Chapter 36: The Eruption of the Curse's Power

Just like that, Wu Shu entered the Flame Pagoda. Seeing an extra glimmer of light at the very top of the tower, Wu Xiang could hardly believe his eyes. Had the Flame Pagoda truly yielded simply because of the threat posed by the stele?

In truth, the moment the Stele Spirit appeared, the Flame Pagoda’s own spirit had sensed its extraordinary nature and been gripped by anxiety.

Upon entering, a suffocating pressure bore down on him. Had he not immediately borrowed the power from the spirit stones on his person, Wu Shu would have been forced to his knees.

Directly before him stood a woman dressed in a fiery red phoenix robe. Her back was turned to him, and though she remained silent, she emanated an overwhelming sense of authority.

After a moment, she spoke: "Little one, you have finally appeared?"

The mysterious woman’s words left Wu Shu bewildered. What did she mean by "finally appeared"? It sounded as if she had been waiting here for him all along.

Attempting to maintain his composure, Wu Shu asked, "May I ask which great expert you are? And why are you inside the Wu family's Flame Pagoda?"

The woman ignored his question. "The Flame Pagoda appeared in the Wu family for the sole purpose of waiting for your arrival. Now that you are here, my ten thousand years of guarding the Wu family have not been in vain. Little one, I know you have many questions, but I will only tell you this: you are currently too weak. Regardless of your confusion, you must do everything in your power to increase your strength first."

She continued, "There are many treasures within the Flame Pagoda. More importantly, the Tower Spirit possesses a secret technique that will be of great use to you. I hope you can shatter the shackles of your bloodline curse in the shortest time possible."

With those words, the woman vanished into thin air, and the oppressive aura she had projected dissipated with her.

After she vanished, Wu Shu searched the entire top floor of the pagoda, but found absolutely nothing. He recalled the woman’s claim that there were many treasures inside, yet the top floor was barren.

Wu Shu wanted to shout, "What is going on? Where are the promised treasures?" Nevertheless, he refused to be discouraged; the pagoda had sixteen levels, each with vast space.

He descended to the fifteenth level. In its center stood a tall stone. Upon closer inspection, he found a line of small characters carved into it: *Surprised? Didn't expect this? There are no treasures on this floor either.*

By the time he reached the ninth level, he saw another large stone in the center and was beyond speechless. What was this? Were so many levels empty just for a prank?

However, the inscription on the ninth level’s stone was different: *Tremble, youth.* Wu Shu was at a loss; it was just another broken rock, and he had yet to see a single treasure. How was this supposed to make him tremble?

Before he knew it, he had reached the second level. To his surprise, there was no stone in the center, but the space was just as empty. Wu Shu felt his temper rising. Where were the promised treasures? Was there not even one? Yet, when he reached the first level, his eyes were met with a sea of weapons. He was overjoyed—the treasures were here after all!

But when he walked closer and picked one up, he realized they were all common, mortal-grade weapons. Even though Wu Shu was no master blacksmith, he had known the classification of weapons since he was six years old.

Mortal weapons are divided into ordinary, low-grade, mid-grade, high-grade, top-grade, and transcendent-grade. Ordinary mortal weapons are the most common items on the market, ubiquitous and cheap.

Looking at the scene before him, Wu Shu wanted to explode. Where were the promised treasures? How could there not be a single one?

At this point, he remembered the Tower Spirit mentioned by the mysterious woman. "Tower Spirit, come out!" he demanded.

The Tower Spirit took the form of a little girl made of flame. Though the pagoda had been nurturing a spirit for ten millennia, it had not yet fully matured. Summoned by Wu Shu, the fiery little girl appeared timidly.

Seeing how weak the spirit was, Wu Shu feared that showing too much temper might frighten it into dissipating. Reluctantly, he went against his conscience and said, "My heavens! How can such a cute spirit exist?"

Although the spirit lacked high intelligence, it could understand Wu Shu’s smile. Because it was still young and in an unformed state, verbal communication was difficult.

Seeing the spirit relax, Wu Shu approached with a kind smile, mimicking the gesture of a doting father patting a child’s head. Even though the spirit had no physical form, he acted as if he were actually touching it.

The spirit was easily fooled. Feeling the care of this "kind father," it was delighted.

Seeing this, Wu Shu said gently, "Little Tower Spirit, look, we get along so well. Have you forgotten to bring out some treasures to celebrate?"

At the reminder, the spirit seemed to remember something. It turned and scurried toward a pile of broken swords, digging through them.

Watching the spirit, Wu Shu thought to himself, "This thing looks weak, but its spiritual power seems quite formidable."

Before long, the spirit returned, holding a tattered book. Wu Shu knew this must be the secret technique the mysterious woman had mentioned.

After taking the book, he realized it didn't even have a title. Upon opening it, the pages were filled with messy scribbles, and he felt a headache coming on. He even doubted if this scrap of paper could truly help a descendant of the Wu family break their bloodline curse.

He finished reading it quickly. It was merely a simple breathing technique. Unlike standard methods, this one instructed those afflicted by the bloodline curse not to fear it, but to embrace the curse's erosion of the body, guide that erosive force into the acupoints, and refine it little by little. Over time, the practitioner could convert the curse into their own immense power.

Wu Shu had to admit that if anyone could succeed in this, they would truly be a person of immense courage and talent.

He returned the nameless technique to the spirit and looked around once more. The book was his only harvest; as for everything else, it was as good as non-existent.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Even if there isn't a single decent treasure in the Flame Pagoda, the concentration of spiritual energy here is exceptionally high," he consoled himself.

He sat cross-legged and began to circulate his Mysterious Technique. "My strength is low, and my bloodline power has not yet awakened. How am I to use this breathing method to guide the curse into my acupoints?"

The Tower Spirit, watching him, seemed to understand human cultivation. It began drawing the intense heat from the higher levels of the pagoda down into the first floor. Soon, the temperature began to rise significantly.

Immersed in his cultivation, Wu Shu was suddenly perplexed. He was trying to refine his internal energy, yet his physical body, already at the peak of the ninth stage of Body Refining, felt as if it were about to break through to the Barbarian Bull Realm.

Waves of external force bombarded his body, strengthening it with every impact. Suddenly, he possessed the physical strength of twenty adult barbarian bulls.

As his internal power surged, a dark force—outside his control—emerged from within his bloodline.

In terms of physical refinement, he had reached the Barbarian Bull Realm; in terms of Earth Force, he had just entered the True Essence Realm. But within his bloodline, a demonic curse, reminiscent of ancient, primordial power, erupted. It flooded his entire body, the relentless stinging pain causing sweat to pour down his face.

Enduring unimaginable agony, he muttered, "Speak of the devil..."

Despite his physical suffering, his spiritual strength—which was equivalent to a hundred thousand years of cultivation—allowed him to keep the Mysterious Technique circulating through his meridians, though the flow of energy had become incredibly difficult.

After three cycles, he realized he could not refine energy the traditional way; the curse's erosion of his body was far beyond his imagination.

Since the breathing technique was his only hope, he immediately followed the instructions to guide the curse into his acupoints.

It took a full hour to channel the erupting curse into his meridians. The agonizing pain subsided, yet Wu Shu’s brow remained furrowed.

"Damn demons," he said in a low, cold voice. "If I grow strong enough in the future, I will uproot you all. Only then will I be able to avenge the secret suffering endured by the ancestors of the Wu family."

The Tower Spirit, having been frightened by Wu Shu’s earlier agony, retreated to the side, looking guilty. It believed that the pain had been caused by it raising the temperature of the first floor too high.