Chapter Sixty-three: The Serpent Pool

“So these two renegade demonfolk were also searching for that black jade thumb ring…”

From the bundles carried by the two renegades, Qi Xiu found nothing but a jumble of miscellaneous items. Among them, however, was a scroll made of slick, clammy skin-paper, exuding an eerie, cold, and sticky sensation.

“Scripture of the Hidden Scales from the Azure Pool.”

“A spell manual?”

He curiously unrolled the damp and chilling scroll, casually picked up a mountain rabbit-hair brush, and with a flourish, inscribed several warding sigils. These quickly dispelled the sinister energies meant to prevent others from prying.

Feeling the cold aura dissipate, Qi Xiu twisted his fingers and unfurled the entire scroll. Nearly three meters long, the scroll lay spread across the floor of the main hall. Qi Xiu gathered his sleeves, gazing thoughtfully at the strange, writhing symbols—half script, half cipher.

To the likes of Yuan Baiyi and Jin Tai, Qi Xiu was always seen as a prodigy who mastered both martial arts and the arcane. Yet only Qi Xiu knew that his so-called spells were really miraculous transformations of his calligraphy, cloud talisman techniques fundamentally different from true sorcery. He himself did not wield genuine spells.

This “Scripture of the Hidden Scales from the Azure Pool” was the first spell manual he had ever encountered.

He carefully studied the symbols and marks on the scroll, his eyes probing for their meaning. In the depths of his consciousness, the mysterious principle of reward for effort began to stir. Strands of inspiration converged in his mind, culminating in a sudden surge of insight.

Qi Xiu’s eyes brightened; enlightenment struck. Previously obscure and inscrutable symbols now danced vividly before his gaze. Whole sections of spellcraft emerged in his mind. The power system was entirely foreign—exciting in its novelty. In turbulent times, every extra bit of strength meant another card to play.

All through the night, the lamps burned bright.

As dawn broke, birds sang and insects chirped. Qi Xiu let out a long breath, folded his hands behind his head, and lay on the floor, his eyes glowing with excitement.

“So the difference between spells and martial arts is truly vast. No wonder Jin Tai and Yuan Baiyi were so shocked when they learned I practiced both.”

Those who cultivate spells, before entering the Path, pass through three stages like martial artists: Seeking the Way, Rooting the Foundation, and Wisdom of the Heart.

Yet unlike martial artists, who must reach the True Intent stage to wield miraculous powers with inner energy, spellcasters can manifest supernatural effects as soon as they attain the Seeking stage. Although their power is slight, it is still a tangible, extraordinary force.

This also meant that the threshold for spellcraft was exceptionally high, a true one in a hundred. Compared to martial training, spell practice courted danger—one misstep could bring disastrous backlash. Many perished during cultivation. Thus, the world saw many martial artists, but few spellcasters.

After resting briefly, Qi Xiu rose and retrieved the black jade thumb ring from the secret compartment.

“It’s a fine item, but the conditions for use are far too demanding.”

Gazing at the thumb ring sealed in oil paper, Qi Xiu propped his chin with one hand, pondering silently.

The thumb ring was called “Jiao Pool,” a spell artifact exclusively tied to the “Scripture of the Hidden Scales from the Azure Pool.” To wield it, one needed not only to understand the ritual incantations, but also to possess matching spell power. Without both, it was useless.

“Should I learn another spell?”

He glanced at his proficiency panel and rubbed his brow. As the saying goes, don’t bite off more than you can chew. The various skills he had mastered already occupied nearly all his daily hours: Calligraphy, Purple Ultimate True Arts, Alchemy, Painting, Shadowless Trickery… Each skill served its purpose. Adding spellcraft would inevitably encroach on time reserved for other training.

“Why can’t there be eighty hours in a day?”

Scratching his head, Qi Xiu felt acutely the difficulty of becoming a hexagonal warrior. The time needed for growth was simply too long.

“Yet…”

Looking at the Jiao Pool ring in his hand, Qi Xiu licked his lips. Its miraculous powers made his heart itch. Before, ignorance brought indifference; now, knowing its potential, locking it away felt unbearably frustrating.

…

“Young master, word from home. Both renegade demonfolk came from the Blood Pact. It’s said that recently their sub-temple at White Pear Ravine has been restless, with many members venturing out, all seemingly searching for a spell artifact. What exactly they seek, the family hasn’t yet determined.”

Handing a secret letter to Song Tingye, Sun Yueting’s expression was grave.

The Blood Pact was considered a quasi-elite demon force in Dianchuan Province, with numerous branches and a membership that mixed demons, evil cultivators, and renegade demonfolk. Their members suddenly appearing in Baohe County was clearly bad news.

“The Blood Pact? Searching for a spell artifact?”

Images of wandering sorcerers from years past flickered through Song Tingye’s mind as he folded the letter.

“Has the identity of the black-clad man been found?”

“We investigated. The family reports his inner energy was deep purple with pure yang qualities—much like the military-circulated Purple Sun True Arts. Yet, from what I know, though those arts are pure yang, the energy is gentle and inward. That man’s attacks were fierce, dominating, utterly unlike the Purple Sun True Arts,” Sun Yueting replied.

“Young master, what if we can’t locate him?”

“If we can’t, then so be it.”

Rising, Song Tingye burned the secret letter over the candle flame, the firelight dancing in his eyes.

“This man intervened to save you, so he’s hardly a villain. The county’s old registry officers never mentioned such a master in Baohe County, suggesting he is of a free spirit, likely living here in seclusion. Such people abide by the rule: ‘If others do not trouble me, I will not trouble them.’ In critical moments, he might even lend us a hand.”

“A critical moment? You mean…”

Sun Yueting’s expression shifted, his brows furrowing.

“Demonfolk and evil cultivators are twisted in nature, vicious and cruel, unlike ordinary folk. Having suffered setbacks in Baohe County, they will not rest. Perhaps the Blood Pact’s next wave is already en route.”

After burning the letter, Song Tingye calmly took his seat, a smile curling at his lips.

“This county has been fretting over how to bolster support and gather people. The Blood Pact is truly considerate—using their own members’ lives to help me ascend. A great benevolence, indeed. Yueting, select a hundred robust young men, aged around twenty. I still have a set of armored talismans. This act will be grand; we must not falter. Also, tell the family to send a batch of golden ginseng.”

“Golden ginseng? Young master, your monthly quota was spent last month. If you request more, the medicine vault may not approve,” Sun Yueting said awkwardly.

“Ah… then inform the vault to charge it to Jiu Fang’s account. He’s gained both fame and fortune in Qingliu County—he should contribute. Since it’s on his tab, have the vault send two extra batches, at least of superior grade.”

Song Tingye nodded earnestly.

“Three batches of golden ginseng—so much might be harmful, young master,” Sun Yueting said, concerned.

“It’s not for me. I’ll use the ginseng as a gift to invite that mysterious master into our circle. With him on our side, my foundation in Baohe County will be even firmer. As a martial artist, he cannot refuse golden ginseng. If I can last until I enter the Path, no matter the cost, even more ginseng would be worth it.”

A gleam flickered in Song Tingye’s eyes, his words filled with determination. It seemed the opportunity to enter the Path was already firmly in his grasp!

…