Chapter 149: The Elders’ Rare Medicine is Reaped
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
A dense night fog clung to the mountain as relentless rain poured down. The great mountain summit was in chaos, strewn with bloodied feathers in four colors, crimson scales, and shattered silver quills—all stained with blood.
Anyone stumbling across this scene would be shocked to see the summit littered with wounded, battered elder demons.
Qin Ming stood tall, as though bathed in golden sunlight, impervious to the downpour. Not a single raindrop touched him. His eyes reflected his satisfaction as he gazed at the spoils of his conquest.
“Bring me the rare medicine,” he commanded.
The old donkey shuddered upon hearing him. Trembling, it rose to its hooves and ignored the murderous glare of Black Roc. Reverently cradling a flawless crystal, the donkey approached Qin Ming, its eyes filled with awe.
Qin Ming accepted the crystal, a smile spreading across his face. The massive, head-sized crystal contained a dark liquid radiating an intense medicinal potency. It was a treasure of exceptional rarity.
Black Roc trembled with rage, its featherless body shaking violently. Its beak clicked furiously, threatening to snap. That rare medicine had cost it dearly, acquired from an elder of its clan. Now, it was in the hands of an enemy!
It opened its beak to unleash a beam of black light, but Qin Ming silenced it with a single kick. The force cracked its beak.
“Stop!” Black Roc shrieked.
“My king!” cried its loyal bird demons. These avian creatures, devoted to Black Roc, spread their wings and surged forward to rescue their leader.
Qin Ming raised his jade-alloy blade, slashing through several fierce birds in a single, fluid motion. Then, with a gesture, he summoned thunder and lightning from the heavens. The mountaintop erupted with a web of silver streaks, the deafening noise drowning out their cries. The electrified avian demons fell lifeless to the ground.
Qin Ming’s actions left the remaining demons frozen in fear. Though youthful and refined in appearance, he now seemed like a demon god incarnate, striking terror into their hearts.
“Move your brothers to that massive structure,” Qin Ming instructed the old donkey.
“You spineless coward!” the Fire Lion roared, seething with rage.
The donkey hung its head low, avoiding its companions’ fiery glares. Its hooves shimmered faintly with celestial light as it dragged its wounded second brother toward the towering palace.
“Donkey, you think this will save you?” the Silver Hedgehog hissed. Its body was drenched in blood, its once-pristine silver quills completely spent.
Qin Ming approached the hedgehog and took the silver bow it had been guarding. The bow was adorned with cloud patterns, its craftsmanship extraordinary. “A fine bow,” Qin Ming remarked, testing its weight. “Adjustable power. This will serve me well for a long time.”
The Silver Hedgehog’s eyes burned with anger, but as a captive, its defiance meant nothing.
Qin Ming then turned his attention to a masked human man he had defeated earlier. With a casual kick, the mask flew off, revealing a man in his thirties with a stern expression.
“Speak. Where are you from, and why were you after me?” Qin Ming demanded.
To his surprise, the man answered willingly. “I’m from the Pseudo-God Association on the Shenzhang Plains. I came at Black Roc’s invitation to assist him.”
Qin Ming soon learned that this organization’s highest leader likely had ties to pseudo-god beings. The Shenzhang Plains branch was merely a small node of the larger organization, and the man before him was its second-in-command.
In the grand black-gold building, Qin Ming summoned the old donkey again. “How did you know I was going to the Wolf Palace last time?” he asked.
“The Pseudo-God Association informed us,” the donkey replied.
“Is that true?” Qin Ming asked the man on the ground.
“We trade in information,” the man admitted. “But that particular detail was handled by our leader personally.”
Through mental resonance, Qin Ming confirmed that neither the donkey nor the man was lying. The Pseudo-God Association had indeed sent a bird demon to deliver the message, for which Black Roc had paid handsomely.
Qin Ming’s expression grew cold. A human leader of the association was selling out his kind’s secrets to non-humans.
Pressing further, Qin Ming forced the man to divulge the association’s locations and other critical details. Then, smiling faintly, he said, “I’m interested in your sword technique. Let’s exchange ideas.”
The man’s face turned grim. Qin Ming clearly intended to seize his sword manual. Resigned to his fate, the man began gathering celestial energy, planning to end his life rather than endure torture.
But Qin Ming, attuned to his thoughts through mental resonance, dispersed the energy before the man could act. “Recite the full sword manual,” he ordered, “and I’ll grant you a swift end.”
The man resisted, his mind clouded with despair. Eventually, he relented and recited a deeply flawed version of the Blazing Sun Sword Canon—a masterpiece once practiced by grandmasters.
Through mental resonance, Qin Ming extracted the true essence of the canon, discarding the man’s deliberate errors. Scenes of unparalleled clarity unfolded in his mind as he absorbed the complete technique.
Testing the newfound skill, he wielded his jade-alloy blade, infusing it with fiery sword energy. Within moments, faint flames danced along the blade’s pristine surface.
“Impossible!” the man exclaimed in shock. The flawed version he had provided should have been unusable, yet Qin Ming had mastered it in mere moments—an unfathomable feat.
“An impressive canon,” Qin Ming praised sincerely. “Truly a masterpiece.”
The man’s spirit crumbled. Qin Ming had achieved what even sect leaders struggled with—deciphering and mastering an art in such a short time. What kind of monstrous talent was this?
Satisfied, Qin Ming prepared to test his rare medicine. He captured a freshly mutated sparrow and opened the crystal, releasing a rich, intoxicating fragrance. The surrounding demons couldn’t help but glance over.
Black Roc trembled violently, its heart breaking at the sight. It would rather have destroyed the medicine than watch its enemy refine it.
Qin Ming meticulously purified a glowing drop of the black liquid using celestial energy, injecting its potent essence into the sparrow, closely observing its reaction.
The rare medicine worked instantly. The sparrow’s gaze became clearer, its spiritual awareness visibly enhanced. Its foundation seemed strengthened. Qin Ming waited for a long time, observing the bird. Not only did it not exhibit any adverse effects, but its state kept improving. It even seemed to have awakened a level of Divine Wisdom, far more intelligent than its previously dull demeanor.
Satisfied with the results, Qin Ming began refining the rare black blood from the crystal.
Dark light swirled, and misty radiance steamed as the rich medicinal fragrance enveloped him. Using the technique from the Fate-Altering Sutra, Qin Ming extracted the purest essence of the medicine.
“Ah!” Black Roc wailed in despair, unable to breathe from the anguish. Screeching, it bashed its head against the ground in an attempt to end its life. The old donkey quickly intervened, dispersing its accumulated celestial light.
This was Qin Ming’s explicit order: none of the elder demons were allowed to die.
“You traitorous fool, Lu Chong Xiao! You absolute scoundrel!” Black Roc roared in rage, addressing the old donkey.
Meanwhile, Qin Ming continued refining the black blood while walking toward Black Roc. He seized the moment of its emotional turmoil to probe for useful information.
“As a member of the Roc clan, don’t you have any ultimate techniques? Why do you seem so… weak?” he teased.
Black Roc glared at the crystal in Qin Ming’s hands, its bloodshot eyes filled with fury. Its lightning-scorched, black-red body quivered as it struggled to rise, intending to fight to the death.
Eventually, Qin Ming extracted from Black Roc the incomplete Black Roc Sutra. The text included powerful techniques such as the Black Roc Step and Roc Talon Art, both driven by the Black Roc Force.
Resonating with the mind of a maddened being was a Herculean task, but Qin Ming persisted. After much effort, he acquired the partial sutra, which included methods for cultivation post-human transformation, making it adaptable for humans as well.
“You’re a generous bird,” Qin Ming remarked lightly. Then, without further insult, he ended Black Roc’s life with a single palm strike to the head.
At the same time, Qin Ming completed the refinement of the black blood, absorbing its essence into his body. Instantly, his flesh and blood seemed to become more vibrant, radiating an aura as if he were on the verge of ascending. A glowing mist swirled around him.
Standing still, Qin Ming quietly sensed the changes within himself. His foundation had indeed improved.
“Each step forward is incredibly challenging,” he mused. “Breaking my current limits is no easy feat. But now, I see hope—and I’ve succeeded.”
Turning his gaze to the Silver Sparrow, Qin Ming decided not to frighten the other elder demons. He took the sparrow into a side hall and used mental resonance to assess its skills. As expected, its techniques were avian in nature and unsuitable for humans.
Without hesitation, he extracted its rare blood. As he refined the essence, colorful mist shrouded his body, the rich fragrance spreading. This rare medicine was extremely precious.
When Qin Ming completely absorbed the blood’s essence, his joints crackled, and the Golden Thread Jade Garment manifested briefly before fading again. He had crossed another threshold in his cultivation.
Qin Ming reflected. His initial foundation now exceeded 1,600 jin of strength. He sighed. “It’s as difficult as I expected. From Huang Yuan’s medicine to the Silver Wolf King’s, to Black Roc’s rare medicine, and now the Silver Sparrow’s blood—four sources in total—yet they’ve only raised my foundation slightly above 1,600 jin.”
He understood that raw strength now played a smaller role in combat compared to the qualitative changes in his celestial light force. However, the foundational strength symbolized potential. A foundation of 1,600 jin represented not just raw power but a promise of greater heights and depths in future cultivation. Among the ancestors of various teachings, none had ever broken the threshold of 1,500 jin. His achievement spoke volumes.
“It’s truly difficult to advance further,” he lamented.
Thankfully, there was still one more source of rare blood outside.
Returning to the grand palace, Qin Ming eyed the Fire Lion but refrained from acting immediately. Having absorbed two types of rare medicines in succession, he needed a moment to recover.
“I haven’t reached my eighth awakening yet. Is it because these two types of rare blood, like Huang Yuan’s, only increase my foundation without triggering an awakening? Or is it that my seventh awakening is still too recent, making another impossible for now?” Qin Ming pondered but did not dwell on it.
“Brother Hedgehog, didn’t you say you wanted me to help wash your back and clean your spines?” Qin Ming teased as he approached, holding his jade-alloy blade.
The Silver Hedgehog’s face flushed with shame and anger. It had underestimated the situation earlier, and now it had no retort to Qin Ming’s taunt.
“I noticed your archery skills are extraordinary—masterful, even. How about we exchange techniques?” Qin Ming said with a smile.
“You must be dreaming. I won’t teach you my archery!” the Silver Hedgehog snapped, seeing through his intentions.
Unfazed, Qin Ming began reciting archery techniques he already knew, directly engaging the hedgehog in discussion. “How does this compare to your methods?”
Though battered and quill-less, the Silver Hedgehog maintained a proud demeanor. “Your archery techniques are mediocre. The ones I’ve mastered belong to a transcendent archery canon!”
“Then recite a portion and show me how exceptional it is,” Qin Ming challenged.
“Hmph, listen carefully. You might learn something,” the Silver Hedgehog grumbled before reluctantly reciting a section.
“It’s rather ordinary,” Qin Ming remarked after listening. “I think my archery is more profound.”
The two engaged in a back-and-forth, with Qin Ming continually provoking the hedgehog to the point of emotional extremes. After a prolonged struggle, he finally extracted the full Archery Canon.
This canon was extraordinary, an ultimate technique cherished even among great sects. Compared to it, the archery techniques Qin Ming had obtained from the Wu family in Black and White Mountain paled in comparison.
When the Silver Hedgehog saw Qin Ming practicing with a large bow amidst the rain, it was utterly stunned. Having studied the canon for years, it knew its intricacies well and could tell at a glance that Qin Ming had mastered its core secrets—esoteric skills rarely passed down.
“How is this possible? How could you learn it so quickly?” the hedgehog exclaimed, shocked. Even if it had handed over the complete canon, mastery should have been impossible in such a short time.
Qin Ming simply smiled, confident in his talent. He offered no explanation.
“Are you human, a ghost, or a god?” the hedgehog cried, utterly disoriented.
With the innate gifts of an ancestor-level genius, Qin Ming had elevated his archery to unparalleled heights. “You’re a generous hedgehog,” he said, striking the hedgehog’s head with a clean, decisive blow, granting it a swift end.
“I’d rather die than be toyed with by you!” the Fire Lion roared defiantly.
Qin Ming was indifferent, making no move to stop it. “Suit yourself. Aside from the heart containing the rare Fire Qilin blood, you have nothing of interest to me.”
His bluntness left the Fire Lion seething with rage, nearly exploding on the spot.
In the end, Qin Ming helped the lion “fulfill its wish,” taking its massive heart, which radiated fiery crimson light. As he refined the blood, a phantom of a roaring Fire Qilin seemed to emerge from the crimson essence, terrifying in its majesty.
Nearby, birds took flight, their wings flapping against the distant sky.
In the heights above, a massive white peacock hovered, listening to the reports with growing astonishment. “He harvested all the wild ‘rare medicines’ the elders found in the Ancestor Court? No, he even uprooted the medicinal roots!”