Chapter 11: High Grade Magical Artifact, Ten Thousand Soul Banner!

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Chen Ge suddenly pointed at a severed head on the ground, his voice pitching up in shock.

"That face! I know him! It's Wei Peng, ranked ninth among the Shengang Sect's inner disciples! The bastard is a master at the seventh layer of Qi Condensation!"

"He killed two of our inner sect Senior Brothers!"

Xu Ming, Wei Hua, and the rest of the fleeing Demonic Cultivators snapped their heads around, a cold sweat breaking out on their backs.

Wei Peng was leagues above them in strength. And now he was just... dead?

They scanned the surrounding clearing. The earth was undisturbed. No scorched trees, no shattered boulders.

The three Shengang Sect disciples had been slaughtered without putting up a fight. Who could have done this?

Chen Ge swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Do you think... I mean, is it possible that Senior Brother Chu killed them?"

Xu Ming scoffed, immediately dismissing the thought. "Impossible. Chu Xuan is only at the fourth layer of Qi Condensation. On his best day, he might take down someone at the fifth layer."

"Moreover, there are three corpses here. You think he fought a one-on-three battle and butchered them this cleanly?"

"To kill these three instantly, you'd need to be at least at the eighth layer of Qi Condensation."

Chen Ge and Wei Hua exchanged glances, silently agreeing. It was an absurd notion.

"Hurry up and move," Xu Ming urged, a greedy excitement flickering in his eyes. "Whoever killed them did us a massive favor."

"We can burn some incense to thank our mysterious benefactor once we're safe."

The others nodded in fervent agreement. The five Demonic Cultivators quickened their pace, melting into the dense mountain forest.

...

Miles away, Chu Xuan had long since left the burning ruins of the Wu Family Manor behind.

He avoided the mortal towns and villages scattered across the region. Once he was certain he hadn't been tracked, he scaled a remote hill and commandeered a spacious cave.

As for the cave's original owner—a massive, territorial black bear—Chu Xuan had politely invited it to become his dinner.

With a casual wave of his hand, Chu Xuan flared his Spiritual Qi, sweeping the filth and foul stench of the beast out of the cavern.

He hastily arranged some brush to conceal the entrance, then sat cross-legged on the stone floor, eager to audit his newly acquired wealth.

First was his own Storage Bag.

Inside sat the array flags for the Blood Transformation Great Array and over a hundred low-tier Spirit Stones. He had fleeced Chen Ge, Wei Hua, and the rest of their savings in exchange for a mere thirty Blood Beads.

"Before the siege, a Blood Bead only fetched two Spirit Stones. Now the market rate is three," Chu Xuan mused, a cynical smirk playing on his lips.

"Tsk. It seems my dear martial brothers haven't had many opportunities to slaughter mortals or Demon Beasts lately."

He shifted his attention to the real prize: the three Low Grade Storage Bags looted from the Shengang Sect disciples.

Opening a dead man's bag was like opening a blind box. You never knew what kind of treasures a hypocrite might be hiding.

He cracked the seals on the bags one by one. A sharp gleam flashed in his eyes.

The two fifth-layer Qi Condensation disciples were disappointingly poor. They carried a meager three to four hundred Spirit Stones and a few standard-issue Magical Artifacts bestowed by the Shengang Sect. Trash, essentially.

But the seventh-layer disciple? His bag was a goldmine. Two Middle Grade Spirit Stones! Over eight hundred low-tier Spirit Stones!

On top of the currency, there was a complete set of flags for a Spirit Gathering Formation and a Lost Trail Formation—the perfect starter kit for establishing a secure cave dwelling.

Yet, nestled at the very bottom of the bag, Chu Xuan found something entirely unexpected. He withdrew the item, his eyes narrowing.

It was a pitch-black banner, heavy with a cloying, sinister aura. If one listened closely, the fabric itself seemed to vibrate with the mournful wails and agonized shrieks of countless vengeful spirits. It was enough to freeze a mortal's blood.

"A Ten Thousand Soul Banner? Now that is interesting," Chu Xuan murmured, raising an eyebrow.

The Ten Thousand Soul Banner was a High Grade Magical Artifact. Typically, a Qi Condensation cultivator could only dream of wielding Low Grade or Middle Grade Magical Artifacts. High Grade and Top Grade gear were strictly the domain of Foundation Establishment masters.

To find one in the hands of a mere inner disciple of the Shengang Sect was absurd.

Demonic Cultivators forged these banners by capturing Yin Souls or slaughtering rival cultivators to extract their living souls, trapping them within the fabric. Through agonizing refinement, these souls were twisted into Malevolent Ghosts—entities of pure, ferocious terror.

When fully powered and unleashed, a Ten Thousand Soul Banner would vomit forth a tidal wave of shrieking ghosts, devouring everything in its path.

Chu Xuan’s coldly logical mind pieced the puzzle together instantly. That Shengang Sect disciple must have opportunistically killed a Wuji Sect Demonic Cultivator. Instead of handing the tainted loot over to his righteous masters, he had pocketed it.

The reason was obvious. The Ten Thousand Soul Banner was a notoriously devastating weapon. The hypocrite had clearly intended to secretly refine it for his own use.

"The Shengang Sect, a pillar of the five righteous Sects," Chu Xuan sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "So much for being upright and honorable."

Demonic Path treasures offered explosive power and rapid growth. Who wouldn't be tempted? If wanton slaughter didn't risk drawing down a heavenly Penalty, those so-called righteous Sects would have embraced the Demonic Path centuries ago.

Regardless of its previous owner's hypocrisy, this High Grade Magical Artifact was a massive windfall.

For a normal cultivator—righteous or demonic—accumulating enough souls to power the banner required sneaking around, carefully murdering targets to avoid drawing the wrath of stronger masters.

But Chu Xuan was playing by a different set of rules.

The moment he stepped back onto that apocalyptic planet, he would have an endless sea of Zombies. Millions of living souls, ripe for the taking, with absolutely zero consequences.

"Another trump card for my deck," Chu Xuan said, thoroughly satisfied. He closed his eyes, settling into his cultivation stance.

Tucked securely inside his robes, the Blood Mirror pulsed faintly, greedily absorbing the ambient Spiritual Qi of heaven and earth as it slowly recharged for his next jump.

***

Five days later, White Ridge Mountain.

Xu Ming, Chen Ge, Wei Hua, and the remaining survivors huddled in a damp cave, the air thick with anxious tension.

According to their plan, Elder Liu Zhenxiong should have shaken off Sun Shi and the Shengang Sect pursuers three days ago.

Now, two extra days had bled by, and there was still no sign of the Elder.

Terrified of running into righteous patrols, they didn't dare descend the mountain to scout. They had no idea if the Wu Family Manor had been entirely wiped off the map. Every passing hour was a torment of paranoia.

"We need to disguise ourselves and go down to take a look," Xu Ming said, his eyes darting to Chen Ge. "Your disguise skills are the best among us. You go."

Chen Ge’s chest tightened in panic. "Why is it always me? Every time we needed supplies from Taiping Market, I was the one sticking my neck out. If you want to know so badly, you go!"

Xu Ming shot to his feet, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. "Uncle-Master Liu personally appointed me to lead this team! Are you disobeying a direct order, Chen Ge?!"

Cursing Xu Ming's ancestors in his head, Chen Ge reluctantly pulled out his kit and began applying his disguise.

He was only halfway through painting his face when a weary voice echoed from the cave entrance.

"Stand down. I've returned."

Liu Zhenxiong stepped out of the shadows, leaning heavily against the stone wall. Another disciple trailed behind him, looking equally battered.

Xu Ming’s face lit up. "Uncle-Master! You made it!"

Liu Zhenxiong swept his gaze over the small group, giving a grim nod. "The righteous Sects had the Wu Family Manor locked down tight. The fact that all of you managed to escape without losing a single man... you are incredibly lucky."

He gestured to the trembling disciple behind him. "Bai Feng's group tried to break through toward Phoenix Fall Mountain. They were ambushed halfway. Bai Feng is the only survivor, and only because I stumbled upon him."

Bai Feng offered a hollow, bitter smile. "If Uncle-Master hadn't arrived when he did, my head would be on a pike right now. You guys really are blessed by the heavens. Did you not run into any Shengang Sect interceptors at all?"

Xu Ming, Chen Ge, and Wei Hua exchanged uneasy glances before recounting the bizarre scene they had stumbled upon days prior.

"Three Shengang Sect disciples? And one of them was at the seventh layer of Qi Condensation? All dead?" Liu Zhenxiong and Bai Feng stared at them, utterly stunned.

"There were barely any signs of a struggle," Xu Ming muttered, still disturbed by the memory. "I suspect they were slaughtered instantly, without any chance to retaliate. Whoever did it had to be at least at the eighth layer of Qi Condensation."

Chen Ge timidly raised his hand, breaking the heavy silence. "Uncle-Master... is it possible it was Senior Brother Chu? He's always been... unusually strong."