Chapter 332: From Arrogance to Submission — Utterly Destroyed

"Boy, where exactly is this place? What do you plan to do?" The Plague Elder, upon seeing Lu Qing suddenly appear—especially recognizing at a glance that the figure before him was merely a manifestation of Spirit Soul Power—immediately paled. His heart sank.

His worst fear was confirmed.

This was truly a Spirit Artifact Space.

And not just any Spirit Artifact Space—one under Lu Qing’s control.

Otherwise, with his own cultivation level, he couldn’t possibly have activated such a profound spiritual technique as Spirit Soul Transformation.

"Nothing much," Lu Qing said calmly, eyeing the Plague Elder. "You were the one who boasted earlier, claiming I couldn’t do anything to you. So tell me—what do you think this place is now?"

"Don’t play games," the Plague Elder sneered. "This is just another Spirit Artifact Space. Nothing more."

By now, he knew deception was pointless. There was no sense in pretending anymore.

"Boy, your luck is truly unnatural—just a mere cultivator at the Qi Gathering stage, yet you command two Spirit Artifacts. But such power can’t last. The sheer density of Qi here is like pouring oil on fire. You’ll burn yourself out one day—doomed to eternal destruction."

"Your concern is noted," Lu Qing replied flatly. "Since you’ve realized this is another Spirit Artifact Space, why don’t you take a guess—what artifact is this?"

"No matter which Spirit Artifact it is," the Plague Elder said coldly, "it can’t defeat my Plague Gourd. Boy, I suggest you stop wasting your time. If you truly want to learn about the ancient past, consider my offer. Release me, and I’ll not only reveal the secrets of old times, but also teach you supreme arts. With them, you could achieve the Golden Core, ascend to the Spirit Realm, even become an immortal ancestor!"

"Bold words," Lu Qing scoffed. "So you claim you can make an immortal ancestor of me, Plague Old Ghost? I don’t recall you having such power back then. In the face of the righteous immortal sects, you were nothing but a street rat—hiding in the shadows, never daring to show your face. You only gained a sliver of fame because of that broken gourd. Now you dare speak so arrogantly? How shameless."

Just as the Plague Elder prepared to continue his deception, a mocking voice echoed from all around.

"Who’s there?!"

The Plague Elder’s mind reeled. Someone knew his past—someone from his own era. Could it be the one behind Lu Qing?

His thoughts raced, and then—before he could react—another figure materialized before Lu Qing.

A dignified middle-aged man, clad in a radiant crimson robe, with twin horns rising from his brow, stood before him.

With his arrival, the air’s oppressive heat surged once more—like the very space had recognized its sovereign.

"You’re the Artifact Spirit of this Spirit Artifact Space," the Plague Elder realized instantly, recognizing the being’s essence at once.

His heart sank further.

The presence radiating from this being was far stronger than his own. This Artifact Spirit had recovered much more fully—its fundamental nature far more powerful than his own.

And now, with Lu Qing… the Plague Elder felt a chill crawl up his spine.

"Ah, so you’re afraid now?" The being—Yan—spoke with cold amusement. "Plague Old Ghost. I never thought you’d go so far. To survive the Ten Heavenly Declines Cataclysm, you actually performed Reincarnation Possession—possessing your own Spirit Artifact’s soul. But even if you succeeded, your True Spirit must be severely damaged. Now trapped here, you won’t last long—your True Spirit will collapse, and you won’t even be granted passage into reincarnation."

The Plague Elder’s face twisted in shock.

He had feared this most of all—Lu Qing discovering the truth. And now, Yan had laid it bare.

Still, he forced a sneer. "Is that so? My power is beyond your comprehension, you insignificant Artifact Spirit. Go ahead—wait. See if I collapse after being trapped here for a thousand years!"

"Enough pretense," Yan said, voice icy. "One final question—will you open your True Spirit so I may imprint my Spirit Soul upon it?"

Lu Qing’s voice was cold. "Never," the Plague Elder spat. "You dare ask a mere Qi Gathering cultivator to submit to me? Back then, I could blow through a thousand of your kind with a single breath. Now you think you can subdue a Spirit Realm master? You’re delusional!"

"Good," Lu Qing said simply. Then, without another word, his form dissolved into the Spirit Artifact Space.

Only a single sentence lingered in the air.

"Yan, begin. Burn him to death."

Hearing Lu Qing call him by name, Yan’s heart tightened.

Yet no anger stirred within—only a cold chill creeping through his core.

He moved without hesitation. With a flick of his hand, the Qi space erupted with flame. His body transformed, becoming a blazing Fire Dragon of Lihuo, coiling toward the Plague Gourd.

"Fire Dragon of Lihuo! You’re the Lihuo Ding of the Lihuo Sect!"

The Plague Elder finally understood—this was the space of the Lihuo Ding.

In ancient times, he had never crossed paths with the Lihuo Sect, so he hadn’t recognized the aura. But the Lihuo Ding was legendary across the cultivation world. Its signature attack—spewing a Fire Dragon of Lihuo to scorch everything in its path—was its most famous trait.

Now, seeing Yan’s true form, the Plague Elder knew with dread: he was trapped inside the very heart of a Middle-Grade Spirit Artifact.

And worse—Lihuo Ding was famed for its mastery in refining and alchemy.

It was the very reason the Lihuo Sect had risen to power, producing high-grade Treasures and pills in endless supply.

Now, trapped in this Artifact’s space, the Plague Elder felt his blood run cold.

He regretted his earlier arrogance.

But it was too late.

As the Fire Dragon of Lihuo coiled around his gourd, he instinctively retreated deep into the Plague Gourd’s core, hoping its strange defenses would protect him.

The Plague Gourd had been forged from a mysterious Iron fragment, one he’d fused with his own soul. It possessed abilities even he couldn’t comprehend. Perhaps it could save him.

Flames roared around the gourd, Yan’s Fire Dragon wrapping it tightly.

Yet after half a minute—nothing happened.

The gourd remained untouched, as if the flames didn’t exist.

"What?!" Yan’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Even weakened, he was still a Middle-Grade Spirit Artifact. The Plague Gourd was clearly more damaged than he was. And yet—no effect?

"This broken gourd has something odd about it," Yan thought.

Then Lu Qing’s voice echoed from above.

"Yan Senior, how fares it?"

Yan’s expression flickered with embarrassment, but he answered truthfully: "This Plague Gourd… it’s strange. I can’t seem to burn it."

"Then what should we do?"

Lu Qing’s tone was emotionless.

But Yan felt a sudden, sharp tension in his chest.

After a pause, Yan said: "My True Spirit isn’t fully restored. I can’t summon much power. I may not be able to break it alone—this will require your help."

"Good," Lu Qing replied instantly. "I’ll use the formation within this domain to assist you—finish this."

As soon as he spoke, Yan felt a surge of Array Power flood into the Lihuo Ding.

At the same time, a torrent of Qi poured into the cauldron.

His spirit surged with energy. Without hesitation, he devoured every bit of Qi.

In an instant, his physical form within the Spirit Artifact Space swelled—then, with a single motion, he swallowed the Plague Gourd whole.

Coiling tightly, he unleashed endless waves of fire, searing into the gourd’s core.

The Plague Elder, who had been gloating at Yan’s failure, suddenly felt the flames grow tenfold in intensity.

His eyes shot wide open in disbelief.

"How… how is this possible?!"

Frantically, he channeled what little Spirit Soul Power remained, trying to resist.

But it was useless.

White flames—charged with a hint of Law Power—poured into the gourd, eroding the seals he had painstakingly crafted.

The gray Plague Qi was consumed, melting away, spreading deeper into the gourd’s core.

No matter how hard he fought, he could not stop it.

"No!" The Plague Elder screamed, terror flooding his soul. "Young Master! I yield! I’ll open my True Spirit—submit to you!"

The white flames halted instantly.

Yan paused, staring upward.

The Plague Elder exhaled in relief.

But the next moment, Lu Qing’s cold voice rang from above.

"Too late, Plague Old Ghost. I gave you a chance. You threw it away. Yan, finish him."

The words froze both Yan and the Plague Elder.

The Plague Elder shrieked in desperation. "Master! It was all a misunderstanding! I was just hot-headed—I shouldn’t have provoked you! I know I’m wrong! Please spare me! From now on, I’ll serve you faithfully—like a loyal dog!"

He abandoned dignity, calling Lu Qing "Master" and himself "old servant."

His craven submission left even Yan speechless.

He knew these Daoist evildoers were treacherous and deceitful—but he never imagined even a former Spirit Realm master would beg so shamelessly.

But what stunned Yan even more was Lu Qing’s unyielding silence.

He didn’t even flinch.

"Yan," Lu Qing said again, voice colder than before, "did you not hear me? Burn him."

The command was clear. No room for mercy.

Yan understood: this wasn’t just intimidation. This was genuine intent—to destroy the Plague Elder utterly.

Feeling the weight of Lu Qing’s displeasure, Yan acted without delay.

The white flames surged forward once more.

"No! Not yet!" The Plague Elder screamed. "I know I’m wrong! Please give me another chance! I’ll be your most loyal servant! And if you kill me, the Plague Gourd will drop in rank—become just a Treasure Artifact. That would be a massive loss for you!"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears.

In the silence, Yan’s flames finally breached the core space where the Plague Elder’s True Spirit hid.

The white flames, glowing with terrifying power, advanced inch by inch toward the Plague Elder’s soul.

He was broken.

His face twisted in madness.

"Little brat… if I can’t live, then we’ll die together!"

With a desperate thought, he tried to trigger the core seal—self-destruct the Spirit Artifact, taking Lu Qing with him.

But when he reached for it—nothing.

He couldn’t activate a single power.

"Want to self-destruct?" Yan’s deep voice echoed from within the gourd. "If you’d done it at the beginning, maybe I couldn’t stop you. But you were too afraid to die. Only now, when my flames are almost burning you alive, do you think of it? You really think my power is just for show? Die."

The flames surged forward.

The Plague Elder, already weakened beyond recovery, couldn’t withstand even a fraction of the flame’s power—charged with Law Power.

He screamed once—then was instantly incinerated, reduced to nothing.

With the Plague Elder’s True Spirit destroyed, Yan spat the Plague Gourd out, extinguishing all flames.

Without the Artifact Spirit’s presence, the gourd’s rank dropped instantly.

If Yan hadn’t withdrawn his power, the Spirit Artifact would have been destroyed.

Lu Qing reappeared in the Spirit Artifact Space.

"Little Master," Yan said, handing over the gourd. "This is the Plague Elder’s Spirit Artifact."

Even his tone had changed. No longer calling Lu Qing "boy."

Lu Qing took the gourd. It had shrunk—now no larger than a palm, easily held in one hand.

"Little Master," Yan added, "this gourd… it’s odd. Even my flames couldn’t harm it. There must be something deeper at play."

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end