Chapter 93: Li Yan of Three Spiritual Roots
Chapter 93: Li Yan of Three Spiritual Roots
While the Qi Condensation disciples of the Wraith Sect were engaged in competition, at a secluded courtyard in the Ten-Step Court, a young cultivator bearing a massive sword case on his back quietly conversed with two guards outside the gate. After exchanging a few words, he pushed the door open and entered.
Inside the courtyard, towering trees shaded the area with a cool, tranquil canopy. It was a four-sided compound, entirely devoid of people. Numerous spiritual herbs had been planted across the courtyard, separated neatly into verdant plots, vibrant and lush.
A gentle breeze carried a refreshing fragrance, and the whole place exuded a quiet, elegant charm. Yet the young cultivator showed no interest in admiring the scenery. After briefly glancing around to orient himself, he headed straight toward one of the rooms.
Upon entering, he found a chamber of antique grace, delicately carved lattice windows, a somber-toned long table surrounded by several simple yet elegant armchairs, and a refined screen of superior craftsmanship, imbued with the essence of Eastern aesthetics.
Without pause, the cultivator walked behind the screen, where a bookshelf stood filled with upright volumes of ancient texts. He reached out, picked up one of the tomes, and began flipping through it intently.
Whenever he reached a specific page, he would gather spiritual energy in his finger and tap a certain character. Each time he did, the tapped character would ripple like water before vanishing from the line entirely, rendering it incomplete and unreadable.
Page after page, tap after tap, one character after another vanished. When he had tapped thirteen times, the entire tome dissolved into a flash of violet light and disappeared.
In that moment, the bookshelf before him twisted and warped, revealing a swirling black vortex suffused with a faint purple glow. It rotated slowly, as though leading into endless void. The sword-bearing cultivator stepped in without hesitation and vanished instantly.
The vortex faded as it spun, and the bookshelf returned to its original form, the ancient tomes on its shelves still standing neatly in place.
Beneath a gray sky, barren gray mountains stretched endlessly, jagged peaks rising like frozen waves…
Atop one such mountain, the air rippled and the sword-bearing cultivator emerged. Ahead of him, on the edge of a cliff, stood a sharp-eyed young man with sword-like brows and a poised demeanor, gazing distantly toward the horizon with hands clasped behind his back.
“Senior Brother, Elder Xing asked me to inform you that the Wraith Sect has indeed proposed sending Qi Condensation disciples into the Wheel of Life and Death. The selection has already begun.”
The cultivator approached and spoke respectfully. Lifting his eyes slightly, he saw that the sword-browed youth showed no surprise at all.
“Oh? So they’ve taken the bait?” the youth replied blandly, his tone calm and unreadable.
“Should we inform the other Senior Brothers from Grand Profound Sect and Pure Land Sect?” the sword-bearer asked cautiously.
“Them? They’re still lost in those few trials and haven’t emerged yet. I’ll tell them when the time comes.”
The youth’s voice remained even, though his gaze stretched further into the distance.
Following his gaze, the sword-bearing cultivator saw, among the endless gray mountains, faint roars echoing intermittently, accompanied by flashing waves of spiritual energy in the skies.
Further down their own peak, dozens of fierce-looking cultivators stood in silence. Each radiated a bloody, murderous aura. Their gray robes were torn in places, stained with blood. Every one of them stood expressionless, their spiritual pressure all at the peak of tenth level Qi Condensation....
Li Yan stood silently, twenty zhang away from a discolored-faced cultivator from Boundless Peak, who stared at him warily. Above the man’s head, a buzzing swarm of spirit insects hovered, yet made no move to attack.
Li Yan's face remained blank, his posture still. Suddenly, the stone platform beneath the opposing cultivator’s feet sank, an ambush! Yet the man was prepared and sprang into the air just in time, sending his insect swarm darting toward Li Yan.
But in that instant, a dense cloud of yellow sand cascaded from above, engulfing the insect swarm. The insects let out piercing shrieks, struggling within the sandstorm as they flew toward Li Yan, only to falter and begin dropping mid-flight.
The Boundless Peak cultivator, having evaded the Flowing Sand Spell beneath him, drifted several zhang to the side. But just as he landed, a sudden chill raced up his spine. Without time to react, a puff of smoke had already slithered up his trouser leg.
“Not good!” he cried.
Frantically slapping his storage pouch, he pulled out a medicinal pill and swallowed it. Yet in mere heartbeats, a searing pain twisted through his chest. Screaming, he dropped the pill bottle, his pupils turning a stark, lifeless white.
At that moment, with a blue flickering light the overseeing Foundation Establishment cultivator appeared and swiftly knocked the poisoned man unconscious. With a wave of his sleeve, the remaining insect swarm and the burrowing venomous bugs vanished from the scene.
Glancing once at Li Yan, the overseer declared, “Thirty-Three victory,” before hauling the unconscious man toward the floating sky pavilion. Though he said nothing else, frustration churned in his chest.
Every time this boy steps onto a platform, regardless of which one, the opponent inevitably ends up poisoned and most of them need to be sent to Core Formation elders for detoxification.
Granted, some of the toxins could still be purged with spiritual energy or common antidotes, but even Foundation Establishment cultivators struggled to neutralize in time. Worse still, this kid only knows how to poison, not how to cure.
Down below, waves of murmurs rose from every direction. It was clear that more and more spectators had begun following Li Yan’s matches. His repeated use of the Twelve Fractured Poisons had already drawn widespread attention.
“That little martial uncle won again! Could it be that no one, even those with higher realm can't defeat him?” someone whispered in awe.
“Come on,” replied a more experienced cultivator. “He’s lost a few matches too. But it’s true, anyone below the tenth level of Qi Condensation can hardly stand a chance against him.”
"You're right, Senior Brother. In the few matches he lost, his opponents were all at the peak of tenth level. He usually admits defeat shortly after the fight begins," another cultivator remarked bluntly.
"That's being smart, he knows he's no match and he won't go for a hard fight to avoid getting hurt! But this guy is truly uncanny. His divine sense-controlled poison is completely invisible, he's already taken down over a dozen senior brothers with it."
"What's more bizarre is his cultivation. Clearly just mid sixth level, yet he can hold off opponents at the early or even mid-tenth level. His spiritual power must be incredibly deep."
"He’s probably late seventh level. I heard from a Foundation Establishment martial uncle that he has a technique to conceal his true cultivation. We just can’t see through it. But even so, as you said, it’s unnatural. Normally, someone at the seventh level wouldn't last long against someone from the eighth."
...
Li Yan returned calmly to the Little Bamboo Peak's designated area. Wei Chituo and the others greeted him with familiar nods and smiles. Li Yan smiled back politely before quickly sitting cross-legged to recover.
As the number of participants dwindled, matches were becoming more frequent. He had to seize every moment to restore his spiritual power.
What he failed to notice was a pair of curious, beautiful eyes watching him with growing interest.
Over the past few days, Li Yan had fully immersed himself in combat, his movements becoming increasingly fluid and instinctive. His coordination of Guishui True Scripture and Twelve Fractured Poisons became more seamless. But aside from occasionally using earth-element techniques, he kept his other elemental affinities hidden.
This led many to assume he had a tri-element spiritual root: water, wood, and earth. Aside from a few who knew the truth, only the Core Formation elders of each peak were aware of his mixed spiritual roots and they certainly weren’t about to spread rumors over a mere Qi Condensation disciple.
What truly unsettled his opponents was his ability to manipulate poison with his divine sense. Wherever Li Yan tread, there was a chance he'd left a hidden poison trap, whether triggered through underground “Flowing Sand Technique,” airborne “Raincloud Technique,” or wind-carried “Wind Blade Technique.”
This drove his opponents to despair. The more cautious and paranoid they became, the easier it was for Li Yan to catch them off guard.
He had even developed a routine tactic: as soon as the match began, he would dart around the arena in erratic flight patterns. His opponent would curse him for his shamelessness, never knowing where he might have laid his traps.
This forced them to have protective aura constantly activated and continuously release their divine sense, staying on high alert to avoid any area Li Yan had touched.
They could attempt to lay poisons too but those would either dissipate quickly or vanish outright. Blanketing the arena in poison was also out of the question: they didn’t have the resources or the spiritual power to pull it off.
Thus, while sustaining spiritual energy defense and constant divine sense surveillance, their only hope was to defeat Li Yan quickly. If not, Li Yan could simply keep his distance and wait them out, eventually, they'd exhaust themselves.
Worse, his evasive and defensive style was maddening. His water curtain couldn’t be breached easily, and his alternating use of Earth Escape and Flowing Sand Technique kept enemies from getting close.
That Boundless Peak cultivator earlier had launched a barrage of powerful spells right at the start, but even in a tight spot, Li Yan managed to endure. Then his sandstorm blocked the oncoming swarm of insects.
Though several gu worms slipped through, they ended up trembling and paralyzed in the mist. As they fell, they turned into lumps of gray goo. Dead or alive, it was hard to tell.
In that cultivator’s memory, Li Yan had seemingly walked every inch of the battle platform. Despite his earlier efforts to probe with divine sense and his constant use of protective aura, by the end, his mind and body were completely drained, making him fall victim to Li Yan’s divine sense-controlled poison anyway.
The Foundation Establishment cultivators overseeing the fights knew well: if any symptoms of certain poisons showed up, the match was over. They’d immediately appear in the arena to knock the person out cold.
Now, Qi Condensation disciples across the peaks were paying even more attention to Li Yan. Many cursed him for his shamelessness but none dared claim they could defeat him within a few exchanges.
What they didn’t know was that, among the Twelve Fractured Poisons, only two could be controlled via divine sense.
The first was the one he used against Zhou Guan’er, causing the victim to lose all reason, eyes turning pure white, attacking anything in sight. He named it “Lingering Glance” which later made cultivators curse his shamelessness even more, thinking: Glance your damn sister!
The second was called “Soaring Melody” a poison that seeped through plant stems and flesh pores, dissolving a body from the inside out, turning it into a pool of black water.
But this poison was far too vicious. Li Yan didn’t dare use it during the tournament, if unleashed the opponent might not survive long enough for a Core Formation elder to save them. And he certainly didn’t know how to cure it himself.
Meanwhile, Li Changting kicked at the ground, her slender, fair calves occasionally peeking out from beneath her flowing robe.
“That guy’s interesting. Even the mid tenth level Ding Zhi lost to him. Junior Sister Min, I think one day he might even catch up to my Wuyi.”
Zhao Min shivered internally, thinking, "You and your aunt both speak with no filter. Especially the way your aunt looks at Wei Chongran..."
She glanced at Li Changting.
“Senior Sister Li, that brat doesn’t hold a candle to Li Wuyi. He’s not ruthless enough. When Wuyi first entered the Qi Condensation tournament, who walked away unscathed? I do hope that kid gets into the Death Wheel, though. Maybe then he’ll really let loose.”
Zhao Min had a feeling that Li Yan still had cards he hadn’t played. If he did, even a peak tenth-level cultivator might not walk away unscathed.
“Mmm-hmm-hmm~ My Wuyi is such a man. I just love how fake-humble he acts~” Li Changting cooed.
Zhao Min rolled her eyes, visibly shuddering.
The moon waned and rose, the sun set and returned, two more days passed. When the great moon climbed to its zenith, the tournament entered its final stage, with only 140 cultivators remaining.
Li Yan stared at the crystal panel as blue light danced across its surface, gradually forming two lines of glowing script.
At the same time, a voice rang in his ear:
"Match confirmed. Platform Seventeen. Thirty-Three vs Four-Fundred-Five."
(Chapter End)