Chapter 19: Skin Deep
Chapter 19: Skin Deep
“You really want to learn these forbidden techniques?”
Seeing Lv Yang’s eager expression, Wang Borong couldn’t hide his surprise. “Junior Brother, cultivation is about cultivating the Dao first. Don’t lose sight of what matters,” he warned.
In his eyes, Lv Yang had already earned an extraordinary amount of Contribution Points for someone so young. At this rate, even if Foundation Building seemed distant, reaching the peak of Refining Qi was entirely feasible. Why risk everything for dangerous, side-effect-laden techniques? Even if they granted immense power, what good was that if it ended in an early grave?
“Life is short—don’t waste it.” Wang’s voice softened, almost mournful. “You’re young now, but you don’t understand—flowers bloom again, but youth never returns.”
“You may feel strong today, but what about ten years from now? Twenty?” Wang shook his head. “This choice might feel right now, but decades later, you’ll see its cost. And by then, there’ll be no turning back.”
His voice trailed off, lost in memory. After a long silence, he murmured, “You don’t know how it was for me. In my youth, I was the pride of the Holy Sect. But one misstep—just one—ruined everything. Even now, the regret still cuts deeper than any blade.”
His eyes glistened. Drunk on nostalgia, he gripped Lv Yang’s sleeve, recounting his past.
It wasn’t much—just youthful arrogance. He’d underestimated the importance of True Qi Rank, seizing on a low-tier cultivation technique without thinking. The result? A shattered Foundation, a Refining Qi cultivation that would never reach completion.
Decades later, while his peers and the women he’d once admired extended their lives, he’d become a half-buried relic. Regret festered like an open wound. But what could he do? Life offered no second chances.
“Wait—can I get a second chance? Then never mind.”
As Wang passed out, Lv Yang stood, retrieving the Heavenly Demon Blood Transformation Beam as described.
No doubt—it was a demonic art.
He unrolled the scroll, frowning. “Rapid power, catastrophic risks. Every hallmark of a forbidden technique.”
To master it, one had to select a weapon, flay their own skin alive, and refine the blood over eighty-one days into a deadly crimson light. The weapon became a death sentence for any cultivator who touched it.
“The practitioner becomes a blood shadow bound to the weapon.”
“As long as the weapon survives, the shadow endures.”
“But the cost is halved lifespan, and the loss of human form. Cultivation stagnates forever.”
Lv Yang’s eyes gleamed. “Perfect.”
As he began practicing, he discovered an alternate version—an optimized revision by some ancient expert. Instead of self-sacrifice, it allowed using blood relatives as sacrifices.
“Convenient, but flawed,” he mused. “Their blood shadows would rebel against foreign control. But for me? This life or the next—my shadow, my rules.”
Days later, Lv Yang left the Scriptorium. He also paid in full for the Divine Thunder Sword Art—a technique he’d soon wield openly.
The next morning, the cultivation manual arrived.
“Monster!” Yun Miaoqing spat, gripping the sword at her throat, defiance in her eyes.
Lv Yang paused, a flicker of déjà vu passing—then dismissed it.
“Sorry, but I need your sword-core refinement knowledge.”
Before she could protest, he drew the knowledge from her forcefully, his experience with her making the process swift.
Zipping up, he turned away.
Next stop: Ten Thousand Treasures Peak, the Holy Sect’s legendary forge.
“I need an Earthfire Furnace.”
At the counter, he paid his Contribution Points and was escorted to the premium furnace chamber within fifteen minutes.
He laid out his materials: three ounces of Gold Essence, three of Jade Marrow, two of Cinnabar, two of Sword Qi. Channeling earth-core fire, he fed them all into the flames.
“Jade Pivot Sword Pavilion disciples usually have elders craft their sword cores, but this is the Primordial Sacred Sect. Better to trust my own hands than someone else’s morals.”
Each set cost 2,000 Contribution Points. With only 10,000 total, after buying techniques and repaying debts, he had three attempts left.
“If all three fail, I’ll try again in my next life.”
He followed Yun Miaoqing’s methods precisely. Gold Essence fused with Jade Marrow, Cinnabar merged with Sword Qi.
A nascent sword core formed—then exploded.
Lv Yang swept the debris aside calmly. “My steps were flawless. The problem’s in the final stage.”
Reviewing Yun’s memories, realization struck: “Sword-core refinement requires harmony between sword and soul. My Divine Thunder Sword Art cultivation is still shallow.”
A dead end—for orthodox cultivators.
But the demonic path had no such limits.
“If the goal is control, synchronizing with the Heavenly Demon Blood Transformation Beam should work equally well—better, even.”
The demonic technique fused practitioner and weapon completely, surpassing mere “soul harmony.”
“But that means no Mafeisan.”
Painkillers dulled reflexes. One misstep, and another failure would follow.
He needed full awareness.
“True demonic cultivation demands cruelty—to oneself most of all.”
A cloth between his teeth, he sat before the furnace. As the sword core formed anew, he directed his sword qi inward—
(End of Chapter)
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