Chapter 51: Chapter Fifty-One: The True Magic Treasure

"All done!"

With the bulk of the demonic energy divided between the Five Thunder Talisman and the Thunder Seed, Gu Zhao and Daoist Yan Song knew Xu Kongting was dead.

"Doing good deeds accumulates virtue; eliminating evil accumulates merit. So slaying demons and monsters truly has its rewards!" Daoist Yan Song tucked away his face mask and couldn't help but praise.

Just by killing one demon and one ghost, the Thunder Seed had already gathered vast amounts of demonic energy. Though it released slowly and needed time to digest, Daoist Yan Song calculated the gains—and realized this battle’s harvest equaled at least several months of his own hard cultivation.

Gu Zhao’s gains were naturally even greater!

Daoist Yan Song looked at Gu Zhao, a touch envious, and said, "Looks like you’ll surpass me soon."

In pure magical power alone, Daoist Yan Song still surpassed Gu Zhao—he had cultivated for over fifty years, his spiritual attainments reaching over two hundred years, making him a force to be reckoned with in Xiuyue County.

Not to mention that after the Thunder Seed activated his primordial qi and he arrived in this world rich with spiritual energy, his cultivation speed accelerated dramatically; his internal qi grew visibly before their eyes, and with the Thunder Seed’s aid, his future was limitless.

Yet even so, Daoist Yan Song knew he couldn’t match Gu Zhao.

The fact that the Five Thunder Talisman recognized and empowered him meant his character, talent, and innate potential were top-tier. Combined with the Five Thunder Talisman’s power being far superior to the Thunder Seed, as long as he didn’t dig himself into a corner and remained true to his Dao, his growth would only accelerate further.

Gu Zhao smiled faintly. "You still need to work harder, Uncle."

Daoist Yan Song: Õ_Õ

"Alright, alright, let’s search the corpse!" Gu Zhao rubbed his hands together, changing the subject.

Bai Ke jumped down from Xiuniang’s shoulder and landed beside the withered well beneath the ancient locust tree. "So he’d been hiding his own corpse in this well all along."

Daoist Yan Song, skilled in feng shui, said, "The locust tree belongs to wood, the ancestral hall’s lineage to fire, the well below to earth and water—he placed his corpse at the metal point. Perfectly balanced the Five Elements. A fine spot."

Gu Zhao leaned over the well’s mouth. The opening was narrow, the depths pitch-black. He turned to look at Bai Ke.

Bai Ke shuddered, every hair on her tail standing on end. "It looks disgusting down there—I’m not going!"

Gu Zhao raised one index finger. Bai Ke shook her head.

Gu Zhao raised a second finger, the middle one. Bai Ke licked her lips, still shook her head.

Gu Zhao finally raised his ring finger and said softly, "Three at most. Otherwise, I’ll make Xiuniang go down."

"Three five-spice roasted chickens! Deal!"

Bai Ke leapt onto the well’s rim, stretched her limbs, gathered her demonic energy into her eyes, which glowed a vivid green. Then she vanished in a flash along the edge, out of everyone’s sight.

Daoist Yan Song stroked his beard and smiled. Ignoring Bai Ke’s fox form, if one only heard her voice, one might mistake her for a spoiled little girl next door.

Xiuniang had just glanced nervously toward the well when a white shadow shot up, trailing demonic energy that wrapped a small bundle.

As soon as she landed, Bai Ke dispersed her demonic energy, unfurled the bundle, and exclaimed in disbelief, "This old ghost was from the Spirit Court!"

"Rustle—"

The bundle hit the ground, spilling out several items. One emerald-green jade tablet was flicked by Bai Ke’s demonic energy straight into Gu Zhao’s hand.

The jade tablet was half the size of a palm, oval-shaped. The jade itself was ordinary, yet it radiated an unfathomable aura—though this aura clung only to the surface; unless you held the tablet, you sensed nothing.

Gu Zhao examined the tablet. The front bore a crescent moon, with the character "Spirit" above and "Court" below. The back held an incomprehensible pattern, beneath which was engraved the owner’s name: [Xu Kongting].

"Isn’t the Spirit Court an imperial force?" Gu Zhao asked.

Bai Ke replied matter-of-factly, "Of course the Spirit Court is an imperial force. But who told you there aren’t corrupt people inside the imperial court?"

Daoist Yan Song frowned. "But he shouldn’t have openly slaughtered entire villages!"

"He probably betrayed the Spirit Court," Bai Ke said, leaping onto Xiuniang’s shoulder and licking her paw, then pointing to a book scattered from the bundle.

Xiuniang stepped forward, picked up the book, brushed off its dust, and handed it to Gu Zhao with both hands.

Gu Zhao took it and saw five large characters on the cover: [Crimson Demon Corpse Cultivation Art].

He flipped through a couple pages, speechless. "Turn yourself into a Crimson Demon Corpse? What kind of demonic art is this?"

"Seeking immortality, of course," Bai Ke said. "Ordinary sorcerers live only a hundred years. But if you transform yourself into a corpse-ghost, concentrate your soul further—even with low cultivation—you won’t achieve true immortality, but living a few centuries is easy."

In this world, lifespan was closely tied to spiritual attainment—the higher the attainment, the longer the life.

Yet even at the same level of attainment, lifespans varied: ghosts and spirits lived longest, followed by demons and spirit lords, and finally ordinary human sorcerers.

Unless a sorcerer formed a pact with a ghost or demon, unless they surpassed five hundred years of cultivation, they still lived only a hundred years.

Xiuniang puzzled, "He was from the Spirit Court, wasn’t he? If he wanted immortality, why not form a pact with a Spirit Lord?"

Bai Ke flicked her tail. "Probably no Spirit Lord’s soul matched his."

As they chatted casually, they examined Xu Kongting’s other belongings.

Besides the Spirit Court jade tablet and the [Crimson Demon Corpse Cultivation Art], there were scattered gold and silver ornaments, a jade flute of emerald hue, and a fan made of blue bird tail feathers.

"Huh, these two should be magic treasures—why didn’t he use them just now?" Xiuniang sensed the flute and fan were extraordinary.

"Probably because he switched to the [Crimson Demon Corpse Cultivation Art] and can’t use them anymore," Daoist Yan Song guessed. "Besides, his corpse-ghost body itself is already a powerful magic treasure."

"The flute stirs the spirit—it must be activated by spiritual sense," Bai Ke added. "The feather fan is made from the tail feathers of a demonic bird—perfect for demonic energy. If activated with ghostly energy, its power would weaken considerably."

Xiuniang nodded slowly. "I see."

Daoist Yan Song took the flute and fan, unable to put them down. Compared to these two highly refined magic treasures, the jade ruyi he’d clumsily forged on Qingcheng Mountain felt like a child’s toy.

Before this, he’d studied the gold and silver bracelets and great sword Gu Zhao seized from the Golden Wind Sect’s guardian—both clearly ghost-affiliated, radiating chilling cold.

But like Bai Ke’s Celestial Fox Nail, they were merely forged from special materials imbued with demonic yin energy, capable of manipulating or enhancing spells—not true magic treasures.

But this flute and fan were different.

Daoist Yan Song tested them. With spiritual sense, the jade flute stirred mental waves; with magical power, the blue feather fan produced blade-like gusts of wind.

Re-examining with his spiritual perception, he sensed spiritual energy circulating within the artifacts—clearly possessing unique talismanic structures that automatically activated these two spells.

"This is the real thing—a true magic treasure!" Daoist Yan Song sighed.