In the sect...
“Hey, wanna go for it?” a disciple asked, leaning casually against a stone pillar.
“What are you talking about?” replied another, a young man with an earnest expression.
“To hunt that ‘demon cultivator.’ Can’t you see how tempting the bounty is? Five middle spiritual stones and one upper-grade weapon!”
The honest-looking disciple frowned. “Are you out of your mind? That demon cultivator is sinister. He even killed a Rank 2 cultivator! As much as I hate killers, I don’t have the strength to face someone like that.”
The first disciple laughed, shaking his head. “You actually believe that nonsense? My ancestor is Rank 3 and affiliated with the Linglong family, so I know the truth. It wasn’t a demon cultivator who killed the chamber of commerce members—it was Linglong’s order. The guy on the poster just offended her, and he’s at most a peak Rank 1 cultivator.”
“What?” The honest disciple’s face turned pale. “Then why is the sect spreading lies? What’s the difference between a demon and a righteous cultivator if this is how they act?”
“You still don’t understand the horror of this world, junior brother.” The first disciple clapped him on the shoulder, smirking. “As long as Linglong’s family doesn’t touch the sect’s interests, they don’t care. In fact, they’ll probably earn a favor from her family for playing along. And trust me, a favor from the Linglong family is worth a bit of dishonesty. Whether or not they honor that favor? That’s another story entirely.”
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The honest disciple fell silent, his gaze dropping to the ground.
…
Yanwei stood at the entrance of the sect, looking at the barren landscape within.
“Finally, I’m back,” he muttered, taking in the emptiness around him. “This sect is as desolate as ever. No wonder it’s called the most secretive sect in the Yun Continent. Still, I’d guess they’re all preparing for the secret realm.”
His lips curled into a smile. “Good. It’s more convenient this way. Thank heavens I impersonated a loner. No one’s going to bother me.”
In his private room, Yanwei leaned against the door, locking it securely. His calm expression darkened as he removed a storage ring from his finger, releasing a corpse into the center of the room.
“Now,” he muttered, staring at the lifeless body, “should I refine this into a corpse puppet? Or should I just absorb it?” He tapped his chin, weighing his options.
After a long pause, he smirked. “No, refining it into a puppet would be better—for now. I can trust the dead far more than the living. Besides, this will be perfect for intercepting those so-called geniuses.”
Yanwei snapped his fingers, activating the array he’d drawn across the floor. The air shimmered as spiritual energy surged around the corpse, seeping into it like threads of light. He observed carefully, his expression unreadable.
But his gaze shifted to the small void within his body—the Growth Space granted by his merit. It looked as empty as ever, its potential untapped.
Yanwei frowned. “This merit is practically useless if I can’t find a way to fill it. A ‘Growth Space,’ but no resources to grow with. How ironic.”
He stared at the void for what felt like hours, running through possibilities in his mind. His fingers tapped against the floor rhythmically, his irritation mounting.
Finally, an idea struck. His lips curled into a sly smile. “That’s it. Why not create a corpse army? If I can’t trust anyone, I’ll rely on the dead to do my work. It’ll be a good distraction while I hunt cultivators myself.”
He glanced at the half-refined puppet before him, his eyes gleaming. “The scattered cultivators will do nicely. I’ll hunt them down and harvest their corpses to fill my Growth Space, transforming them into my loyal corpse puppets.”
Yanwei let out a quiet laugh as he stood, his resolve strengthening. “It’s time to hunt.”