Chapter 175: Someone Has Cast a Curse

The most powerful divine sense secret art of the Foundation Establishment stage?

Chen Luo’s interest was instantly piqued. He attempted to access Yue Qingping’s mind but found that she too was unable to unlock it.

The key lay with a sect called the Demonseed Sect.

Her return was part of a plan to infiltrate the sect alongside her senior brother Lin Feng and rogue cultivator Wu Tiande. Their goal: steal the method to break the bone scroll’s restrictions. The attack on Chen Luo stemmed purely from Yue Qingping’s ‘intuition’. She suspected both Chen Luo and Wang Cangxiao were members of the Demonseed Sect, prompting her to test their loyalties—actions that led to the subsequent events.

Demonseed Sect?

Chen Luo furrowed his brow.

He had never visited Blackstone City and knew little about its power dynamics or the strength of the Demonseed Sect. From his perspective, plotting against a sect with only three people seemed irrational. Having read the minds of Lin Feng and Wu Tiande, he knew each harbored their own ulterior motives. If they truly collaborated, once the Black Stone secret technique was unlocked, allies could swiftly become adversaries.

Once the storm passes, I’ll find a faction in Blackstone City to join. Then, I can use their influence to shift any danger onto the sect.

Chen Luo rose and gave the four corpses a simple burial.

With iron shovel, deer-hide gloves, and his self-composed ‘Funeral Song,’ he handled the task with smooth efficiency.

After finishing, Chen Luo emerged from the cave. He was quite interested in the Black Stone Secret Art; since it had fallen into his hands, there was no reason to let it go elsewhere.

Half a month later.

In the Mountains and Rivers Country at the foot of Black Bear Ridge, pedestrians flowed like rivers on the streets. Chen Luo, clad all in black, walked through the town, observing those around him.

This Black Bear Ridge was much like Bai Gu Ridge he’d visited before—a territory controlled by a Foundation Establishment cultivator. In these remote regions, tiny countries abounded: each city was its own nation, and within them, the people held their own beliefs and cultural systems. Here, cultivators were called “Tianshi,” revered figures in society.

Before long, Chen Luo spotted a gathering place for cultivators up ahead.

It was a mobile market.

He stepped inside, finding that everything sold here had something to do with mythical beasts.

The cultivation culture here was entirely different from that of the seven kingdoms region, including their understanding of magic and divine abilities. Although it wasn’t at a very high level, after strolling around for a while, Chen Luo still gained quite a bit of knowledge. His external brain also ‘learned’ more information, broadening his horizons.

He had come here to inquire about news regarding Blackstone City, as well as to gain some understanding of the Demonseed Sect. This sect would likely be an opponent in the future, so getting acquainted with them beforehand could be considered preparing for rain before it fell.

After purchasing news about Blackstone City, Chen Luo left the Mountains and Rivers Country.

He was now part of the floating population, having no intention whatsoever to stay long in any one place.

This was a basic quality of rogue cultivators. He had already collected several brains from rogue cultivators, many of whom were at the Foundation Establishment stage. When it came to running away, he could effortlessly draw upon any of these minds for expertise.

In the depths of a valley amidst dense forests, Chen Luo set up a simple maze array.

Then, he took out a Nourishing Pill and consumed it. Cultivation was something accumulated day by day; even during escape, he didn’t forget to practice cultivation.

As the pill entered his abdomen, it dissolved into a spiritual liquid that flowed throughout his entire body. The valley’s spiritual energy, guided by his breathing, transformed into a mountain breeze that rustled the surrounding leaves.

Halfway through his cultivation, feedback from the Core Formation Stage brain in his mind sounded:

Someone is approaching.

Chen Luo opened his eyes and looked outside.

As this person drew near, a dense aura of violence swept out. Chen Luo’s cultivated mountain wind was effortlessly torn apart by a wave of this newcomer’s hand. Under his influence, the valley’s leaves rapidly withered, turning from green to yellow before falling to the ground as dried foliage. Even the branches couldn’t escape, shriveling and decaying into black mud that crumbled to the earth.

“Hand over the Black Stone Secret Art,” commanded the figure upon reaching the valley entrance, halting about fifty meters away from Chen Luo.

“What Black Stone Secret Art? What nonsense!” Chen Luo retorted, his face darkening with a sinister expression. “And who might have allowed you to enter this venerable one’s secluded cultivation grounds?”

A Foundation Establishment aura radiated from him, matching that of his visitor.

He remained puzzled as to how he had betrayed his presence. With countless spells in existence, his current exposure was still far too limited.

“I am Han Lin,” he declared. “That fool Wang Cangxiao didn’t tell you, did he? I was the one who informed him about the Blackstone Secret Technique.” The murderous aura dissipated, revealing a withered face beneath.

Before Chen Luo stood a grotesque old monster: wisps of hair like crane feathers adorned his head, while his skin hung loose as a chicken’s. His body exuded an air of impending doom, clearly marking him as a Foundation Establishment cultivator teetering on death’s doorstep.

“How a mere early Foundation Establishment cultivator managed to snatch that secret technique from that waste Wang Cangxiao is beyond me,” Han Lin continued, “but let me assure you, any trickery will be futile against me.”

As Han Lin spoke, a drop of black liquid dripped from his fingertips onto the ground below.

Zzzt.

The moment it touched down, the liquid rapidly soaked into the soil, emitting a dark smoke that quickly polluted over three hundred meters within seconds. tendrils of toxic gas rose from the earth like ghostly hands. Under their influence, rocks and plants alike began to rot, transforming into gnarled arms reaching out towards Chen Luo.

A poison cultivator!

This lunatic was akin to those who cultivated gu parasites.

With even slight exposure, Chen Luo felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Thankfully, he swiftly sealed his breathing, shutting every pore in his body tight.

“The venom of this venerable one is not something a mere initial Foundation Establishment cultivator like you can withstand.”

Han Lin produced a circular magical device and directed it at Chen Luo. From the ground, masses of toxic gas arms emerged, reaching out towards Chen Luo. Viewed from above, the entire valley seemed as if marked by a giant circle, with Han Lin at its center. Everything around him turned pitch black, as countless arms wildly grasped at the retreating Chen Luo.

As Chen Luo ascended into the air, he extended his hand.

Lin Feng’s soul banner appeared in his grasp. Having mastered Lin Feng’s soul-refining techniques over time, Chen Luo now had the perfect opportunity to let Lin Feng’s intellect shine.

With a wave of the soul banner, Master Lin Feng’s banesoul flew forth first, followed by seven more banesouls scattering in different directions. They formed a surreal tableau against the backdrop of Poisonous Hand Valley.

The fastest banesoul ignored the toxic mist arms entirely, striking Han Lin with pinpoint precision. Strangely, instead of draining Han Lin’s life essence, the banesoul caused the flesh color on Han Lin’s face to gradually fade away. The pigment of his clothes vanished too, until he dissolved into a pool of intensely toxic, jet-black liquid, dripping slowly to the ground.

The banesouls that had failed to penetrate him now circled aimlessly around the ground.

“Soul Refiner,” Chen Luo muttered. “No wonder he’s so arrogant.”

On the other side of the valley, Han Lin rose once again from the toxic fumes, his movements looking quite bizarre.

An illusion?

With his powerful divine sense, Chen Luo immediately saw through Han Lin’s trick. After absorbing Lin Feng and the others, he was even stronger than when he had faced Wang Cangxiao.

Even a top-tier Mid Foundation Establishment cultivator like Han Lin didn’t intimidate him.

His divine sense spread out, quickly locking onto a specific location.

“Flame Fire Incantation!”

He waved his hand, transforming his spiritual energy into a swirling inferno in the shape of a dragon, which then plummeted towards the ground below.

Boom!

The flames exploded, sending a wave of heat rolling out. The poisonous terrain below, hit by the Flame Fire Incantation, released massive amounts of purple toxic smoke into the air.

Chen Luo’s eyes flickered as he instinctively took half a step back.

Suddenly, a hand appeared behind Chen Luo, its toxic palm bearing down on the back of his head.

It’s the true body.

In the external brain, the Core Formation brain fed back just two words.

Chen Luo swiftly turned around, Yin Thunder crackling in his hand as he lunged towards Han Lin’s face. Forget about that toxic divine ability! If I take out this guy and use his brain to help me detoxify, problem solved!

The Yin Thunder exploded, arcs of electricity forming an umbrella-like shape in Chen Luo’s left palm before slamming into Han Lin’s visage.

With a deafening boom, the twisted electric arcs slithered into Han Lin’s features like venomous snakes. The ferocious Yin Thunder coalesced into a sphere, its center between the two combatants, sweeping away the surrounding toxic fog. Under the might of this thunder magic, even gods and ghosts would retreat.

Han Lin, his face caught in Chen Luo’s grip, let out a muffled groan. He hadn’t anticipated Chen Luo’s mastery of thunder techniques and now paid dearly for his oversight.

Having scored a hit, Chen Luo extended his other arm, waving the soul banner to summon the eight banesouls back together, directing them once more towards Han Lin.

Han Lin’s expression finally shifted; he realized he may have underestimated his opponent. His skin contorted as if possessed, the charred flesh from the Yin Thunder bizarrely peeled off his face. Simultaneously, massive amounts of toxic mist billowed from his body, and five white skulls materialized in his hands.

Naturally, Chen Luo wouldn’t give him a chance to escape. Increasing the power in his grasp, he unleashed another burst of Yin Thunder.

At this critical moment, hovering on the precipice between life and death, a sudden thought emerged:

The voice emanated from Han Lin’s desiccated brain.

“Someone has cast a spell on you!”

Chen Luo’s expression shifted instantly. The yin thunder in his hand faltered, causing the charging banesouls to lose their focus. Influenced by Han Lin’s toxic skull, they veered off course, with Lin Feng’s shizun emitting the loudest roar.

Thud!

With a dull impact, Chen Luo’s chest was struck by Han Lin’s toxic skull. His body flew through the air before crashing to the ground. Pitch-black venom swiftly seeped into his flesh, disrupting his spiritual energy circulation.

In Blackstone City, within the Demonseed Sect, an elderly man with a cold, sinister face sat cross-legged in a room. The walls were adorned with numerous peeled-off human faces, each bearing peculiar expressions—some smiled while others wept. These visages didn’t appear lifeless but seemed to harbor emotions akin to living beings.

The old man held a face contorted with hatred and fury. It belonged to Yue Qingshan, once the younger brother of Yue Qingping from the Yue Clan. Desperate for survival, she had surrendered her brother to the powerful cultivators of the Demonseed Sect, allowing herself to escape alone.

Little did she know that the old man she’d encountered was none other than the sect leader himself. Her so-called ‘escape’ had been merely a ploy to unlock the restrictions of the Blackstone Secret Technique, all while sowing demonic seeds within her body as a bonus.