Several days later, Jing Wen slowly opened his eyes in the secret chamber, the baleful qi swirling in his pupils gradually fading away. A meaningful smile appeared on his lips. "Judging by the time, Zhao Yu and the others should have reached the sixth layer of the Fiendish Demon Art by now..."
He raised a hand and tapped lightly, forming a Blood Rune in midair that sank into the Sound Transmission Talisman on the table.
The talisman paper stirred without a breeze, glowing an eerie red before falling still again.
Jing Wen did not immediately resume cultivating. Instead, he leaned against the jade couch, his fingertips tapping rhythmically on the armrest.
The candlelight cast his silhouette onto the wall. The distorted shadow seemed to possess a mind of its own, rising and falling with his thoughts.
"The sixth layer..." he murmured. "The critical moment when baleful qi enters the marrow."
In an inn in the outer city, Zhao Yu stood shoulder to shoulder with a tall cultivator at the window, carefully watching the movements outside.
The tall cultivator frowned slightly, his eyes full of doubt, and muttered, "The crowds on this street are woven thick as cloth. There aren't many cultivators in purple robes, but there are still several.
"Can we really pick out our target precisely with just that?"
Without looking away, Zhao Yu kept his full attention on the window and replied confidently, "Since Jing Wen said we'd recognize him at a glance, there won't be a problem.
"Otherwise, why would he specifically arrange for us to stake out this place again?"
The tall cultivator pursed his lips, a trace of resentment on his face, and sighed. "I never imagined our first assignment would be nothing more than coming here to sniff out information.
"A dignified cultivator at the eleventh layer of qi refining like me, reduced to this sort of work."
Zhao Yu shook his head slightly and patiently explained, "This assignment is precisely what suits us best right now.
"Our cultivation may not be low, but we've just switched cultivation arts. Inevitably, we can only wield a fraction of our strength."
The tall cultivator wholeheartedly agreed, echoing him with a wry smile. "Exactly. I've already reached the sixth layer of the Fiendish Demon Art, but the spiritual power from the two cultivation arts keeps tugging against itself inside me. Even giving it everything I've got, I could probably only muster the strength of the eighth layer of qi refining."
Zhao Yu nodded in solemn agreement. "In another month or so, we'll have completely converted the spiritual power in our bodies into that of the Fiendish Demon Art. Then our strength will return to what it was."
After exchanging a few more words, the two once again devoted all their attention to scrutinizing the purple-robed passersby on the street, letting no detail escape them.
A moment later, the inn room's door creaked as someone gently pushed it open from outside.
Dressed in black robes, Jing Wen strode steadily into the room, his bearing upright.
Zhao Yu and the tall cultivator were watching the street with complete concentration. Sensing someone enter, they hurriedly turned around.
Looking slightly restrained, they leaned forward a little and nodded to Jing Wen in greeting.
Jing Wen swept his gaze over them and waved a hand, getting straight to the point. "How has the search gone so far?"
The tall cultivator could not help asking, "We've been watching from morning until night, but we haven't seen so much as our target's shadow.
"Does that purple-robed cultivator really have no other distinguishing features?
"With nothing but 'a cultivator in purple robes' to go on, he's far too hard to find."
Jing Wen shook his head as well, a hint of helplessness in his expression, and explained, "Those were the instructions handed down from above. As for the specifics, I don't know them either."
After a brief pause, he changed tack and continued, "However, if we complete this assignment successfully, you'll each receive five bottles of Blood Pills as a reward."
At these words, Zhao Yu and the tall cultivator instantly perked up.
They knew the miraculous effects of Blood Pills all too well. Such a generous reward instantly ignited their fighting spirit, and both immediately turned around to study the street outside with even greater concentration.
Jing Wen nodded slightly at the sight. He took a Blood Pill from his Storage Bag, walked over to a meditation cushion, and sat cross-legged. Closing his eyes, he began circulating his cultivation art to refine the pill.
Time slipped quietly by. Several hours passed in a blink, the sky gradually darkening as night began to shroud the entire city.
Jing Wen slowly opened his eyes, his aura circulating around him. Clearly, he had completely refined the Blood Pill.
He stood and walked over to Zhao Yu and the tall cultivator, giving them a questioning look.
Understanding his meaning, both shook their heads, indicating that they still had not found the target.
Jing Wen said little in response. He merely turned slightly and flicked his wrist. Two Blood Pills, wrapped in surging spiritual power, shot toward Zhao Yu and the tall cultivator with a whoosh, landing securely in their palms.
"Take a break first. Swallow these Blood Pills and cultivate properly. I'll take over the watch."
Zhao Yu and the tall cultivator froze for a moment, then were overjoyed.
The Blood Pills felt warm in their hands, the spiritual power upon them brushing their palms like fine currents of electricity.
"Many thanks, fellow Daoist Jing Wen!" they said in unison.
Jing Wen walked toward the window. Instinctively, Zhao Yu and the tall cultivator stepped aside, intending to give him the best vantage point.
In that lightning-quick instant, Jing Wen casually raised both hands and lightly patted each man on the shoulder.
Yet this seemingly ordinary gesture concealed a deadly secret.
The instant his palms touched their shoulders, the spiritual power around Jing Wen abruptly changed. The Soul-Disturbing Art, concealed within his body all this time, surged into action like a raging undercurrent.
At the same time, with a single thought, he unleashed the Nine-Turn Wandering Sword. Seven flying swords radiating a chilling cold materialized out of thin air, runes flickering along their blades. Carrying razor-sharp sword qi, they slashed fiercely toward Zhao Yu and the tall cultivator.
The attack came without warning, and the two stood far too close to Jing Wen, utterly unprepared.
Zhao Yu felt an inexplicable wave of dizziness strike him. Before he could react at all, four flying swords passed through his body like phantoms, sending blood splashing everywhere.
In that instant, disbelief filled his eyes. His body toppled backward like a kite with its string severed, and in the final moment before his awareness faded, he slipped into unconsciousness.
The tall cultivator suffered the same fate. Before he could mount any defense, the flying swords grievously wounded him, leaving him collapsed in a pool of blood.
Watching the two men bleed in torrents, their auras feeble, Jing Wen slowly approached them. His hands rapidly formed seals as he continued channeling the Soul-Disturbing Art.
The Soul-Disturbing Art was a divine sense spell Jing Wen had recently learned. Under normal use, it could distract an opponent for an instant. Sustained use could gradually destroy a cultivator's divine sense, leaving them in a state akin to a vegetative coma.
Within the Black Fiend Cult, the Soul-Disturbing Art was not considered a top-tier spell of astonishing power. Yet its unique effects allowed it to play a crucial role in many assignments, making it extremely practical.
As Jing Wen continued channeling the spell, pain appeared on Zhao Yu's and the tall cultivator's faces, and their bodies twitched slightly.
Jing Wen stared unblinkingly at the two, carefully observing every change.
After a long while, he stopped and examined them closely, confirming that both were essentially in a vegetative state, their divine sense utterly destroyed.
Jing Wen frowned slightly, then took several medicinal pills from inside his robes and fed them to the two men.
Among these pills were healing medicines as well as deadly poisons.
The healing pills could barely sustain their lives, keeping them from dying of their grievous wounds;
The poisons would lurk within their bodies as a precaution against unforeseen trouble.
After dealing with Zhao Yu and the tall cultivator, Jing Wen slowly stood. His eyes half closed, he extended his spiritual power perception to its fullest, carefully sensing the marks he had left on the other two.
A moment later, his brow relaxed slightly. He confirmed that the marks had not moved, meaning the other two were still at the Taibai Stronghold and had not left.
Jing Wen darted away like a streak of black light, speeding toward the Taibai Stronghold.
Along the way, wind whistled past his ears, and the scenery on both sides of the street raced backward like phantoms.
Before long, the outline of the Taibai Stronghold appeared in his sight.
Inside the Taibai Stronghold, candlelight flickered.
The female cultivator sat upright on a meditation cushion, wholly absorbed in her cultivation.
Dense baleful qi, seemingly solid, churned and coiled around her body. Occasionally, a few wisps flicked out like nimble serpent tongues, gleaming with a cold, eerie light beneath the candles.
"Who's there?" Suddenly, the female cultivator shuddered, her eyes snapping open to reveal a sharp, icy gleam.
Her gaze swept toward the doorway, where Jing Wen's figure slowly emerged from the darkness.
"Fellow Daoist Jing Wen?" The female cultivator frowned slightly, a flicker of confusion passing through her eyes.
She lowered her guard and inclined her body in greeting.
"No need for formalities. I'm just here to check on your cultivation. Has everything been going smoothly?" Jing Wen wore a warm smile.
As he spoke, he approached her step by seemingly casual step.
The instant the female cultivator lowered her head to answer, the Soul-Disturbing Art and the Nine-Turn Wandering Sword erupted together!
Shhk! A muffled sound rang out, like a sharp blade slicing through the silent night sky, as a flying sword mercilessly pierced the female cultivator's flesh.
In disbelief, the female cultivator slowly lowered her head and stared at the sword tip that had abruptly emerged from her chest. For a moment, her mind went utterly blank.
Then a strong, metallic sweetness rose in her throat. Warm blood slowly trickled from the corner of her mouth and dripped onto the floor, spreading into a dark red stain.
The male cultivator in the neighboring room had been concentrating on his cultivation. Suddenly hearing the strange noise, he inwardly cried, Something's wrong!
With no time to think further, he immediately rushed toward the door to investigate.
Yet just as his hand was about to touch the door handle, a thunderous boom rang out. As though struck by some immense, invisible force, the door exploded apart.
Jing Wen's figure flashed into view amid the flying splinters like a black phantom.
There was not a trace of warmth in his eyes. He raised his hand and struck straight at the crown of Zheng Yu's head.
The wind from his palm howled, carrying the ink-thick black qi of the Soul-Disturbing Art as it instantly invaded the male cultivator's sea of consciousness.
The male cultivator's vision abruptly went black. His head felt as though it had been smashed by a heavy hammer. After a dizzying swirl, his legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor with a thud, unconscious.
Expressionless, Jing Wen looked down at the two convulsing figures on the floor, his gaze as cold as an icy pool.
Unhurriedly, he took two blood-red medicinal pills from inside his robes and pushed one into each of their mouths.
As the pills entered their stomachs, the two gradually stopped convulsing. Their pupils slowly lost focus, their once-lively eyes becoming vacant and lifeless.
Before you continue