Chapter 19: Journey Through Black Mountain (Part 1)

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“So simple?” Mo Jiang was momentarily stunned as he saw the task, for it seemed almost too easy. The quest in the Flower Castle had been abruptly interrupted in the end, but even before that, its difficulty was incomparable to this current one, and the reward now was far more generous.

Although the presence of the Gate Spirit had complicated things back then, it was unlikely that the Gate Spirit had interfered much in this regard.

“Wait a moment.”

Suddenly, a thought flashed through Mo Jiang’s mind. “With the world’s vital energy leaking away, cultivators can barely maintain their own power. In a situation where there’s not enough to go around, acquiring a cultivation method must be extremely difficult. The fewer the cultivators, the greater the share of energy each remaining one receives, and the higher the chance of advancing to loftier realms.”

He knew nothing of the path of cultivation; in his home world, the only extraordinary powers he knew of were the Strangers. Even among his own Mo family, the means by which Strangers increased their strength remained a mystery. Furthermore, Strangers had no clear hierarchy. Every three years, a regional tournament was held, and the top ten would earn the title of “Transcendent.”

But with the world’s energy ebbing, cultivators could barely sustain themselves. Clearly, the relationship between this energy and the world of cultivation was profound and inextricable.

Yet, remaining here any longer was hardly a wise choice.

Mo Jiang quietly retreated; after all, he had already reclaimed the bone armor and the doll. Should he fail to complete the mission in this “Ruins World,” he could always abandon it without consequence.

He half expected the police to try to stop him as he left, but to his surprise, upon recognizing him, they let him pass without objection. One female officer even opened the car door for him and gestured politely for him to enter.

“My master wishes to speak with you,” she said.

“Very well,” Mo Jiang replied without hesitation. After all, he could leave at any time, and right now, this was a rare opportunity to obtain a cultivation method.

They wouldn’t seek him out for nothing.

After some thought, Mo Jiang could only surmise it was about his “artifact forging technique.” The middle-aged man earlier had tried to take him away, likely after noticing something unusual about his bone armor.

Seated inside, Mo Jiang saw a somewhat portly old monk, who gazed at him with a genial smile.

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“Master?” Mo Jiang addressed him.

“Just use my Dharma name—my Dharma name is Wuxing,” replied the old monk. “You have pioneered such a method of forging artifacts; though it bears a baleful air, it has truly resolved a crisis in the cultivation world. The title of ‘Master’ is well deserved!”

Only then did Mo Jiang realize that the old monk before him must hold an exalted position in the cultivator world of this city of monsters and ghosts.

“Master Wuxing,” he said, “let’s speak plainly. If there’s something you want, let’s put it all on the table.”

“I want your artifact forging method and your cultivation technique!” the old monk declared, catching Mo Jiang off guard. The former he had expected, but the latter genuinely surprised him.

“My cultivation technique?” Mo Jiang blurted out, caught off guard.

“Do you not possess a cultivation method?” The old monk, shrewd and perceptive, instantly detected the subtle implication in Mo Jiang’s words.

“My ancestors did, but during the chaos in the cultivation world more than a decade ago, it was lost. All I have left is half a manual on artifact forging, from which I managed to piece together a few things. I’d rather not embarrass myself with it. I trust, Master, that your discerning eyes can see more than what I have to offer.” Mo Jiang fabricated an excuse, knowing it was full of holes, and quickly handed over the bone armor and the doll, hoping to divert the old monk’s attention.

“Haha, forthright indeed!” The old monk’s eyes crinkled in mirth. Though he could tell Mo Jiang was not being entirely truthful, he had already gotten what he wanted, so he let it be.

In this city of monsters and ghosts, a complete cultivation method involved not just the routes for refining and circulating vital energy, but also the corresponding alchemical recipes and artifact crafting techniques. That was why Master Wuxing had sought a cultivation method from Mo Jiang.

He had separated the artifact forging method from the cultivation technique because Mo Jiang, along with his bone armor and doll, exhibited no trace of “vital energy fluctuation.” Yet, paradoxically, Mo Jiang gave Master Wuxing the impression of being at the “Initial Refinement” stage. In truth, it was merely an illusion created by the bone armor’s passive enhancement.

The world of cultivation was divided into four realms: Initial Refinement, Gate-Knocking, My Path, and Great Power.

When Mo Jiang removed the bone armor, Master Wuxing immediately believed him. “Your cultivation level is so feeble that you haven’t even reached Initial Refinement… it seems,” he said, kindly choosing his words to spare Mo Jiang’s dignity.

“Master, your insight is peerless. Would you consider accepting me as a disciple?” Mo Jiang asked.

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“Accept you as my disciple?” Master Wuxing was momentarily taken aback, and a troubled look crossed his face. “It’s not that I am unwilling. To have you as a disciple would be a blessing from the Buddha himself. However, my quota for disciples is already full. With vital energy now so depleted, every sect’s quota is strictly limited.”

“But since you have given me such a marvelous forging method, I cannot let you walk away empty-handed. I shall write a recommendation for you to secure a place on the Black Mountain treasure-seeking expedition.”

“Thank you, Master.” Mo Jiang had no idea what or where Black Mountain was; he only wanted to complete the Gate’s mission.

Though the powers in this city were formidable, Mo Jiang feared that if he returned to his home world, all the cultivation he had painstakingly acquired here would be rendered useless.

Who could say if there was any vital energy in his own world?

“Blessings, blessings. Allow me to study this bone armor and skin doll thoroughly tonight. I shall return them to you tomorrow, and my disciple will escort you to Black Mountain.”

Master Wuxing was evidently pleased with Mo Jiang’s attitude. He then pointed outside the car. “Using human bone and skin as materials is an act steeped in baleful energy. Though cultivators have few taboos, excessive use of such materials inevitably leads to a cold temperament, a lack of compassion, and ultimately a fall into the demonic path. Wuwang, the Ghost Monk, was once my junior brother. Alas, today I must personally see him off on his final journey. Amitabha.”

At the utterance of the Buddha’s name, Mo Jiang saw the pale-faced monk outside suddenly freeze. “Senior brother, you actually came…” the monk cried, then collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

A Buddhist soul attempted to flee, dashing toward the nunnery turned ghost domain, but was struck down by the middle-aged Daoist wielding a peachwood sword.

The soul was utterly destroyed, with no hope of resurrection.

“Master Wuxing has taken action himself,” a cultivator murmured, gazing with awe and reverence at the police car in which Mo Jiang now sat.