and do not let a single ripple form on the surface. When you can maintain it for two hours, we move on to the next exercise." Yang Yu's voice was cold and merciless.

Ning Rongrong wore a bitter expression as she tried to attach a thread of Soul Power to the silver needle, carefully suspending it over the still water. Yet that thread of Soul Power was always difficult to keep completely stable. The needle trembled slightly, and faint ripples immediately spread across the surface. "Too much fluctuation! Again!" "Your mind is unsettled! Again!" "Your breathing is affecting your Soul Power! Control your breathing rhythm!"

Yang Yu's rebukes showed no mercy. Ning Rongrong failed again and again. Her spiritual power was draining at an unprecedented speed, her little face pale and sweat pouring down like rain, but she gritted her teeth, her gaze stubborn. She did not cry, throw a tantrum, or complain as she once had. She knew this concerned the operation a month from now. It concerned her future!

Zhu Zhuqing's training was even more dangerous. Yang Yu personally stepped in as her opponent. His attacks were not fierce, and he rarely even used Soul Skills. He merely stepped, punched, and waved his hand. Yet every movement precisely predicted the fastest ambush routes and most concealed hiding shadows of Zhu Zhuqing's Hell Spirit Cat! At times, faint spatial fluctuations curled around his fingertips, disrupting her speed. At times, he flicked out a ripple of time, slowing her movements for an instant. At other times, he released an incredibly faint trace of Dragon Might, striking at her mind!

Zhu Zhuqing pushed the Hell Spirit Cat's speed and stealth to their limits. Like a true spirit of the night, she left streaks of afterimages across the Training Ground, launching attacks from every imaginable angle! Yet every time, Yang Yu casually neutralized her attacks, forced her back, or even sent her flying!

Bang! Zhu Zhuqing was struck on the shoulder once more by Yang Yu's seemingly casual palm. She staggered backward through the air, rolled several times across the ground, and only then steadied herself. A trace of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. Her internal injuries had been aggravated, sending waves of stabbing pain through her body.

"Not fast enough! Shadows are not your turtle shell! They are tools for you to command!" "Your aura leaked! Your killing intent is too heavy! Stealth is not assassination!" "What are your eyes looking at? Perceive! Use your Martial Soul instincts to sense the airflow, light, and Soul Power fluctuations!"

Yang Yu's guidance was like a cold blade, precisely cutting open every one of her subtle mistakes. Zhu Zhuqing silently wiped away the blood from her lips, her eyes cold and focused, then pounced again like a leopard. Again and again, she was driven back. Again and again, she adjusted. Again and again, she became faster, more elusive, more deadly! Her understanding of the Hell Spirit Cat deepened at a maddening pace!

Occasionally, Yang Yu combined the two training sessions. He had Ning Rongrong, under extreme mental focus, simultaneously sense and memorize the trails of afterimages and lingering Soul Power left behind by Zhu Zhuqing's high-speed movements. He had Zhu Zhuqing practice stealth and ambushes amid the faint Soul Power interference created by Ning Rongrong.

Their coordination, initially clumsy and mutually hindering, gradually developed a faint, indescribable tacit understanding. Ning Rongrong's spiritual perception grew sharper and sharper, to the point where she could vaguely catch the Soul Power fluctuations when Zhu Zhuqing merged into the shadows. Zhu Zhuqing also began to grow accustomed to sparing a trace of attention during her movements, watching for the faint "signals" Ning Rongrong might provide.

Xiao Wu, on the other hand, was completely excluded. She could only watch from afar, watching Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing improve at a terrifying rate under Yang Yu's devilish training, watching the growing understanding between them. The anxiety and jealousy in her heart grew wildly like weeds! She felt herself being pushed to the margins, felt herself missing the most important opportunity! Zhu Zhuqing had not sought her out once since that night! This made her even more uneasy and frantic, and she began secretly preparing some extreme measures.

Deep underground in Nuoding City Martial Soul Branch Hall, within a sealed chamber built entirely from Soul Power-insulating obsidian, the light was dim. The air was cold and damp, permeated by the pungent stench of blood mixed with medicinal herbs.

Tang San was bound to the cold stone wall by thick Soul Locking Chains. Special steel nails pierced through his shoulder blades, sealing most of his Soul Power. His head hung low, his disheveled hair covering his face. His body was covered in wounds, and his breath was weak. Yet the eyes visible through the gaps in his hair no longer held their former resentment and madness. They were deathly still, cold and hollow like ten-thousand-year ice.

The Mysterious Heaven Treasure Record had been taken. His father had perhaps already met with disaster, or so he guessed. He had become a prisoner. Dai Mubai had become crippled... Every hope and shred of pride had been thoroughly crushed.

Click. The chamber door was pushed open. Yue Guan entered, his alluring figure carrying a bowl of black medicinal soup that gave off a heavy, bitter odor.

"Kid, time for your medicine." Yue Guan wore a false smile. "This is good stuff. It'll keep you alive, so you don't accidentally die. His Highness still has a use for you."

Tang San slowly raised his head. His lifeless gaze swept over the bowl of medicine, and his voice was hoarse and dry. "What is this?"

"Don't worry, it won't kill you." Yue Guan gripped Tang San's chin and forcibly poured the medicine down his throat. The concoction was extremely bitter and carried a strange fishy stench. Once it entered his stomach, it transformed into a stream of icy air that spread through his limbs and bones, even bringing a faint itching numbness to his shattered meridians. Yet what followed was an even deeper weakness and... an indescribable sense of emptiness.

"Tsk, your bones are pretty hard." After finishing the medicine, Yue Guan casually tossed the bowl aside and studied Tang San, a trace of surprise flashing through his eyes. "Anyone else would have broken down after going through all this. You're somewhat interesting."

Tang San said nothing. He merely lowered his head again, like a soulless shell.

Yue Guan did not care and continued speaking to himself. "Let me tell you some good news. Your teacher, Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang... tsk, he tried to sneak into the branch hall to rescue you. What a pity... he wasn't capable enough. The patrolling knights mistook him for an Evil Soul Master accomplice and accidentally beat him to death. What a shame about that Elder Token."

Boom! Tang San's body jolted violently! Though he had long since stopped hoping for Yu Xiaogang, hearing that he had been beaten to death like a stray dog still felt like a needle stabbing into his heart! The final weak connection he had to this world was completely severed. His clenched fists trembled from the force, his nails digging deep into his palms. Blood seeped through his fingers and dripped onto the cold floor.

Yet he still did not speak. He only buried his head lower. Beneath his tangled hair, his face twisted, while his eyes became increasingly hollow and deathly still, as if all emotion had frozen and solidified along with the blood flowing from his hands.

Yue Guan watched Tang San's state, the amusement in his eyes deepening. He enjoyed the process of destroying people's hopes.

"Stay put." Yue Guan chuckled softly and turned to leave.

The heavy stone door closed again. The chamber returned to deathly silence.

After an unknown length of time, Tang San slowly raised his head. There was no expression on his face, only an extreme coldness. He tried circulating the Mysterious Heaven Skill. It was still sluggish, but the icy current brought by that bowl of medicine seemed to have numbed his perception of pain somewhat, while leaving his mind extraordinarily clear.

He looked at the pool of blood that belonged to him on the floor, then at the steel nails piercing through his shoulder blades. Uncontrollably, the forbidden, vicious secret arts recorded in the Tang Sect Secret Canon surfaced in his mind—arts that burned life, ravaged potential, and ensured mutual destruction with the enemy...

A mad and dark thought, like a poisonous seed, quietly broke through the surface of his deathly still heart.

Strength... I need strength... strength at any cost...

Even if... I become Asura...

He slowly closed his eyes and began, in a strange and painful rhythm, forcibly reversing the remaining inner power of the Mysterious Heaven Skill, striking at the sealed acupoints and shattered meridians! Every impact brought heart-rending agony, but his deathly still face did not change in the slightest. Only the corners of his mouth slowly curved into a cold, twisted arc like that of a vengeful ghost.

Meanwhile, beside a desolate official road outside Nuoding City, a hunchbacked old man dressed in tattered clothes, reeking of stench, and wearing the cloudy eyes of a beggar, staggered forward with the aid of a wooden cane.

From time to time, he raised his head toward Nuoding City. Deep within those muddy eyes, a faint resentment and anxiety flashed like that of a venomous snake.

It was Yu Xiaogang, disguised beyond recognition and fortunate enough to escape! That night, he had never gone to save Tang San. Sensing extreme danger, he had immediately used a self-mutilating secret technique to feign death and escape! He knew Nuoding City was no longer a place he could remain. Spirit Hall's power far exceeded his imagination! He had to leave! He had to seek refuge with that person... the one who might be able to help him avenge his hatred!

He touched the ancient token hidden close against his chest, engraved with a small hammer and a Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon. A trace of viciousness flashed through his eyes.

Flender... Erlong... and... Clear Sky Douluo... Yang Yu... Spirit Hall... just you wait!

Yet the undercurrents of all these events seemed unable to affect the abandoned Training Ground in the back mountain.

The special training continued day after day. Ning Rongrong could finally keep that silver needle suspended above the water for a quarter of an hour without raising a ripple. Zhu Zhuqing's speed and stealth had risen to another level, and she could occasionally even barely evade Yang Yu's first prediction. Xiao Wu's eyes grew more restless by the day, and she had already begun secretly gathering low-quality, flammable and explosive Soul Tool materials. In the sealed chamber, Tang San's aura grew colder and more lifeless with every passing day. The pain of reversing his cultivation technique left him gaunt and wasted, yet a dangerous aura was quietly taking shape.

The end of the month was approaching. Yang Yu stood before the window, looking at the silver rune in his palm. The phantom of the Aromatic Silk Beauty within had already solidified until it resembled a genuine Immortal Herb. Seven-colored light flowed from it, its fragrance rich and intoxicating, even drawing several night moths to circle around the rune.

The bait had become fragrant to the extreme.

His gaze was deep as he looked toward the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

The storm was about to rise from the Glazed Tower.