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68. Bloodthirsty Demonic Cultivators
🕑 Added 2021-12-04 18:30:01 +0000 UTCHui walked slowly through the mist, sliding a foot in front of him before he took a step. Mist pressed close all around, preventing him from seeing more than five feet in any direction. Even the ground was obscured by mist, as if he were walking in a gray cloud. That hole should be right in front of me, but… I don’t feel it.
Maybe the mist turned us around, or maybe it’s a pseudo-realm. Still, I’m not going to run ahead until I know. I don’t want to fall into a lotus-pill bloom. I don’t know what that would do, but it doesn’t sound good! I’d end up with a lotus blossoming out of my eyeballs before I knew it!
“Welcome to the Blood-Mist Trial,” a deep voice intoned.
“Ah? It’s got instructions?” Hui asked. He stood still, listening earnestly.
“Herein, you face every being you have ever killed. I accept only the strongest into my Blood-Mist Sect. If you killed by trickery or schemes and accumulated your blood qi that way, prepare to face your worst enemies head-on at the height of their strength. I have no need of cowardly cultivators who kill through falsehoods and tricks.”
“Er… can this cowardly cultivator give up?” Hui asked, raising a hand.
“There are two ways out of this trial realm: to defeat your strongest hundred enemies once more, or die. I accept no surrender. Any rats who try to worm their way into my Blood-Mist Sect can die a rat’s death here!”
“Ah,” Hui said.
“Face your sins head-on! Stand at the top by brutal strength alone! I accept no less in Blood-Mist Sect!”
Hui swallowed. What a dangerous trial. Even if I were a heavenly sword cultivator, could I confidently say I could defeat a hundred of my enemies back to back, with no rest? The only rational way to approach this trial is to cultivate to another realm immediately before entering it, but it’s not like Erlan is going to sit around and wait for us to do that!
Wait. Hold up. Have I killed anyone directly? He frowned, a hand on his chin. He did say ‘accumulated your blood qi,’ which implies that there is some qi attached to killing—well, makes sense. That’s the foundation of demonic cultivation.
I don’t get how the trial realm is bringing back our enemies through our ‘blood qi,’ but then again, it was built by a demonic ancestor. This trial realm clearly operates on laws high above my understanding. But, if we assume that one must kill by their own hand to accumulate blood qi, a reasonable assumption, then… my hands are bloodless!
I forced Chang Bolin to have a qi deviation, but I didn’t land the killing blow. I ordered Bai Xue to attack those Mysterious Heavenly Forest Sect cultivators, but I didn’t crush their heads myself. The triplet… I don’t know if he survived, but I can take one triplet, probably.
He winced and bowed in the direction of Bai Xue’s voice. Er, sorry about those extra two deaths on your hands, Bai Xue, but… you can handle it better than this small cultivator, I’m sure!
Scanning the floor ahead of him with his foot, he cautiously proceeded onward. Occasionally, the mist thickened into a wall ahead of him, and he was forced to turn away. On and on, winding through the mist, until at last he reached a wide open space. Here, the mist fell away, allowing him to see twenty or fifty feet in each direction before it faded away.
In the middle of the field stood a duck.
Hui blinked. “What?”
The duck quacked at him angrily. Colorless, its body glowed a faint white, outlined in translucent white. It waddled heavily toward him, chubby and thick, a furious glint in its eye.
“Wait… Fatty?” Hui guessed.
The duck let out a war quack and flew at his face, claws spread wide.
“Fatty, no! I’m sorry! I’m working hard to repay your master for you, there’s no need to—” Hui threw himself out of the way. Fatty flapped past him. Icy cold slashed over Hui’s face, and a thin gash opened up on Hui’s cheek.
He’s serious! Wiping the blood away, Hui drew his sword and turned to face the duck. “I’m sorry, Fatty, but you leave me no choice!”
The two circled one another. Pivoting slowly, Fatty let out a fearsome hiss, narrowing his beady eyes at Hui. Hui paced around Fatty, watching him closely.
Fatty lunged. Tensing, Hui sliced at him. Apologies, Sect Master! It was to save my poor little life this time!
His sword passed through Fatty. Fatty rushed past his sword and nipped his waist.
“Huh? I can’t hit you, but you can hit me?” Hui asked.
Fatty’s eyes glinted. He waggled his tail and opened his beak wide, smug.
Demonic ancestor! How is this fair?
Wait, he is a demonic ancestor. I shouldn’t expect it to be fair.
Fatty jumped at Hui again, claws, beak, and wings all going. Hui staggered back, wildly flailing at the duck. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t touch the duck. His sword and hands passed through Fatty with no resistance.
Wings buffeted his face. Claws cut at his neck and chest. Fatty bit his face, scoring marks in his nose, his cheeks, lunging at his eyes. He twisted his beak and got ahold of a strand of hair, plucking at Hui’s roots.
“Not my hair!” Hui darted back away from the duck, hands over his forehead. Don’t destroy my handsome face! Master might abandon me!
Fatty fell to the floor. Flaring his wings, he chased after Hui.
“Apologies! Fatty, forgive me! I’ll never eat duck… for another few days, at least!” Hui promised, running into the mist.
Fatty hissed and quacked.
“Weeks?” Hui tried.
Fatty lunged again.
The second the duck’s beak impacted his throat, Hui fell backward. With practiced ease, he killed his qi and circulated death qi in his dantian, masking what little signal remained. There, you killed me! Leave me alone!
Fatty hesitated. He bit harder, clenching down on Hui’s throat. Distant pain radiated from his jugular, but he didn’t move. Argh, that’s going to hurt when I come back up!
Tenacious, Fatty dug in deeper. Hui’s head pounded. His body ached, wanting to move, wanting qi. Get off me, duck! I’m dead! Leave me alone!
Still the duck bit deeper. Fatty shook his head, desperately trying to tear into Hui.
At last, Hui could hold his breath no longer. He bolted upright and sucked in a breath. Fatty still clung to his neck, repeatedly biting him with his beak.
Qi raged into him, not the usual kind, but something more vicious, something that burned in his veins. The qi threatened to burst his passageways, too much to sit still and analyze it. He quickly circulated it, biting his lip. What is this, blood qi? Get out! I’m not a demonic cultivator!
The blood qi roiled inside him, boiling in his veins. Biting his lip against the pain, Hui focused and tried to guide it out of his body. It followed his guidance, but refused to leave his body. It clung to his blood and flesh, staining him, burning into him.
I can’t get rid of it. I have to circulate it. Hopefully it works like regular qi!
…Er, don’t judge me, please, fellow cultivators! This small cultivator is not a demonic cultivator, okay? I had no choice!
Taking the lotus position, Hui circulated the blood qi. It burned through his passageways, almost as painful as the duck savaging his neck. Too overwhelmed by the rush of qi to fight Fatty, Hui tensed and poured the blood qi at his next meridian. It burst open, relieving the overwhelming rush of qi. As before, the qi quieted and joined the rest of his qi flow, circulating calmly.
One meridian left to go!
Is that blood qi stuck inside me forever, now? Hui reached inside him, searching for the blood qi. After a moment, he found it. His usual qi was blue, glowing faintly in the darkness. The blood qi burned a vicious red, the same cherry-red as hot iron. Curious, he reached out mentally and guided the blood qi through him.
It followed his guidance obediently, no different than his ordinary qi.
Now that I’ve circulated it, I guess it’s part of me. Hui drew out some of the blood qi and summoned it to his palm. Red light shimmered there, willing to leave his body, too.
Hui looked at the red qi, then at Fatty, still desperately biting his neck. Well, can’t hurt. He put his hand on Fatty’s back and poured blood qi into the duck ghost.
Fatty swelled up. Red poured into his body from Hui’s hand, spreading through his back. His translucent white lines turned pink, then red. He popped off Hui and floated in the air, an almost dreamy expression on his face as he drifted to the ground.
Hui stood and backed away. “Did you enjoy that, Elder Brother? Please, take your time and digest that blood qi. I’ll go on ahead, don’t worry—”
The dreamy expression faded away. The red dimmed to a pale pink. Fatty shook his head, caught sight of Hui, then jumped into the air and flew at Hui.
Hui dropped. The duck flapped over him, landed, and whirled, beak wide. He rushed at Hui, but Hui was ready. He leaped Fatty and sprinted ahead.
“I can’t kill you, but I can run from you!” Hui raced across the open space.
At the far end of the space, a narrow passage appeared out of the mist. Hui darted through it.
On the far side, the mist darkened to a pinkish shade. Leaving the hole in the ground aside, Hui sped from the duck. If I fall down the hole, at least I’ll get away from Fatty! I’ll probably survive the fall, but I won’t survive getting pecked to death by a ghost duck!
As for the lotus bloom—I’ll deal with that when I get there!
He smashed into walls, bouncing off the maze’s twisting passages. At the end of the twining maze, he raced out into an open field.
In the middle of the open field stood a spectral duck.
Hui backpedaled desperately. Wait. But he was—did I leave him behind, so the realm respawned him ahead of me?
A fearsome quack sounded from behind Hui. Fatty rounded the corner and burst through the mist maze after him. At the same time, the duck in front of him flared his wings and charged.
Two Fatties? Have pity on this small cultivator, demonic ancestor!
Hui glanced back, then ahead. Two ducks charged at him from either side. He assumed a defensive stance and waited, glaring.
Each duck inches from his skin, he threw himself aside. The two ducks smacked into each other in a blast of spectral feathers.
They can touch each other! Maybe I can—
The Fatties shook their heads, clambered back to their feet, and raced at him as one, instantly putting their difficulties behind them.
Never mind!
Hui raced on, sprinting for the opening on the far side. Around him, the pink mist darkened a shade, growing redder.
I can’t touch them. I can’t hurt them. All I can do is run! Maybe I’ll run into Li Xiang or Bai Xue, or—or maybe there’s an exit, or—something, anything! Surely the demonic ancestor didn’t expect every entrant to his Blood Mist Sect to be able to handle ghosts?
Argh, but he’s a demonic ancestor! Maybe he did! Ghost handling is much more common in demonic cultivation than it is in righteous.
If only I came from one of those exorcist righteous sects! If only I ate ghosts for breakfast and burned undead for lunch! I—
Hui paused, looking at his hands. Wait a second. Demonic sects. Ghost handling. Death qi.
I wonder…
