Shamanic Gu Poison: The Death-Seeking Curse

"Your poison is rather interesting..." Fang Ling was a little surprised.

This was the first poison-wielding cultivator he had encountered since leaving the mountain.

Witch Daoist's poison was different from the poison he had cultivated since childhood. It specifically attacked the Divine Soul!

He had once heard his fat master say that the world's poison arts fell into two categories.

One was medicinal poison, and the other was shamanic gu poison.

Medicinal poison was the most common and mainly targeted the physical body.

Shamanic gu poison, however, was exceedingly rare-an ancient art that specifically targeted the Divine Soul.

At that moment, the shamanic poison kept attacking his Divine Soul, trying to break through the barrier around it.

But that barrier had been laid down by the White-Browed Old Monk years ago to protect his Divine Soul from being annihilated by the Devil Ancestor's Heart.

Its strength went without saying. Even this primordial shamanic poison could not break through it.

"One, two, three..." Witch Daoist counted to himself, only to realize immediately that something was wrong.

"Impossible! Why aren't you dead yet?" He involuntarily stepped back, his face paling in shock.

"Actually, you aren't the only one skilled with poison." Fang Ling smiled, and a colorless, odorless poisonous gas seeped from his body.

The gas quickly spread, poisoning the people nearby to death on the spot.

Seeing the situation turn against him, Witch Daoist tried to grease his heels and flee, but he too screamed and collapsed, rolling on the ground in agony.

His aged face swelled, and his skin turned an eerie eggplant purple.

Blood streamed from his seven orifices, and his body stiffened.

"You're so young! How can your poison cultivation be so profound?" Witch Daoist's eyes bulged wider than bronze bells.

Although he primarily cultivated ancient shamanic gu poison, he had never neglected medicinal poison and was deeply accomplished in it as well.

Yet he was utterly helpless against the toxin Fang Ling released. His own poison-resistant barrier crumbled to dust in an instant.

So my poison cultivation is this powerful... Seeing Witch Daoist on the verge of death, Fang Ling could not help feeling surprised.

It seems my fat master's poisonous insects were even more formidable than I imagined...

Witch Daoist's cultivation was far from low. He was at the early Jade Balance stage.

Moreover, he had lived for thousands of years, so his poison cultivation had to be incredibly profound.

Yet a poison cultivator like him had actually been crushed by Fang Ling's mere dozen-odd years of cultivation.

"You little bastard. It seems this old man has fallen at your hands."

"But don't think you'll get off lightly. I've prepared a generous gift for you!"

Witch Daoist, who had been lying on the ground at death's door, suddenly sprang upright like a carp flipping out of the water.

Still, he could barely stand, staggering as though he might fall at any moment.

Fang Ling did not know what other tricks he had left, but he would not foolishly stand there waiting for him to use them.

He raised his sword and brought it down, instantly hacking Witch Daoist into scattered pieces.

"You think you can escape it this way? Dream on!"

"This is the ancient forbidden art, the Death-Seeking Curse, cast with my own life as the sacrifice."

"No matter how powerful your Divine Soul or how exquisite your divine abilities, you cannot evade it."

"The Death-Seeking Curse, the Death-Seeking Curse-it leaves you unable to live and unable to die!"

"Hahaha! I'll be waiting for you in the underworld!"

Although he had hacked Witch Daoist's body into pieces, Fang Ling could still hear his voice.

A blood curse took shape, disregarding space and time as it swept past the barrier formed by the Golden Soul Mantra and imprinted itself on Fang Ling's Divine Soul.

The moment the blood curse entered his soul, the pain nearly made Fang Ling pass out.

This agony was even more horrifying than the heart-gouging, bone-hollowing pain of his childhood nightmares.

"Even First Master's Golden Soul Mantra couldn't stop it..." Fang Ling sank to one knee, clutching his head as though it were about to explode.

"Look! That great demon is wounded!"

"Quick! Kill him while he's down! Finish him off!"

"Charge! We can't get out anyway! We're dead either way, so fight him to the death!"

One rallying cry drew a hundred responses from the cultivators watching nearby, and they all charged at Fang Ling.

With his Divine Soul threatening to split apart, Fang Ling raised his head, his face contorted by the excruciating pain.

He gripped his Life-Bound Blood Sword once more and looked toward the crowd.

Fang Ling's crazed appearance frightened many of them into crying out, abandoning their swords, and fleeing.

But some still charged forward and attacked him.

"Damn it! This demon's body is too powerful! We can't break through his defenses at all!"

A sword cultivator stared blankly at his treasured sword, which lay shattered on the ground.

But in the next instant, he was cleaved vertically in half in a gruesome spray of blood.

Fang Ling swung his sword, slaughtering in every direction. He discovered that killing eased the pain in his Divine Soul somewhat.

Or perhaps it was not the killing itself, but merely the distraction of doing something else that slightly relieved the pain.

An unknown amount of time passed before this great, weather-beaten city finally fell silent once more, without even a crow's cry.

Fang Ling drove his Life-Bound Blood Sword heavily into the ground, letting it absorb the blood baleful energy.

Then he threw back his head, devouring heaven and earth.

The starlike motes of life essence gathered into a river of stars, which he swallowed in one gulp.

His body began to swell, and in the blink of an eye, he became a giant thirty feet tall.

Yet an instant later, he shrank from a giant back to his original form.

Only his skin looked different, having turned dark red.

I've finally gained initial mastery of the Taotie Divine Art... Looking at his dark red skin, Fang Ling nodded to himself.

His barbarian master had told him that he would only truly gain initial mastery of this divine art when his body began to transform.

At that moment, Fang Ling felt as though he had inexhaustible strength. If a mountain stood before him, he would surely smash it apart with a single punch.

He let out a furious roar, and the crimson color faded from his skin, returning it to its normal flesh tone.

He could distinctly feel that his strength had diminished somewhat.

That must be the Demon Prison Body my barbarian master spoke of.

Transforming into the Demon Prison Body greatly strengthens the flesh, but suppresses reason and consciousness.

Despite his increased strength, Fang Ling felt no joy whatsoever.

Witch Daoist's Death-Seeking Curse truly left him unable to live and unable to die.

He did not know how to dispel this agonizing pain in his Divine Soul. His trip to Boundless City left him feeling that the gains did not outweigh the losses.

Nearby, the blood sword continued absorbing the blood baleful energy of over a million cultivators in the city, its aura growing ever more terrifying.

Then black patterns appeared on the blood sword, lending a touch of mystery to its once plain appearance.

"These should be the blood baleful patterns Sword Master spoke of-Dao patterns born when blood baleful energy becomes sufficiently condensed."

"If an ordinary person lacks a steadfast heart, merely seeing the blood baleful patterns will affect them. They'll feel as though they're standing amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood, until they finally die of terror."

Fang Ling murmured to himself, pulled out the blood sword, and slowly walked toward the eastern gate.

He had finished cultivating. All that remained in the city was a sea of white bones...

Not long after he left Boundless City, two figures appeared in the sky above it.

"Miss, although this man once did us a kindness..."

"We would still do well not to get too close to him. His demonic nature runs too deep..."

The old woman looked at the withered bones covering the ground and shook her head.

Shangguan Haiyue gazed in the direction Fang Ling had left and murmured, "Precisely because he once saved me, I want to save him in return."

"We have to pull him out of the abyss, or he won't come to a good end."

"But with my abilities, I certainly can't help him..."

"Still, we met Abbess Purple Bamboo in Chess City a few days ago. With her abilities, she can surely make Fang Ling abandon evil and return to the righteous path!"

"Abbess Purple Bamboo?" The old woman nodded. "If it's her, then perhaps..."