Chapter 3501 — The Five Miasma Divine Art

In truth, most who came here—Inheritors included—hoped to use the crushing pressure of the dense Five Miasma Qi to break through their limits. Ordinary cultivators sought to surpass themselves; Inheritors sought to empower their own legacies.

The so-called Five Miasma Qi was in fact a kind of demonic qi similar to heaven-and-earth spiritual qi, yet fundamentally different. Spiritual qi was universal, but the Five Miasma Qi was not. It was a mixture of true qi of the five attributes—metal, wood, water, fire, and earth—and such true qi was called demonic qi.

Because it carried five attributes at once, a normal cultivator could never absorb or use it. To draw in the qi of one's own attribute meant simultaneously drawing in the true qi of the other four—and the consequences ranged from qi deviation at best to the body bursting apart at worst.

Of course, in the Five Miasma Wasteland this was not a grave matter: so long as one did not cultivate, there was no problem. But the Five Miasma Mountains were another story. Here, even if you did not cultivate, the Five Miasma Qi came hissing into your body of its own accord—you could not simply refuse it.

Thus you were forced to fight the Five Miasma Qi with everything you had, to resist its oppressive force, and to break through your limits in that struggle, raising your own strength.

The same principle applied to Inheritors. They too relied on their formidable five-element attributes to withstand the Five Miasma Qi, and in doing so to reinforce the legacy of their own attribute.

Apart from them, the only ones untouched were likely five-element cultivators like Wei Zhao and a handful of demonic cultivators—Zhang Naipao, for instance. The Bee-Devouring Divine Art he practiced could absorb all manner of true qi, demonic qi, and even poison, refining them into true qi for his own cultivation.

Years ago he had trained amid swarms of poisonous bees and toxic venoms, and now the Tomorrow Upon Tomorrow sect called him a walking antidote pill. If the food was poisoned, one need only have Zhang Naipao take a sniff; if someone was poisoned, again one need only have Zhang Naipao take a sniff.

So in the Five Miasma Wasteland, Zhang Naipao was not only unaffected—he could even cultivate. That was precisely why he had shone so brilliantly in the Mystic Pill Sect trial last time.

Dongfang Badao, by contrast, stood alone and weak, and he well knew the perils of this trial. On the road he had encountered two formidable experts of the Tomorrow Upon Tomorrow sect—though he still burned with hatred for Zhang Naipao, who had once killed his grandson.

But Dongfang Badao was a man of deep scheming. He knew he was no match for Zhang Naipao at all—not even worth a spar—so he chose to submit outright and become a humble follower of Zhang Naipao and Zhong Yongliang.

By comparison, he loathed Wei Zhao far more. Dongfang Bushu, after all, had died in a trial, and trials were a matter of life and death left to fate—no blame could be laid at the feet of other trial takers. Wei Zhao was different: that had happened in the secular world, and he had killed more than one expert of the Dongfang family. The Dongfang family had once counted ten Heaven-rank experts; six had died untimely deaths, leaving only Dongfang Badao and Dongfang Jinxing, and two of those remaining were not even of the family proper but retained elder guests.

The Dongfang family had plummeted straight from the pinnacle of ancient sects to the dust. After all, apart from the Ice Palace and the Five Luminaries Sect, most ancient sects and families had only two or three Heaven-rank experts—the Night Palace and the ancient Feng family, for instance, had pitifully few, only one or two apiece before Gu Mengyao and Feng Shihua broke through.

The Dongfang family had thus been a leading power—and Wei Zhao had beaten it into a crippled, bottom-tier clan. How could Dongfang Badao not seethe with fury and venomous hate? So the moment he found an opportunity, he would kill Wei Zhao.

Dongfang Badao had also learned that both Zhang Naipao and Zhong Yongliang bore grudges against Wei Zhao. They had already joined forces once to besiege the three ancestors of the Blood-Robed Yellow Springs Sect, so he did not mind joining forces a second time.

That brat Wei Zhao had paid a fortune to hire bodyguards from the Blood-Robed Yellow Springs Sect. In the secular world, Dongfang Badao had not dared to touch him; later, when Wei Zhao advanced in rank, he dared even less. But in a trial it was different—if one died in a trial, who would care?

Surely even the Blood-Robed Yellow Springs Sect could not run into the trial to protect Wei Zhao? Besides, thinking back on it, they had all been so shaken by those fellows called the Twin Vajras that they had overlooked Wei Zhao's presence.

Now, on careful reflection, even if Wei Zhao had money and could hire the Blood-Robed Yellow Springs Sect, he could hardly keep them as bodyguards at every hour of every day. Had they struck him down then, before he advanced, all this trouble would never have arisen.

Ah—one step slow, and every step after is slow! Now he pinned his hopes on Zhang Naipao and Zhong Yongliang. Along the way he had learned that Zhong Yongliang was the reincarnated legacy of the Mad Dragon Ancestor of the Tomorrow Upon Tomorrow sect, which only deepened his confidence that Wei Zhao could be killed.

As for the other man who had joined them, he was the Fawu Boxer of the Divine Fist Hall. He had come seeking Zhang Naipao to avenge his pitiful disciple, only to be subdued by Zhang Naipao at the first encounter, left in a state worse than death. Now he could not voice his suffering: Zhang Naipao had driven a poisonous qi into his body, and could at any moment make it flare up and leave him in agony.

This poisonous qi was in fact a special true qi transformed through the Bee-Devouring Divine Art working in concert with the Chrysanthemum Treasury, akin to mother-and-child true qi. Zhang Naipao could project it into another's body and thereby control that person.

Imagine: should the man disobey, Zhang Naipao need only trigger the poison, and he would writhe in unbearable pain, unable to summon the slightest strength—and at such a moment, a sneak attack would mean certain death.

Of course, this trick had lasting effect only on external-school experts. Internal-school experts who cultivated true qi, once they reached the Heaven rank, could dissolve it themselves—it was merely a question of how long it took.

But if they could not dissolve it at the time, it was bound to have some effect, briefly robbing a person of the ability to attack. So the move was ruthless and formidable indeed, and only Zhang Naipao, who cultivated both the Chrysanthemum Treasury and the Bee-Devouring Divine Art, could unleash it—both were indispensable.

Thus the Fawu Boxer of the Divine Fist Hall was temporarily held in Zhang Naipao's grip. He was an external-school expert with no true qi in his body, utterly unable to dissolve Zhang Naipao's poisonous true qi; so long as Zhang Naipao was within a hundred meters of him, he could stir the true qi inside him to flare, leaving him in ecstasy and agony by turns, wishing for death.