Chapter Twenty-Six: The Twelve Spirit Beasts
The inner demon was a thing neither immortals nor cultivators wished to confront. For Qin Shuang, its seeds had already taken root since he first ascended from the lower worlds. The death of Lei Shan, coupled with his vengeful frenzy, finally ignited its eruption. As Qin Shuang plummeted from the heavens, the immortal force within him became a chaotic maelstrom, and the color of his nascent soul shifted ceaselessly.
Pain was now the only thing Qin Shuang could feel. The outbreak of his inner demon had been sudden and severe—he was already bordering on true deviation. If he could not overcome this trial, utter annihilation of body and soul would be the most merciful outcome; otherwise, a fate worse than death awaited.
Curled upon the earth, Qin Shuang’s eyes blazed crimson, immortal energy rampaged uncontrollably through him, and beneath him, the ground had caved into a deep, circular pit.
Within the depths of Qin Shuang’s soul, a fierce battle raged.
His body was no longer his to command; all he could do was fiercely guard the last sanctuary of his soul. From the moment the inner demon broke free, Qin Shuang had sensed disaster and made his preparations, yet he never imagined its power would be so overwhelming, wresting control of his body in a mere instant.
His soul had yet to condense a soul-gold core; it remained a misty, insubstantial wraith typical of an ordinary immortal. Now, half his soul-sea had been stained black. Should the darkness engulf his entire soul, he would lose all consciousness and become a true fiend.
The remaining half enveloped his awareness, and he clung desperately to it, mustering all effort to contest the encroaching darkness for what ground remained.
Soul Refinement of Three Souls and Nine Temperings—this was the soul-cultivating technique once practiced by Qin Yu, and only Qin Shuang had continued down this path. Qin Si’s soul had long since reached the upper realm of the Celestial Gods, with access to far superior methods.
Within the misty soul, a translucent figure formed seals with trembling hands. With half his soul overtaken, many seals eluded him, leaving only a few simple ones that he repeated again and again.
A thunderous boom resounded.
Qin Shuang did not know how long he had persisted in weaving these seals. He only remembered his mind going blank, and then, all was darkness.
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Ten years after Qin Shuang’s arrival on the Infinite Continent, a piece of news swept across the land, stirring every reclusive master and the experts of the great powers into action.
Cultivation on the Infinite Continent was slow, and its denizens knew only the realm of immortals. Until this news broke, none realized that above immortals existed the gods—godhood being the ultimate destiny for immortals.
Twelve spirit beasts appeared on the continent, each carrying a divine artifact. Whoever could win the approval of a spirit beast would be eligible to undertake the Trial of the Path to Heaven. Becoming a god was merely the lowest reward; those who passed would earn a mysterious weapon of unimaginable power.
The entire continent was thrown into a frenzy. Native immortals and those unknown cultivators and immortals transmitted here by Ruan Lingyu alike were swept up in excitement. The lure of godhood was irresistible to all.
Perhaps the only one untouched by this news was Qin Si. Over the past decade, he had tried countless ways but had found no path home.
Another who remained unaffected was Qin Shuang, still lost in unconsciousness. Over ten years, the pit where he lay had become a lake, his body deeply buried at its bottom, curled up as before.
Within his soul, the blackness receded day by day. Even in his coma, his hands instinctively formed those simple seals, and over ten years, this automatic motion had reclaimed two-thirds of his soul-sea.
Thirty years passed, and the continent remained fixated on the rumor of ascension. Every city’s chief concern was news of the twelve spirit beasts. It was said that one city had found a spirit beast, but its strength far exceeded their expectations—none of the immortals sent returned alive. Only a lone cultivator at the Great Ascension stage survived by sheer luck to spread word of the spirit beast’s might.
What he did not know was that the spirit beast had not slain him out of contempt. Each of the twelve beasts now on the continent possessed the power of an eighth-level Immortal Emperor and carried a low-grade divine artifact.
In these thirty years, Qin Shuang’s soul transformed to brilliant gold, with only a trace of darkness remaining. It would not be long before the inner demon was completely purged.
Ten years later, Qin Shuang slowly opened his eyes. The blackness within his soul had disappeared seven years prior, but the wounds ran deep; only after a further seven years of rest did he awaken.
“My soul already stands at the peak of the ninth level, and my strength is now that of an eighth-level Immortal Emperor!” Qin Shuang found these changes strange but undeniably fortunate.
He carefully examined his physical state and was deeply satisfied. This ordeal had proved a blessing in disguise—not only had his strength grown, but his soul had made tremendous strides, needing just one more step to condense the soul-gold core and enter the soul-realm of the gods.
After the inner demon, Qin Shuang’s outlook broadened. He sensed, faintly, that there were things in fate not so easily changed.
With increased strength and his burdens set down, he felt only the need to fulfill one promise regarding Lei Shan—a difficult task for him, perhaps, but trivial for any God King in Misty City. Qin Shuang found himself free of all attachments.
Unburdened, his view of the Infinite Continent changed utterly; what had once been a place of enmity now became a land to explore. With his current power, he was among the continent’s true elites.
He came to Heavenseal City, one of the larger cities of the Infinite Continent, boasting over a hundred immortals. The city lord, Feng Po Tian, was an eighth-level Golden Immortal and one of the most powerful among his peers. On this continent, every city was ruled by a Golden Immortal; Immortal Emperors dwelled high above in their sect headquarters, far removed from mundane governance.
Qin Shuang now disguised himself as a cultivator of the Great Ascension stage, strolling through Heavenseal City. He chose an inn popular among cultivators—a place open only to their kind.
World’s End Tavern—a rather unremarkable name. Inside, over thirty cultivators of varying stages sat in groups, drinking and conversing, while on stage a young woman of the Nascent Soul stage performed a dance.
Qin Shuang took a seat at an empty table and ordered two bottles of the inn’s finest wine, paying with spirit stones he’d acquired from Situ Jian, since his own divine and spirit stones were useless here.
“Brother, you seem unfamiliar—are you perhaps from another city?” No sooner had his wine arrived than a cultivator in the middle stage of Tribulation sidled over. Qin Shuang noticed this man had also been sitting alone, and before his arrival, had been the highest-ranked guest present.
“I’m from Lotus Flower City,” Qin Shuang replied with a gentle smile, taking one bottle for himself as the other man unceremoniously helped himself to the second.
“Lotus Flower City is quite far from here. You must be on the verge of immortality and traveling to broaden your horizons, is that right?”
“Exactly, fellow Daoist. You are perceptive,” Qin Shuang replied amiably.
He had not expected, however, that this admission would earn him a strange look from the man, who then burst out laughing.
“Brother, you’re not being honest. No one travels for leisure these days; everyone is searching for the twelve spirit beasts. I was making small talk, and you actually admitted it!”
The Tribulation-stage cultivator’s laughter drew the attention of others in the inn, who looked at Qin Shuang with a mix of sympathy and faint amusement.
“Dear guest, please don’t take offense—Ma Gui is always like this,” the innkeeper hurried over to smooth things over. The ‘Ma Gui’ he referred to was the Tribulation-stage cultivator.
“Oh? And what sort of temperament does he have? I may be a stranger here, but I’m not to be trifled with.” Qin Shuang’s voice was mild, but as he released the aura of a Great Ascension cultivator, those unable to gauge his true power quickly realized he was the strongest present.
“Please forgive us. Ma Gui is known for his loose tongue and has offended many, but he is the last disciple of Bao Zhongxiong, a fourth-level Golden Immortal in our city. I hope you won’t take offense.” The innkeeper, himself a Void Fusion cultivator, instantly recognized Qin Shuang’s superior cultivation and revealed Ma Gui’s background.
Although Ma Gui’s words had been somewhat cutting, they were not untrue. The innkeeper could not afford to offend either party, and so tried to make peace, fearing that if a fight broke out, his business would be ruined and his tavern destroyed.
“Very well, I won’t hold it against him. But you can tell me—what is this business about the twelve spirit beasts?” Fourth-level Golden Immortals were beneath Qin Shuang’s notice, but his temperament had changed. What once might have angered him now earned only a smile.
At this, not only Ma Gui but all the other cultivators and even the innkeeper stared at Qin Shuang in astonishment, momentarily forgetting to answer.
The twelve spirit beasts were the hottest topic on the continent, known even among mortals. For a Great Ascension cultivator not to know about them was more unbelievable than seeing a spirit beast appear before their very eyes.