Unlike the golden cauldron, which held only seven golden Life Patterns, rare and few, the blue cauldron was packed to overflowing, with countless patterns drifting like schools of fish.
Among them, the Shadowstep patterns alone numbered in the dozens, more than enough for his cultivation needs.
With the Xili furnace-spirit sustaining him, his Fate-Flames abundant and stable, Jing Qian could actually cultivate in the Sea of Fate and Spirit itself.
He burned through nine Life-Casting Opportunities, fishing out nine Shadowstep patterns from the blue cauldron. One by one, he reforged them, pushing the art to its absolute peak:
Shadowstep (Violet Eye · Limit)
From its birth to the full consummation of Violet Eye, the progression took him almost no time at all.
From here onward, with just the cost of burning one jiazi (60 years) of lifespan, he could invoke Heavenly Mandate Insight to raise it directly to the Heavenly Mandate tier.
But that was a task for after his ascent into the Dragon-Elephant realm.
For now, Jing Qian still had three taels and six qian of fate-capacity left. His sixth Fatebinding was far from complete.
He plunged his hand once more into the blue cauldron, stirring through the patterns until he pulled forth his second prize:
Flesh-Nurturing Bud
Tier: Blue Blood
"Fresh buds of flesh awaken, roots deep with nourishment!"
Another strong pattern to patch a gap in his system. This was one of the Yanfu Dao's most classic fates for nourishing blood and healing the body.
Cultivated to mastery, it could condense surplus flesh into buds, boosting vigor, restoring wounds, even substituting death with renewal.
Perfect for guarding his mortal vessel, tending his transformations.
Jing Qian didn't demand that his body become invincible, nor did he intend to fight with brute flesh.
He only wished for health, no illness, no decay, no premature death, a body brimming with vital essence.
Without pause, he consumed nine more Flesh-Bud patterns in succession, pushing them as well to Violet Eye Great Perfection.
By now, after refining two complete fates in a row, his Fate-Flames had dwindled to just six.
Everything was unfolding exactly according to his plan.
...
He stepped out of the Yanfu Palace and stood at its threshold, gazing down upon the River of Karmic Flames below.
His spirit-thread sank into the river, scalded by the fire.
Though his soul seared with gnawing pain, he remained utterly calm.
Through the tempering of the karmic flames, he drew two strands of Dao-rhyme into the river itself.
At their call, two streaks of golden light shot up from the riverbed.
With a sweep of his spirit, Jing Qian seized them both, binding them into the Sumeru Dao Stele to be reforged.
They were the final, lingering patterns of Worldly Insight and the Tushita Furnace, each with only a single copy left adrift in the Sea of Fate and Spirit.
A wave of melancholy washed over him.
Unlike Sumeru, which still had an open path, these two Dao-roads had reached their dead ends.
The remaining Golden Root patterns had long been claimed by others.
Though their might had soared, both now carried a glaring flaw of incompleteness.
The resonance tugged at his soul, stirring a wisp of heart-demon that whispered a cruel instinct:
"Find them… devour them!"
At once, a strand of Qingping Sword Qi flashed within, severing the malignant thought and restoring clarity.
But he understood the truth now: by refining such incomplete Golden Root fates, he had inadvertently forged two Dao-enemies.
If he wished to push either Tushita Furnace or Worldly Insight to the Heavenly Mandate tier, he would have to seize the missing patterns
and that meant killing their current holders.
There could be no compromise. This was a path of life and death, where only one side could prevail.
Within his mind, the Yanfu Dao Book shimmered.
And in that light, a fragment of knowledge concerning the Upper Three Realms suddenly imprinted itself deep into his heart.
After the Star-Seizer Realm of the Fourth Rank comes the path of the Upper Three Realms.
Among them, the transitional realm that bridges the middle and upper realms is known as Heaven-Mending.
At this stage, a cultivator must complete their Heavenly Mandate, fully stabilizing their Dao foundation, and seize exclusive ownership of a single, unique Mandate.
This is the fiercest war beneath the Great Dao itself.
The fortunate and powerful possess self-sufficient Mandates with no rivals to contest them and can easily unite three into one, forming uniqueness.
The less fortunate, however, either devour others as nourishment or are devoured in turn.
As for Jing Qian, whether he would eat others or be eaten himself all would depend on his own strength.
...
Thus, as his sixth Fatebinding burned to its close, most of his plans had been achieved.
Only four Fate-Flames remained, just enough to exchange for a final set of patterns within the Sea of Spirit and Fate.
He turned back into the palace, reaching into the green cauldron, and drew forth two Soul-Weaving patterns, refining them without pause.
His first Soul-Weaving, forged later in life, happened to fit perfectly within the system of the Yanfu Dao Book.
With two flames left, he moved to the white cauldron, drawing out two more patterns.
The first was:
Little Ghost
Tier: White Fang
"The little ghost leaps walls, a cold wind whistles through the night!"
Cultivated, it could summon a small, intelligent spirit to pour tea, sweep, and tend the furnace.
As he merged with the Little Ghost, Jing Qian felt a faint consciousness settle upon his left earlobe, but he ignored it.
His focus was on the second pattern:
Ghost Seal
Tier: White Fang
"A ghost carves the seal!"
To forge the Revolving Heavenly Son Seal, the Yanfu Dao's signature Spiritual Construct, one must possess at least one Seal-type spiritual treasure fate.
Within the Yanfu system, four such seals could be used:
Ghost Seal (White Fang)
Striped Official's Seal (Green Wing)
Asura Jade Seal (Blue Blood)
Hell's Black-Cord Seal (Violet Eye)
The higher the tier, the greater the assistance in forging the Heavenly Seal.
But for Jing Qian, the lower the tier, the cheaper the cost of reforging.
If this humble Ghost Seal were eventually raised to Heavenly Mandate level, it could, paradoxically, become the strongest seal within the Yanfu system.
...
Thus, with his Fate-Flames exhausted, Jing Qian's sixth Fatebinding officially came to an end.
Shadowstep, Flesh-Bud, Ghost Seal, and Little Ghost, four new patterns filled out his system, and his strength once again soared.
His soul-form sank back into his body, slipping into deep meditation.
Meanwhile, the Yanfu Palace, having resurfaced in the mortal world for a brief time, once again sank into the River of Karmic Flames.
It descended steadily to the riverbed, settling upon a silver dais.
There it rested beside a tower, a jar, a stove, and a broken, weathered iron sword.
Every one of Jing Qian's past Fatebindings had brought him unique experiences and rewards
, but none had wrought such far-reaching consequences as this most recent one.
...
Meanwhile, at the Blood River Sect, the Five-Fingered Sacred Mountain had been cleaved, one finger severed by a single sword strike, leaving the formation broken and crippled.
The sword-qi of Shangxi had utterly disrupted the sect's geomantic veins, inflicting immense damage upon its fortune.
The sect-protecting array had to be rebuilt from scratch, and the Furnace System of Fate-Fire needed complete reconstruction.
Inside the ancestral temple, two Star-Seizer masters of the sect lit a towering blood-red candle.
Blood-smoke coiled upward, condensing into a vague humanoid shadow.
This was a projection sent across an immeasurable distance; even with immense cultivation, this was the only way to communicate.
Elder Blood Cang spoke first:
"Lord Dao Master, Shangxi has brazenly provoked us at our very gates.
This is a rare opportunity. Shall we join forces with the Mirror-Cloud Shrine and press forward, to drag Pure Yang Ruins down once and for all?"
The distant figure replied in a detached voice:
"This is but a trifle. The Yanfu Palace has reappeared.
Send men to investigate and find out who has returned."
At these words, the two Star-Reachers stiffened in shock, instantly forgetting even the matter of Shangxi.
For the Blood River Sect, ten Pure Yang Ruins could not compare to a single hair of Yanfu.
"Yes, Dao Master!"
...
Far beyond this realm, in unfathomable distance, a three-headed ancient Buddha floated upon a blazing sun, slowly devouring its true solar fire to nourish its cultivation.
One of its heads, bearing the expression of dull obsession, muttered:
"Another has merged with The Worldly Insight…"
The second head, eyes glinting with greed, added:
"I wonder if this lucky soul will survive long enough to stand before us."
The third head, flushed crimson with wrath, snapped furiously:
"The Yingfu Tathāgata Realm is full of trash! Ever since the Ying clan tore apart the Yanfu Stele, broke the Pure Yang Sword, and severed the Shadow World passage, the spine of that entire realm has been shattered."
"Relying on Ying's kennel-bred dogs to crawl out on their own? Better we swallow this sun and march back ourselves!"
This three-faced Buddha was a horrifying sight, embodying greed, anger, and delusion all at once. What branch of Buddhism is practiced, no one could say.
...
On Purple Bamboo Island, beneath a great willow tree, Su Min'er sat idly, speaking to the one-horned pony at her feet:
"Little Colt, I sent Doggie to fetch my brother… the Yin Year is nearly at its end, so why hasn't he returned?"
The pony snorted and replied:
"Miss, I told you that stupid mutt is unreliable, but you insisted on trusting its nonsense."
"I've known that fool dog for almost eight hundred years. The moment it slips its leash, it always stirs up some disaster.
Whenever there's serious business at hand, you can be certain it'll mess it up. Who knows where it's gone wandering this time?"
"Still, the Steward has already sent word. Since the masters of Compassion Hall agreed to take you as a disciple, he says you should cultivate in peace here. But even if Compassion Hall accepts you, I must still take you to the Capital Prefecture Academy for the next Scholarly Festival. According to Imperial law, the Twelve Dao Lineages may only admit true disciples through the triennial festival. If you miss the next one, you'll be too old!"
"Yes, yes, I know…" Su Min'er sighed, then said,
"We'll wait ten more days. If Doggie still hasn't returned, we'll set out for the Capital Prefecture ourselves. Hopefully that silly mutt hasn't provoked some deadly enemy and been stewed into dog meat."
The pony chuckled:
"Unlikely. That mutt may be brainless, but it carries the bloodline of the divine beast Disaster Hound. With a Violet Eye cultivation, surviving in Hunzhou shouldn't be a problem."
...
Meanwhile, in Yang Jia's lair, all was silent. Every powerful great demon had departed to join the Heavenly Sea Banquet.
The area was rife with poisonous fire mists that few ordinary creatures would dare approach.
Yet at that moment, a tiny black dog, no bigger than a palm, slinked stealthily through the shadows.
Hugging the volcanic ridges of the seabed, it scampered to the very heart of the fire-mountain range and dove straight into the molten lava.
"There really is Firefiend Essence here! Hah! Fortune smiles on me at last!"
Doggie had long since forgotten Su Min'er's instructions.
With its uncanny nose, it always sniffed out rare treasures
, though seven or eight times out of ten, its mischiefs and disasters also came from this very "talent."
But this time, luck was finally on Doggie's side.
A trove of Firefiend essence lay here, astonishingly unguarded!
...
The Yin Year had only ten days left.
Ordinarily, this was the climax of the Heavenly Sea Banquet. By now, most seventh-rank Yin Ghosts should have been harvested, and both humans and sea demons would be preparing to divide the spoils.
But this year was utterly different; the Heavenly Sea Banquet had not followed its usual course. Instead, it had collapsed entirely.
Across the vast seas, the croaks of frogs echoed endlessly. The Six-Eyed Golden Toad guarded the last nine surviving treasure ships, desperately retreating toward Hunzhou Island.
When six Violet-Eye Yin Corpses appeared upon the battlefield, even the unflappable Li Yuan nearly broke.
He could not fathom the sea demons' motives.
Those six Yin Corpses were once trusted veterans year after year, comrades who harvested ghosts alongside them.
Why would Yang Jia offer up his own core elites to calamity?
True, this maneuver had ravaged Hunzhou's human forces of thirty-eight ships that set out; only eleven survived.
But with the net torn and the fish dead, how could Yang Jia possibly end the game?
At the front lines, the situation had collapsed entirely.
Six sixth-rank Violet-Eye Yin Corpses, their vitality seemingly endless, rampaged across the sea as though immortal.
By the middle rank, Yin Corpses gained heightened intelligence and unique magical powers.
Now, the six had linked themselves into a colossal formation, sealing off a vast swathe of ocean.
Within that formation, the Divine Roc and Spirit-Avenge Bird (Jingwei) had alighted upon the Hunyi and Hunliang treasure ships.
Relying on their own cultivation and the divine might of seventh-rank treasure ships, the defenders barely withstood the crushing pressure of the formation.
On the other side, Yang Jia's face was ashen. He, too, held up a barrier to resist the assault of the array.
The turn of events had strayed far beyond his expectations. This time, the sea demon clan had suffered a total defeat.
Across the entire region, nearly all seventh- and eighth-rank sea demons had been wiped out, swallowed up by the Yin Year.
Even with his cultivation towering above most, Yang Jia knew there would be no explaining this to the great lords of the deep seas.
If the truth came out that he had been raising eighth-rank kin in secret, exploiting the Yin Year to bleed them for resources, that would be a disaster beyond reckoning.
As for the six Violet-Eye Yin Corpses before him, he hardly cared.
The Yin Year was almost over. Once the cycle ended, no matter how strong a Yin Ghost might be, it was doomed to fade from the mortal world.
At worst, these corpses would rampage for a few more days before collapsing, leaving him with a handful of sixth-rank Yin Bones.
What truly mattered was finding out who had sabotaged him. Someone had maneuvered from the shadows, feeding Yin Ghosts into his ranks.
There was a traitor.
...
Amid the chaos of battle, no one noticed the seawater around them slowly turning crimson.
A faint sweetness drifted on the sea wind.
It was the stench of meddling, but strangely, none of those locked in combat seemed aware.
Time passed. The Yin Year dwindled to its last three days.
The battlefield raged on, a grinding stalemate, neither side able to secure a decisive advantage.
Just when both humans and demons thought this brutal war of attrition would drag itself to a weary close, a new calamity descended.
With a muffled rumble, the sky split open.
Rain began to fall.
Rain was no rare sight during the Yin Year
But this rain was blood.
And under this crimson downpour, every being within the field
human, demon, even the Yin Corpses themselves
froze where they stood, bound and motionless.
Even Yang Jia, one of the great pillars of the sea clans, could not escape.
The mighty overlord who had guarded these waters for millennia… had been subdued without a sound.
When all was still, a blood-red figure rose slowly from beneath the waves.
It was the one who had lurked unseen all along
Wujian, the current Heir Apparent of the Blood River Sect.
He had wagered heavily this day, expending a one-use Spiritual Construct bestowed by his sect. Paired with his unique fate-crafting arts and the power of the Honey-Blood Spiritual Construct, it had taken immense effort to produce such a result.
And with that effort, the entire core of Hunzhou's military strength, human and demon alike, lay trapped in his net.
But Wujian's goal went beyond humiliation.
Without hesitation, he set upon Yang Jia.
This sixth-rank Shark King had cultivated for centuries, his power fierce and methods formidable.
Yet under the thrall of Honey-Blood, he was nothing more than a wooden idol.
Wujian pressed harder. The shark's sixth-rank defenses cracked beneath his arts.
That breach was all it took.
All across the sea, every surviving Yin Ghost suddenly swarmed, pouring into Yang Jia's body as though he were their destined vessel.
One ghost alone could never harm him.
But in a single day, no fewer than 1,300 Yin Ghosts forced their way into his flesh.
And thus, Hunzhou's most feared sixth-rank Violet-Eye overlord began to transform
into a fifth-rank Gold-Root Yin Corpse.
Wujian's eyes gleamed with fevered greed. His calculations, his long weaving of snares, had finally borne fruit.
The Yin Ghosts' final frenzy blazed with terrifying brilliance.
A fifth-rank Yin Corpse, even mindless, radiated power that could blanket the heavens.
As Yang Jia's aura turned chaotic and then surged with new ferocity, the violet glow in his body dimmed,
replaced by the ominous golden radiance unique to the Gold-Root rank, the same as the human race's Earthfiend realm.
The Shark King, ruler of Hunzhou's seas for three millennia, had fallen, devoured by Wujian and his Yin Ghosts.
And then, in the very next heartbeat, another upheaval struck.
-support me in Patreon for more chapter, 55+ chapters in there
patreon.com/LordoftheReader