Chapter 71: The Memories of Heavenly Dew (Part Three)

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Examining the coffin carefully, Xu Cheng speculated that its powers must come with many limitations—it could only resurrect those who had already transformed into supernatural entities. If it were merely a corpse, or a soul without a body, resurrection seemed unlikely. As for reviving himself, Xu Cheng considered that his current strength depended largely on the arts of the Yellow Springs, whose greatest power lay in transforming people into spectral beings. Even if he brought himself back to life, the overwhelming might of the Yellow Springs would most likely turn him once again into an emissary of the underworld.

Night had fallen, and Yan Mengdie and the others had awakened from their meditation. Chrysanthemum asked, “Right Envoy, what are you thinking about, clutching that coffin?”

“Nothing much. But if you were given the chance to abandon your identity as a spirit warden and become human once more, would you take it?” Xu Cheng asked, supporting his head with his hand.

“Absolutely not!” Chrysanthemum replied without hesitation.

“Why not?” Xu Cheng was taken aback, not expecting such a resolute answer.

“Back in Gunzhou City, the Demon Lord Yun Sheng told me that Qingshu landed a good post in the underworld. My position as a judge is a perfect match for her!” Chrysanthemum added immediately.

Though Xu Cheng had suspected that Yun Sheng might also belong to the underworld, he hadn’t expected him to know so much about the affairs of the Yellow Springs. Why was it that he seemed aware only of sacrificial offerings of both spirits and humans, but nothing else?

After pondering for a while, Xu Cheng decided to let the matter go and turned his attention to Cen Ningyue and Niu Dazhuang. “What about you two? Do you wish to be revived?”

“Right Envoy, you must be joking. Living as an ordinary mortal is nothing compared to roaming the world as a spirit warden!” Cen Ningyue had fully adapted to her new role and had grown to love it. For her, hunting spirits was far more appealing; if she were to return to life, how could she wield her warden’s magical arts?

“I, Old Niu, don’t want to go back to farming either!” After thinking it over, Niu Dazhuang replied honestly.

“Xu Cheng, did you discover something?” Yan Mengdie noticed something odd about him.

“When I explored the memories of Master Tiangui, I found that if a specter lies within this coffin, they can return to life. But if it’s just a corpse or a wandering soul, it won’t work. Speaking of which, it’s a rather tragic and weighty story—would you like to see it?” Xu Cheng’s words stunned Yan Mengdie.

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“No, thanks! I’m heavy enough as it is—do you really want to add more weight to this fairy?” Yan Mengdie put her hands on her hips, emphasizing her robust figure. “But why don’t you revive yourself?”

Xu Cheng, amused by her earlier remark, quickly adopted a serious tone. “Most of my strength now comes from the arts of the Yellow Springs. If I truly wanted to live again, I’d have to give them up entirely. Otherwise, the mark of the Yellow Springs would ensure I soon became a skeleton once more.”

“I see.” To forgo the arts of the Yellow Springs—how then could they resist the Xia Dynasty? Yan Mengdie fell silent.

At this, Xu Cheng fastened the rag doll to his waist, but also cast a protective spell over it to prevent it from turning to ashes as time passed.

In the midst of this silence, Chrysanthemum reminded him, “Right Envoy, it’s almost the hour of the Boar. Shouldn’t we be going?”

After a day of rain, the sky had cleared. That night, there were no clouds, only a bright moon.

They left the thatched hut, the moonlight casting a cold, silvery glow on them. Xu Cheng took a deep breath, savoring the scent of grass—a rare, peaceful moment.

But this was no time for leisure; they were heading out to kill, not to enjoy the night.

They sprinted through the darkness, using no magic since their target was close by. Any fluctuation in spiritual power would alert the authorities and turn the assassination into open conflict. Fortunately, their bodies, transformed by magic, were swift enough.

Moments later, they stood atop the government office’s roof. Below lay the quarters of their targets.

They exchanged glances. Chrysanthemum and Yan Mengdie took their positions, waiting for Xu Cheng to begin his spell.

“Great Art of Origin—Wings of Ascension!” Xu Cheng murmured, and with his incantation, two vast white wings emerged at his back—a true transfiguration.

Without pausing to admire them, he seized the moment when his spiritual power doubled, unleashing the Black Dragon Seal of the Yellow Springs Reincarnation Art.

A thick, inky water engulfed the residence below. With his spiritual force now approaching the level of a pure yang soul, a titanic black dragon—its head alone hundreds of feet across—rose from the Yellow Springs and devoured everything in its path.

The five martial artists of the Yuanshen realm barely sensed the surge of power before the spell drew them into the cycle of reincarnation.

Chrysanthemum had wanted to test her own strength, but quickly realized it was better to keep clear of that fearsome black dragon. The five martial artists barely put up any resistance before their auras vanished completely.

Xu Cheng then activated the sacrificial power. One after another, the five Yuanshen realm souls were reduced to pure white light and vanished.

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Now that he had fully mastered the Great Art of Origin, the aftereffects of such power surges had lessened. Xu Cheng quietly accepted the new influx of energy from the Yellow Springs.

The reward was another celestial art—the Six Paths Art of the Yellow Springs. Unlike before, the method was not a direct infusion of magical sigils into his body, but rather thousands upon thousands of cultivation techniques, eventually to be condensed into one.

Still, Xu Cheng felt that elixirs to replenish the spirit were more practical. With greater cultivation, the might of his arts would naturally increase. Even now, his own innate art, the Yellow Springs Reincarnation, could only be used at twenty percent of its full power; other arts managed at best ten percent. Only with the boost from the Great Art of Origin could he raise their force to around thirty percent.

As Xu Cheng brooded, Chrysanthemum dragged over a few who had managed to escape the slaughter.

He thought to himself that targeting weaker cultivators was far more practical. With a flick, his Netherflame Chains appeared from thin air and drew them straight into the cycle of reincarnation.

As expected, with weaker prey, the Yellow Springs awarded him three spirit-restoring pills and a few soul-forging elixirs.

“Is everything taken care of?” Xu Cheng asked immediately.

The others nodded.

Xu Cheng then swept his divine sense over the town. By now, besides their small group of cultivators, only ordinary people remained in White Tiger Town.

The purge of the government officials had gone so smoothly, it felt almost unreal.

Here, the advantage of spell-casters was clear: given time to prepare, they could wipe out any foe. In the past, he had been beaten badly by those martial artists; had his body not been nearly indestructible, he would have died countless times already. Only a true master could annihilate his very soul, otherwise, his arts would always allow him to recover. The other danger was running out of power, unable even to cast spells for rebirth.

“We’ll rest for the night and head to Qinghe Town tomorrow!” Xu Cheng declared as he gazed at the ruins below. The black dragon summoned by his celestial art had laid waste to everything, leaving no place fit to sleep. Otherwise, they might have spent the night in the government quarters.