Chapter Sixty-Four: The Black-Robed Figure Appears Again

The manual still contained no techniques for refining pills or forging artifacts, but it did mention the art of talisman creation—specifically, the Windriding Talisman and the Earthburrow Talisman.

The Windriding Talisman allowed its bearer to travel upon the wind. A single low-grade Windriding Talisman could let the user ride the wind for two hours, while medium and high-grade talismans offered exponentially greater effects. The Earthburrow Talisman, on the other hand, granted its user the power to travel through earth. A low-grade Earthburrow Talisman enabled its bearer to instantly burrow five hundred li through the ground, with medium and high-grade variants providing similarly multiplied results.

The manual also provided the incantations for the Windriding Spell and the Earthburrow Spell.

From the annotations, Feng Ke’er had already understood that the effects of talismans and spells were nearly identical, though talismans were less convenient to use. Yet talismans had their advantages. For instance, they placed almost no requirements on the user. As long as no restrictions were set upon the talisman, anyone could activate it, regardless of whether they possessed spiritual power or not. Spells, however, required activation with spiritual energy. Therefore, carrying a few talismans as a precaution was never a bad idea.

This time, Feng Ke’er did not begrudge the trouble of using talismans. She earnestly studied the forms displayed by the manual, learning to draw talismans with care.

This was not difficult for her, for she discovered that so-called spiritual talismans, though shrouded in mystique, were in fact quite straightforward. To draw a talisman, one simply wrote the content of the spell in Seal Script, following specific formats and styles. The format was not hard; the challenge lay in the script itself. This was why, in the lower realms, the art of talisman-making was considered so difficult—cultivators there could not even recognize Seal Script. Moreover, the required script for talismans was the Pangu Style. (How did Feng Ke’er know this? Simple: not only did she have Pangu’s own cultivation diary, but just consider who raised her!)

Pangu’s calligraphy was always wild and nearly illegible—to put it kindly. In truth, the very phrase “ghostly scrawl” originated with him! So, for those lower-realm cultivators who treated Seal Script as a foreign tongue, it was little wonder they had no idea how to draw talismans.

Feng Ke’er had tried drawing talismans without imitating Pangu’s script, but found her efforts completely ineffectual. She had no choice but to diligently copy the “Pangu Style” in the future. (This was mostly due to Feng San, who had never intentionally guided her to practice Pangu’s script.)

Beyond this, the efficacy of a talisman depended on three factors: first, the quality of the ink. Generally, cultivators used the blood of demon beasts as ink—the higher the grade of the beast, the more potent the resulting talisman. Second, the spiritual power of the talisman-maker; the two were directly proportional. Third, the quality of the talisman paper. In this era, there was no real paper, so talisman “paper” might be a leaf, a stone, or a scrap of cloth. The higher the quality of the material, the greater the talisman’s power. The sole exception was drawing talismans in the void. In this advanced method, the cultivator used spiritual power to solidify the air itself, creating a medium for the talisman. This process consumed immense spiritual power, and maintaining the talisman’s form required constant spiritual output—something only high-level cultivators could manage.

Previously, when Feng Ke’er had transformed herself, it was always through drawing talismans in the void. This was entirely due to the Concealment Talisman and had nothing to do with her original form.

However, at present, she only had fire ant blood for ink, leaves and scraps of tattered robes for paper, and her cultivation was merely at the Foundation Establishment stage. As a result, the talismans she produced were all low-grade, and the rest… failures. Truth be told, she was still far from adept at writing in the Pangu Style, and her failure rate approached thirty percent.

Apart from talisman-making, Feng Ke’er had learned the Freezing Spell and the Great Palm Imprint. Compared to the skills she had acquired previously, these two were truly formidable.

The Freezing Spell was an area attack, capable of freezing multiple targets into ice in an instant. Feng Ke’er tested it: with her current spiritual power, she could cover an area of over ten square meters with a full-strength attack.

The Great Palm Imprint was a palm technique, also capable of area attacks, somewhat akin to the legendary Buddha’s Palm—but it did not descend from above, and could strike in any direction, a full three hundred and sixty degrees. When she unleashed it, a palm-shaped imprint about ten square meters wide would appear, pulverizing anything within.

Feng Ke’er found that both skills could be executed with either hand, and as long as her spiritual power sufficed, her hands could alternate attacks.

Both consumed about the same amount of spiritual power; at her current level, she could cast either spell about ten times.

Experimenting further, Feng Ke’er discovered that using both skills together was even more devastating: freezing with her left hand, palm imprint with her right, both unleashed at once, the resulting thunderous roar sounded like a small cannon. Where her attacks landed, the earth was gouged a meter deep, with ice shards and dust flying in all directions.

This, she realized, was the perfect technique for destroying fire ant nests. Indeed, it was with this combined assault that Feng Ke’er had wiped out entire colonies of fire ants, nest and all. Afterwards, she had carefully inspected the aftermath: under her palms, not a single survivor remained, not even a fire ant’s leg!

She stared at the icy pit still steaming on the ground, unable to help but click her tongue in amazement.

Suddenly, she frowned—someone was approaching!

Perhaps because her dantian had split into six, after her advancement, her spiritual sense had grown nearly sixfold. Now, within the Ten-Thousand Ant Forest, her spiritual sense could cover a radius of three hundred li, almost encompassing the entire forest.

Who could it be? Feng Ke’er instantly retracted her palms and stilled her mind, focusing her senses.

Through the dense miasma, a black figure leapt swiftly, crossing the forest’s only brook in a flash and disappearing into the deep woods. But Feng Ke’er recognized that silhouette and the bronze ghost mask on his face—it was the same black-robed man who had strangled Master Chen and then set his body aflame to erase all traces.

What was he doing here? Hunting fire ants? With his cultivation, did he really need to bother with such low-level demon beasts? Suppressing her doubts, Feng Ke’er quickly hid herself in a secluded patch of underbrush, sitting cross-legged, breath held, spiritual sense extended, continuing to track the black-robed man.

He seemed to be searching for something. After a soft exclamation, he doubled back to the brook, moving swiftly along its course through the dense forest.

Wherever he passed, both the large and small fire ants lay flat on the ground, not daring to move a muscle.

Clearly, this was a high-level cultivator.

Eventually, the black-robed man found the three fire ant nests Feng Ke’er had just destroyed. At each icy crater, he paused and swept the area with his spiritual sense. After examining the third, he snorted and muttered to himself, “Interesting.”

The shrub where Feng Ke’er hid was only about four hundred meters away. Watching his broad back, she clapped a hand tightly over her mouth, scarcely daring to breathe.

When he finished speaking, he released his spiritual sense, sweeping the area, then unleashed a wave of oppressive might. With his hands clasped behind his back, he turned sharply in Feng Ke’er’s direction and suddenly shouted, “Come out! I see you. I know you’re not Qin Heng!”

Oh no! How did he know? The meatbird had said cultivators below the third stage of Golden Immortal could not pierce her concealment! Her heart leapt wildly, pounding so hard it nearly burst from her chest. Feng Ke’er almost cried out in alarm.

She quickly bit her finger, forcing herself to calm down, muttering inwardly, No, the Concealment Talisman is still in effect. He can’t find me! He’s bluffing!

It made sense. If she were truly just a novice cultivator, surviving in the Ten-Thousand Ant Forest would already be a miracle, let alone creating those monstrous icy craters—and withstanding the black-robed man’s pressure to boot. Anyone would be suspicious, wouldn’t they?

As expected, the black-robed man hesitated, then withdrew his oppressive aura. Changing his tone, he spoke softly in her direction, “Since you do not wish to reveal yourself, and I have urgent matters to attend to, I will not delay. The days are long; if fate allows, we shall meet again.” With that, he stepped back twice, turned around, spread his arms, tapped his feet lightly, and soared away like an eagle.

Feng Ke’er, fearing a trick, remained hidden in the shrubbery, not daring to stir.

But after a long time, the man did not return.

It seemed he truly had other matters to attend to. Yet, had he really discovered her presence? Feng Ke’er scratched her head, unable to find an answer.

After a moment’s thought, she decided to extend her spiritual sense to investigate: what had brought the black-robed man into the Ten-Thousand Ant Forest?

He had vanished toward the very heart of the forest, where the miasma was thickest—a place Feng Ke’er had yet to explore. Her curiosity was piqued. Could there be some treasure at the heart of the forest alluring enough to draw a high-level cultivator?

Soon, her spiritual sense located the black-robed man.

He had stopped beneath a cypress tree so thick it would take three people to encircle it. After a wary glance around, he circled the massive trunk, his eyes settling on its base, nodding repeatedly.

But Feng Ke’er’s spiritual sense found nothing unusual there.

Puzzled, she watched as he suddenly leapt back a full zhang, muttered an incantation, and began moving his hands with dizzying speed—tossing his head, twisting his waist, swaying his hips in a wild, frenzied dance.

After three breaths, green smoke began billowing from beneath his robe.

Once his strange dance ended, the black-robed man spread his arms, threw back his head, and began to convulse violently.

The smoke thickened, his spasms growing more intense.

He chanted rapidly, his voice low and indistinct, so that even with her ears pricked, Feng Ke’er could not make out the words. She could not help but mutter to herself: What kind of technique is this? Looks more like spirit-channeling than spellcasting.

After about two breaths, the black-robed man suddenly shouted, halting both his convulsions and his muttering. He was now completely enveloped in dense green smoke.

Feng Ke’er’s jaw dropped in utter confusion. Through the billowing smoke, she could see clearly that his legs had vanished, replaced by a massive green serpent’s tail—at least six meters long and thicker than her family’s four-liter pressure cooker by a good three rings! The tip stood upright, conical and gleaming with a cold green light.

Such killing intent! Even from dozens of li away, Feng Ke’er could not suppress a shiver.

Yet above the waist, the black-robed man’s form was unchanged.

Good heavens, what manner of creature was this? A serpent spirit? In all her time since arriving in this world, Feng Ke’er had never witnessed such a sight.

She was terrified of snakes. Watching that tail sway back and forth sent chills from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet, raising goosebumps all over her body.

(To be continued…)