I, a Demonic Nascent Soul Patriarch, Begin by Snatching a Cheat

”Then what Saint Teacher Gu means is—” Saint Teacher Mo set down his scroll, his gaze narrowing slightly. ”Could the recent string of disappearances among our Northern Plains Grandmasters be connected to that Ganzhou sword cultivator?”

”If you ask me, it’s definitely him!” Saint Teacher Ma slammed a palm onto the table, shattering the stone slab into several pieces. ”A Peak Nascent Soul Stage sword cultivator from Ganzhou, and the timing lines up perfectly. If not him, who else could it be?”

Gu Daobian raised a hand, pressing it against Saint Teacher Ma’s arm. ”Patience, Brother Ma. It might not be him.”

”What do you mean by that, Gu?” Saint Teacher Ma whipped his head around, his aura surging. ”You came here today and brought him up—weren’t you implying he was the culprit? Now you say he might not be. Did you come all this way just to toy with us? None of the dead were from your Heavenly Ancient Tribe, so of course you’re in no rush!”

Gu Daobian stood up. Though he kept his spiritual pressure concealed, it firmly suppressed the other man’s surging aura. Glancing up slightly, he said, ”I never denied he was a suspect. We simply lack sufficient evidence right now and shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Why so impatient, Brother Ma?”

”Both of you, calm down,” Saint Teacher Mo said, rising to mediate. ”My quarters are small. They can’t withstand a fight between you two.”

Gu Daobian gave a cold snort and flicked his sleeve. ”Out of respect for Saint Teacher Mo, I won’t hold this against you.”

With that, he changed the subject and recounted the incident from start to finish—how he had traveled to the Northern Plains Battlefield, fallen into the Blood Abyss Sect’s trap, and been rescued by a Peak Nascent Soul Stage sword cultivator named Qing You. He also added a few details they had only uncovered after the fact.

As Saint Teacher Ma and Saint Teacher Mo listened, their expressions shifted repeatedly. When they heard of the female cultivator surnamed Jia’s betrayal, Saint Teacher Ma cursed aloud on the spot. Saint Teacher Mo shook his head and sighed; while Northern Plains soldiers fought and bled on the front lines, someone in the rear had sold out their comrades over a petty personal grudge. It truly chilled the heart.

When they heard how Gu Daobian and the Saintess had been besieged by five Nascent Soul cultivators from the Blood Abyss Sect, only for that sword cultivator Qing You to intervene—instantly killing two and sending the remaining three fleeing—their expressions grew complicated. They doubted they could have fared any better against such power. Though neither said much aloud, both silently reevaluated the sword cultivator’s sheer strength.”If he really were the culprit,” Gu Daobian continued, ”why bother saving us? If he only did it because of an old connection with the Saintess, then he can’t be a bloodthirsty, callous killer. But if he really wanted to target our Northern Plains Grandmasters, he would need a reason. What does our Northern Plains possess that a Peak Nascent Soul Stage sword cultivator would covet?”

Those questions brought a moment of silence to the hall.

Saint Teacher Ma opened his mouth, but couldn’t find an immediate reply.

Saint Teacher Mo furrowed his brow. He pondered for a long moment before venturing, ”Then what Brother Gu means is...”

”I believe that compared to that sword cultivator,” Gu Daobian said with conviction,

”the Blood Abyss Sect cultivators who fled that day are far more suspicious. You’ve all heard the rumors about our border warriors having their souls extracted, and you can guess whose handiwork that is. Now our Northern Plains Grandmasters are being assassinated. Not even their corpses can be found, let alone their Nascent Souls or mortal souls escaping. It reeks of the methods favored by those Demonic Path scoundrels. The Blood Abyss Sect has a legacy spanning nearly ten thousand years and profound foundations; such actions fit their style far better.”

...

At that very moment, hundreds of thousands of li away on the border of the Heavenly Fire Tribe’s territory, wild sand filled the sky, churning into a yellow-brown curtain of dust. A figure flickered within it at blinding speed, crossing dozens of li in the blink of an eye.

After flying thousands of li, the figure finally plunged into the depths of a complex, crisscrossing canyon network.

Inside a dimly lit cave, Jiuyou touched down and drew an ancient beast-hide scroll from his sleeve, its cover inscribed with several characters in the Northern Plains script. This was the spoils of war he had obtained not long ago after ambushing a Nascent Soul Stage cultivator from the Tianyan Tribe: the complete manual of the Heavenly Flame Body Tempering Art.

As for the Tianyan Tribe he had passed through, he had simply dispatched their lone Nascent Soul Early Stage cultivator along the way. He had no particular motive beyond claiming the man’s soul. That soul was now refined and sealed within the Nether Capital Gate, serving as material to help fill the final deficit.

He flipped through a few pages of the manual, confirming that his earlier cultivation direction hadn’t been wrong. The bottleneck he had encountered days ago was indeed due to lacking the subsequent methods.

At the moment, however, he was in no mood to ponder body refinement. Deity Transformation was his most pressing concern; everything else could wait.

He put the manual away into his storage pouch and sat cross-legged in the cave for a short while. After circulating his magic power for a complete cycle and verifying that his condition was stable, he opened his eyes again.

Over the past year or so, he had used the Little Green Bottle to cultivate those two Nether Soul Spirit Mushrooms to ten thousand years of maturity, one after the other. The one that had matured first had already begun absorbing the soul power within the Nether Capital Gate.

The Spirit Velvet was like a vessel: the older it was, the more soul power it could hold. At the same time, it naturally transformed the soul power it absorbed, though some loss occurred during the process.

If a Nether Soul Spirit Mushroom grew naturally to ten thousand years, the soul power stored inside would rival the entire soul of a Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivator. But for one forced to maturity like this, while it had reached the proper age, its soul power was completely hollow. He had to fill it himself.

Over the past few months, he had hunted down roughly eight Northern Plains Nascent Soul Grandmasters, gathering all their souls into the Nether Capital Gate. Even so, it was still not enough. Most of them had only been at the Nascent Soul Early Stage, meaning their soul quality was limited. Factoring in the losses from refinement and storage, the usable portion was even less than he had expected.

He recalled the Second Elder of the Blood Abyss Sect, Ying Tong, who had escaped the battlefield that day. Had he intercepted him and captured his Nascent Soul, this deficit would have been filled long ago. And then there was Gu Daobian—had he killed him alongside the others back then, would he be lacking this material now?

Still, the remaining deficit wasn’t too large. If he could kill two more Middle Nascent Soul Stage cultivators and extract their souls, it should be enough to assemble the final portion. If he happened across a Nascent Soul Late Stage cultivator, it would be even easier—not only would it be enough, he would have a surplus.

Yet as he flew north over the past several days, he hadn’t encountered a single Northern Plains Nascent Soul cultivator. It was as though the killings had terrified them into retreating to their strongholds; even the number of disciples sent out on patrol had drastically dwindled.

Several of the tribes he passed had even raised their outer spiritual light barriers, acting as if they were facing a mortal enemy.

It seemed this past year of assassinations had thoroughly frayed the nerves of the high-ranking Northern Plains cultivators. They all knew someone was out there, specifically waiting for them to travel alone.

Jiuyou flew no further. Descending into a desolate mountain hollow, he retrieved the two stalks of Spirit Velvet from his storage pouch and examined them closely by the faint light filtering down into the cave. One was brimming with soul power, nearing the point of being usable; the other was somewhat weaker and still needed to absorb more.

Had he overlooked something?

He had been so fixated on the Northern Plains that he had completely forgotten about the Blood Abyss Sect.