Mayfly Phantom Body Art

Delivering the final strike, burning the remains, and crushing the ashes.

Only after finishing this standard set of the Yang Clan's aftermath procedures did Yang Lingrui's taut expression finally relax a fraction.

He then realized that his entire body was trembling. His hands and feet were ice-cold, his scalp burned, and the heavy "thump, thump" from his chest was so loud it felt as though his heart might leap out of his throat.

Still somewhat in disbelief and terrified this was merely a dream, he summoned a blade of astral wind and sliced a gash across his palm.

Only when blood slid down his arm, bringing with it warmth and stinging pain, did Yang Lingrui utterly relax.

He had succeeded!

This singular, fleeting opportunity-he had actually seized it!

The moment his mind unwound, Yang Lingrui collapsed to the ground, awash in the feeling of having survived a calamity.

He did not rashly search Wang Weiming's remains, nor did he harbor any intent to snatch his Storage Bag.

A Condensed Origin cultivator of Lone Moon Mountain was waiting right outside.

The possessions of a disciple at Wang Weiming's level were not easy to take; heaven only knew what subsequent tracking arts Lone Moon Mountain might possess.

Being able to kill him in this hidden place was already an immense stroke of luck.

Yang Lingrui sat up, took a moment to regulate his breath, and walked over to the high platform.

Through the drifting smoke, he could not clearly see the contents of the stone tablet.

After testing it a few times with minor techniques, Yang Lingrui reached out to pick it up.

The instant his fingertip touched the stone tablet, a flood of memories poured into Yang Lingrui's Sea of Consciousness.

Along with it came a surge of pure spiritual power!

Yang Lingrui only felt a wave of warmth spread through his body as his cultivation realm surged upward.

Within a few breaths, his realm broke through to the sixth level of Qi Gathering and stabilized at its absolute peak.

His face showed no joy over the breakthrough, for he was straining to digest the influx of information in his Sea of Consciousness.

Half an hour later, Yang Lingrui's clouded gaze regained its clarity.

He had fully digested the knowledge within his Sea of Consciousness, and the stone tablet on the platform simultaneously turned to ash and drifted away.

"Mayfly Phantom Body Art..."

Yang Lingrui murmured softly.

Having absorbed the tablet's information, this late-stage Condensed Origin movement art was now firmly branded into his mind.

The art was divided into two parts: Mayfly Footwork and Feather-Ascension Phantom Body.

The Mayfly Footwork was the foundation; once mastered, it could drastically enhance a cultivator's movement speed and agility.

The Feather-Ascension Phantom Body was a technique that could be executed utilizing this footwork.

Once achieved, the cultivator could condense a phantom body identical to themselves at any time.

This phantom body would retain the original cultivator's realm and aura, and could even mimic them to release simple techniques. However, it lasted for only a very short time and would dissipate prematurely if attacked.

"What a true treasure! It can be remarkably effective for both preserving one's life and overcoming enemies!"

Yang Lingrui praised inwardly.

With this technique, he had finally filled the void of the Yang Clan's lack of movement technique inheritances.

Once he returned home, he would transcribe a copy and have all his siblings practice it!

Crack-

With the inheritance taken, a stone door opened at the rear of the hidden chamber.

Yang Lingrui took one last look at the scatter of black ash left by Wang Weiming, then turned and walked toward the exit.

......

Chongtian City, Chengtian Academy, Imperial Spirit Hall.

A young boy in red, his hair tied up in a skyward braid, held a palm-sized broom in one hand, sweeping dust from the corners of a long table.

On this table rested a neat arrangement of various wooden carvings.

There were long snakes, soaring birds, strange insects, ghostly entities, and rare spiritual materials.

The table was divided into three tiers.

The first tier held eighty-one wooden carvings, the second tier thirty-six, and the third tier only nine.

The vast majority of the carvings had a cluster of floating flame burning above their heads.

For a small number of them, the flame had already gone out.

The boy in red cleaned from top to bottom. When he reached the first tier, he noticed a carving of a small insect with a twin-pointed tail and two wings on its back; the flame above it had extinguished.

"Master! Master!"

The boy in red shouted in surprise, jogging all the way out of the room to address an old man resting in the shade of a large elm tree in the courtyard. "The Mayfly's fire has been taken too!"

"Mm."

The old man fanned himself and responded softly, "Child, if your master's memory serves, is that inheritance called the Mayfly Phantom Body Art?"

"To answer Master! It is indeed the Condensed Origin movement technique, the Mayfly Phantom Body Art!"

The boy in red stood at attention and added, "Counting this one, out of the twenty-four secret treasure grounds this time, five inheritances have already been claimed!"

"Good. I understand."

The old man nodded, sitting up as he asked, "Child, how is the situation in the Black Snake Hidden Cache?"

"To answer Master, the Black Snake carving is heavy with death qi. More and more cultivators inside are dying," the boy in red replied.

The strangeness of this Black Snake Hidden Cache had actually begun twenty years ago.

The flame symbolizing the hidden cache's inheritance had been extinguished after it opened twenty years prior.

Yet, during its opening ten years ago, it ignited once more, only to go out again.

This time, two days after the hidden cache opened, the flame flared to life once more and had remained burning until now.

"That person has actually survived another ten years. They truly have some skill."

The old man stroked his long beard, speaking slowly. "If he can survive this time as well, then I will bestow the Dragon-Transformation Pill upon him and grant him a path to Condensed Origin."

Hearing this, the boy in red curled his lip.

"Master, since you've said those words, I'm afraid this person's fate is doomed."

"Hey! You little brat!"

The old man raised a hand as if to strike him.

The boy in red quickly clutched his head and scurried to the side. "Wasn't it the same for that person in the Cloud Serpent Cave Heaven last time? He endured in there for a hundred years and was right on the verge of success! But the moment you, venerable master, said, 'I observe his aura, today shall be the day of his success,' what happened? He was struck dead by lightning in the end!"

"And what about that old Daoist hiding in the Earthfire Cave Heaven? He had already successfully refined his Pill! Yet you opened your mouth and said, 'This man has good fortune; when he emerges, I shall address him as Fellow Daoist.' What happened? He died from the backlash of Pill toxicity!"

"Now you've said it again. I'd say this person has just wasted twenty years of effort for nothing~"

Having spoken his piece, the boy in red saw his master stand up and start looking around the ground for a branch. He spun on his heel and vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.

"Hey! This little bastard! You're really infuriating this old man!"

He blew his beard in anger, plopping back down in his seat indignantly.

"Fine! Then I'll change it! This time in the Black Snake Hidden Cache, no matter who obtains the final Fated Chance, as long as they can bring it out, I will bestow that precious Pill upon them!"

......

Mayfly Treasure Ground, entrance.

Five Condensed Origin cultivators sat suspended in midair, tacitly maintaining a set distance from one another.

Three of them were not local cultivators from Zhuhu; they were merely here to handle sect affairs, so they had no desire to entangle themselves in too much karma.

The Dao-protecting cultivator from Lone Moon Mountain felt the same.

He was already growing impatient, eager to send this flock of disciples back early so he could return to the Moon-Grasping Sect.

Crack...

Crunch!

Suddenly, an object within his robes shattered.

The cultivator was momentarily stunned before his expression shifted drastically.

"How is this possible! How could something happen to him!"

In disbelief, he cupped the shattered jade plaque in his hands. It bore the name Wang Weiming.

Sensing the anomaly, the other four Condensed Origin cultivators subtly extended their Divine Sense toward him.

Noting this, the Lone Moon Mountain cultivator glared at them and declared, "My man is dead! None of you are to leave with your people later; I will question everyone!"

"Heh, Fellow Daoist, what an interesting thing to say. The treasure ground is fraught with countless dangers. When does it not claim lives?"

"Well said. People dying is hardly a rarity."

"Indeed. If every faction that lost someone demanded an interrogation, none of us would have time to cultivate the Dao. We'd all just sit at the entrance of the secret treasure grounds and bicker all day."

Looking for more free chapters? Visit www.skynovelvault.com to read over 5,000 free chapters and continue exploring more stories from SkyNovelVault.

88.181.249.5

ns88.181.249.5da2