The desolate wasteland was strewn with withered tombs, bleak and forlorn.
Tattered white soul-guiding banners swayed listlessly in the wind, their fabric long decayed and discolored with time. The remaining poles were nothing more than dead branches jutting from mounds of earth.
Broken mats. Splintered coffins.
The corpses, dragged out by starving wild dogs, lay strewn haphazardly in the ditches.
Zhao Shixian stood at the edge of the mass grave with a glint of delight in his eyes. He could feel it, the presence of baleful Yin energy.
There was no doubt. Somewhere here, a naturally-formed ghost spirit must be lurking.
If he was lucky, he might even capture a soul at the early stage of Qi Refining to empower his Revered Soul Banner.
“If I can capture just one more ghostly spirit... I’ll have the edge against my pursuers,” Zhao Shixian murmured.
He had come here with injuries. Clearly, he was being hunted. If not, he wouldn't have risked everything to erect a blood sacrifice formation and refine the villagers, young and old, into nourishing essence.
He had hoped to forge a mid-grade magical tool from their blood and souls. But in the end, he had only produced a low-grade one.
Within the Revered Soul Banner, Tu Shanjun's eyes gleamed faintly.
That confirmed his suspicion.
No wonder Zhao Shixian looked so ragged when he arrived, torn robes, bloodstains… It was clear he had been through a deadly battle.
Judging by his urgency, his pursuers couldn't be far behind.
Zhao Shixian carefully retrieved a few pieces of spirit stones from a battered storage talisman.
Refined with mana, these stones served as the foundation for a formation array.
He didn’t need much expertise in formations, just follow the blueprint, and he could set up a small Baleful Qi Gathering Formation.
Once the stones were placed, Zhao Shixian brought forth the Revered Soul Banner.
With a wave, the banner unfurled, growing to over a zhang in height. Black background, crimson edges, its surface bore the image of a red-haired, green-faced demon, fangs bared and claws outstretched.
Though the lines were blurred, it seemed ready to crawl out at any moment.
Zhao Shixian planted the banner at the formation’s core.
"Gather the baleful, draw in the Yin, formation rise!"
He chanted in a strange, obscure tongue. Forming seals with his fingers, he guided his mana to flow into the stones like silken threads.
The formation activated.
A wall of spiritual energy formed around him. At the center, the Revered Soul Banner began drawing in the surrounding Yin and baleful energy like a vortex.
Tu Shanjun could feel the influx of demonic energy.
His semi-illusory form was being refined, becoming more solid under the hammering of baleful energy. The banner itself seemed to be evolving, its once-blurred image now sharpening.
From its dark shaft, black grit spilled out. The artifact’s aura surged stronger.
Zhao Shixian looked on, both surprised and delighted.
This was just a minor gathering array, built with stones exchanged from his sect. It wasn’t meant for refining magical tools.
Without spiritual fire, there was no way to temper the magical tool, so why was the banner transforming?
It was as if… it was advancing.
“Would a low-grade Revered Soul Banner undergo such a change?” he murmured, puzzled, as he stepped closer to the towering banner.
He picked up one of the black stones that had been expelled from the soul banner.
It was cold, hard, and rough. Not a material, but an impurity.
Even more confused, Zhao Shixian casually crushed the impurity and stared at the center of the formation.
Even a cultivator could not explain what was happening.
But one thing was clear, something extraordinary was occurring.
“If it can absorb this much, let’s see if there’s a limit,” he muttered.
He brought out several Yin Baleful Stones from his storage talisman, stones buried for over a decade in places steeped in death and evil energy, brimming with Yin baneful qi.
Normally, even in cultivation, he wouldn’t dare absorb them directly. He had to refine them gradually.
But since the Revered Soul Banner was so ravenous, it was worth testing its limits.
Tu Shanjun smirked silently.
Limits?
For him, there was no such thing as too much baleful Qi.
Zhao Shixian had no idea, what he was doing now was nothing short of courting death.
“Not yet… not enough. Wait a little longer,” Tu Shanjun thought, suppressing the hatred boiling in his heart.
It was still too soon. If he acted now, it would only alert his prey.
A sinister smile crept across his ghostly face as he continued to bide his time.
Suddenly, a cold wind rose. Wails echoed.
The lingering spirits, sensing the vanishing Yin baleful energy, finally emerged.
A ghostly figure appeared before the ragged banner, its pitch-black eyes locked on Zhao Shixian.
Unlike the living, the dead had a sharper sense for danger. This one stood vigilantly, fully alert.
From Zhao Shixian’s black-robed figure, it felt an overwhelming pressure.
He met its gaze, calm and composed, eyes gleaming with the scorn of a cultivator. His Spirit-Seer Eyes flared with light.
“A first-layer Qi Refining ghost… capable of spontaneously condensing Yin baleful energy and cultivating to this level, it must have existed here for quite some time already.. Barely worthy of becoming one with my Revered Soul Banner,” he muttered.
The ghost shrieked, not to attack, but to flee.
It knew it was no match for this man.
“Trying to run?”
Zhao Shixian channeled his mana into the banner, then his expression changed drastically.
More than half his third-layer Qi Refining mana vanished in an instant.
The Revered Soul Banner surged with power, the demon etched on its surface grew clearer, its engraved eyes seemingly turning.
As more mana poured in, Tu Shanjun felt his form loosen. He could now step out of the banner.
“I see…” Tu Shanjun understood now.
The primary soul and the banner were one. To move, he needed external mana.
Without it, he was trapped within, and even if he had heavenly abilities, it would be difficult for him to utilize them.
But with mana, he could even send out the souls trapped within to fight, an innate ability of the Revered Soul Banner.
Still, Tu Shanjun didn’t move.
Tempting as it was to step out, he remained seated at the heart of the formation. The influx of baleful Qi not only raised the banner’s grade but also raised his strength directly.
To ensure Zhao Shixian suspected nothing, he had to stay hidden.
“Spirit Lock.”
Zhao Shixian leapt, landing before the ghost in a flash. He unleashed a talisman.
Chanting and forming seals, he triggered the spell.
The ghost turned into black mist and was swiftly sealed inside the talisman.
Zhao Shixian hadn’t needed the help of his banner's primary soul or any captured spirits for this. A mere first-layer ghost posed no threat.
Especially with the banner positioned at the heart of the formation, reckless use might trigger unknown changes.
Soon, the formation’s power waned. Within the time it took to burn a stick of incense, its effects faded entirely.
The demon on the banner now looked almost lifelike, its features more defined, its crimson trim vivid.
Though the shaft was still marred with impurities, it was no longer as cold and rough. Around it lay the remains of crushed impurities and powdered baleful stones.
Even the ghost had been thrown into the banner as nourishment. The graveyard’s decades-worth of Yin and baleful energy had been completely drained.
Zhao Shixian grasped the banner and probed it with his mana.
His pupils contracted. His body shivered.
Even his voice trembled, “A mid-grade magical tool?!”
His eyes turned bloodshot. He gasped heavily, mouth agape.
In stunned disbelief, he stared at the banner in his hands.
Yet he clutched it tightly, as if afraid it might fly away.
A treasure?
No, this was a supreme treasure!
A magical tool that could evolve simply by absorbing baleful Qi. No need for materials, no need for reforging, not even mana nourishment.
If this wasn't a supreme treasure, what was?
With it, he could save vast sums of spirit stones otherwise spent on replacing magical tools. He only needed to nurture this one soul banner, and the resources saved could all go into his cultivation.
As his mana probed deeper, Zhao Shixian could even sense the primary soul’s power rising, at least to the second layer of Qi Refining.
He wanted to laugh aloud but dared not.
Shock, joy, disbelief all mingled on his face.
With such a treasure in hand, even if he had just stepped onto the path of immortality, he now had a real chance of glimpsing the Grand Dao.
Sneaking glances around, he slunk back to the village to clean up all traces of his presence.
Like a thief, afraid to smile yet too pleased not to, terrified of being recognized.
His heart raced. Fear and glee tangled together.
He forced himself to calm down. “Stay steady,” he whispered.
From within the banner, Tu Shanjun watched it all with clarity, and sneered coldly.
(Chapter End)