Chu Mo gazed at the eerie Little Pagoda, his heart tightening. The Five-Colored Mist Veil rose around him before he spoke. "What do you mean by this, senior brother?"
"This treasure is called the [Ten Thousand Infant Tower].
99
Ming He toyed with the Little Pagoda spinning in his palm, his voice flat and unruffled. "It was a vile business. Years ago, within our sect's domain, a Foundation Establishment evil cultivator sought to refine this vicious Dharmic Treasure. Using a secret art, he tracked down over ten thousand pregnant women and used evil sorcery to hasten the growth of the children in their wombs."
"The unborn children were tainted with resentment and baleful energy while still within their mothers, giving them a faint trace of cultivation from birth. Yet because of the secret art, their minds remained muddled, holding nothing but the purest resentment and pain.
When the melons ripened and fell from their stems, the instant those infants were born, that evil cultivator gouged out their heart's essence blood and Grudge Spirits while they were still alive, refining them into this tower."
"The evil cultivator thought he had kept his deeds hidden, little knowing that the Heavenly Dao saw all. As it happened, I was traveling at the time and stumbled upon his crimes. I wiped out both him and his lair.
This tower was one of the spoils from that battle."
He lightly tapped the tower with a fingertip, drawing an even sharper, more piercing chorus of infant cries. "This treasure excels at defiling magical treasures and devouring souls. But its method of refinement was vicious beyond measure and offended the harmony of heaven, leaving it vulnerable to many orthodox Divine Abilities, such as lightning and fire.
Still, I saw some redeeming value in it, so I kept