Chapter 13: Buffet for the Ghost Cultivator

It was a regular summer day in the Heaven Wind city. The cherry blossoms of spring had waned and the strong morning lights permeated nooks and crannies of this bustling city. Whether mortals or cultivators, they had their respective lives to lead.

In a dark corner, untouched by the sunlight was a derelict Inn. A pale-skinned young man hid within the underground cellar. His Daoist Robes were tattered and there were a lot of scars in his body. Yet, aside from his sickly-looking skin, his condition couldn't be described other than healthy.

In his room were set a Concealment Formation and various barriers. This was a high-level formation left by his master, the Ghost King, in case he wished to hide from the senior-generation experts during his travel. The barriers, however, were something he earned from doing services in the Ghost Realm.

The young man felt an incredible amount of thirst. The fight between him and the disciples of the Righteous Sword Sect had taken its toll. Although he had higher cultivation base, he was unable to lose the pursuit of that several younger-generation and have to use his skills in order to massacre them and at the same time, erase any traces of him.

The reason was due to the artifacts they possess having such troublesome detection abilities—if they're simply run-in-the-mill Rogue Cultivators, he could easily hide with various techniques. So far, only his Master's stationary formation would guarantee his safety, but it was of no use if his hiding location were already sniffed out in advance.

While his cultivation was lower, his Ghost Qi wasn't apparent at all, which was why he was able to enjoy a mostly carefree cultivation and that was unique even for Ghost Cultivators.

Ending up with this hidden, derelict place was a good fortune by itself. Heaven Wind city was also of Neutral stance. Even the Righteous Sects could not do as they please without giving any face to the experts residing here.

It's not like he had pissed an arrogant young master somewhere; no—his conduct could be seen rather low-key, even against those much weaker than him.

It was simply because his path of Ghost Cultivation was a Taboo for the Righteous Sects, which seem to have myriads of ways to locate everyone out there who followed the same path: whether it was Soul Oracles, Demonic Tunists, Ghost Cultivators and even the notorious Slavery and Slaughter Cultivators weren't even out from their grasp.

Even the Evil Sects didn't even care against a small fry like him. The young man wasn't necessarily evil. He would kill those who'd get in his way, left no traces and live in hiding, but in general, he did not interfere much in the path of others' cultivation.

That was, none other due to the hidden heritage left from his unknown parents: an ability to enter the Ghost Realm while still retaining flesh and blood. Which was long extinct for those of the Mortal World.

Naturally, the young man possessed an extremely strong soul to exist and endure the tumultuous currents of the realm. His master, Ghost King, was also an inhabitant of this realm—the one who came across the young man while his soul accidentally drifted into the Ghost Realm during his younger days.

It was the same soul technique from his master, which ultimately led to the deaths of his pursuers. The technique he learned from the Ghost King, Soul Rend. Amplifying the pressure of his soul by many folds, it would make the Sword Cultivators suffer permanent soul damage as they mainly trained in the physical body, Qi cultivation and sword skills—no defense against soul attacks as such battle technique were extremely rare in the mortal world.

The young man finished them off by piercing their vital points with a precisely placed Ghost Qi. From the start of their fight, the pursuers only suffered minor injuries on their physical bodies as the young man only retaliated with martial arts, which he didn't especially excel at.

As their tattered Nascent Soul drifted away from their body the moment they're killed, the young man used a Soul Confinement technique and devoured their souls. Even in their injured state, the young man wasn't confident he'd be able to devour them one by one without it.

Due to the Soul Rend technique's damage not affecting the amount of soul energy present, it was a good one to follow up with Soul Devouring.

What was extremely frightening about Ghost Cultivators was their ability to completely erase any traces of their kills and making the best use of any remnants left. As such, it would be almost impossible to trace back; unless one excelled in Divinity and in this mortal world, Divinity was but a lost art.

In the young man's case, he could use the soul power of his enemies to advance his cultivation before returning them directly to the Yellow River of Reincarnation, bypassing all the detection from the senior generation. Plus, they would also be forced to drink the Forgetfulness Tea by Old Lady Meng, causing them to lose all memories of past life. Unless the bonds of Karma fated them to meet again, they would not mingle with the young man's life any longer.

He could also enslave the ghosts, rather than draining them whole but there was always a risk of breaking away and he didn't like the idea of restricting one's own freedom, as the ghost couldn't enter the reincarnation cycle as long they're still in his captive.

Though most of the reason was, enslaving ghosts would need more nourishment, which was exclusive to the Ghost Realm and the young man's thirst was due to the exhaustion of his Ghost Qi. With the mortal world not having a suitable Qi, he could only rely on his natural regeneration rate without being able to absorb anything, as such, it was also useless to cultivate in the Mortal World.

Even while cultivating in the Ghost Realm, he still needs to go back to his own body every now and then to check the perimeters, even with the formations that could alarm him in advance and give him a good time buffer to return back. He longed for a secure place for a closed-door cultivation so his soul could train prolongedly in the realm.

Except for the Physical Body cultivation. He could use the corpse of his enemies as a cultivation cauldron and use the final product to reinforce his body, as the process would continue in his undetectable storage ring from the Ghost Realm, he was content once more. There were also body tempering techniques that he could only get at the mortal world since the people in the Ghost Realm technically didn't have any physical body.

While the Ghost Realm had their own ways to manifest their soul forms like a physical body, it was for when they reached high enough cultivation and they young man was still far away with it. Even when he reached such level, he did not intend to abandon his physical body either.

Seeing as there's no flaw in the formation and the barriers were at its pinnacle of sturdiness--he also remembered; long before he had arrived in this city, he had repressed his Qi so he's no different than a mortal and put on additional concealment artifacts—the young man drifted directly into the Ghost Realm.

It was something completely cut off from the realm of mortals, with the portal etched deep within the young man's soul, that even the Ghost Realm's Patriarch, who's in the Dao Realm state, could barely detect.

The young man was completely safe inside it, the formation was just to prevent ambushes for when he was finally out. Although he could ask his master and the elders about the outside situations, they had a policy not to meddle in the affairs of the outside world in general, especially if it's between the younger generation. They were also in consensus for not spoiling the young pups as not to breed a generation of silk pants and arrogant young masters.

Not to say anything about the Realm itself. The cultivators could all come and go, enjoying one of the safest havens and their biggest vulnerability were always the outside world and the fellow Ghost Cultivators inside. There were always the threat of traitors but the Patriarch and their elders could even peer the depths of one's soul and nip the bud before it sows.

Maybe some of them were like the young man, but with the nodes that couldn't even be detected and came with suspicious motives. If that's the case, whatever's behind them definitely had a powerful background, but the Patriarch was not a pushover either. He'd treat them with respect, but would ALWAYS have the final say, as soon as the said person stepped into his own realm.

The biggest concern was, what if the Patriarch himself were the ones who got corrupt?

The elders reminded themselves, the old coot did not even have any bit of interest in the outside world even for tens of thousands of years—yet they still kept their guard. The Patriarch himself, knowing those young pup's vigilance, sighed in relief.

Yet it did not mean the Ghost Cultivators could not do some hunting or in other words 'exchanging pointers between junior/senior generations'. Even the Patriarch himself had challengers every now and then, but recently those upstart fogeys had tasted so much just desserts it made the Patriarch bored as hell.

In the young man's case, however, the Patriarch made a minor adjustment to the teleportation node so the youngster would go straight to his master, Ghost King's abode rather than the tumultuous sea of stormy clouds in the outer rim, just like when he first arrived.

The Patriarch's motives were about the same, but he wasn't that wary of this kid, so he mostly left the supervision to the Ghost King. It was not a coincidence that Ghost King found this young man right after he wandered about, the Patriarch foresaw it in advance whenever someone unknown came to his realm.

...and the young man was the first to come from the Mortal World.

As for why it's the Ghost King—the Patriarch was known to be enigmatic when it came to choosing people to do certain tasks. He could read and sense the depths of people's souls better than anyone else in the realm, yet he kept silent 'bout it.

He just said to Ghost King:

'Nurture him well, because he's not like the others, he's destined to be lonesome. The whole world might not even appreciate his efforts and even determined to wipe him from the history of cultivation, but knew this—I was once the same.

It was because of the master who picked me up while I'm a nobody and alone, I could reach such heights. I had done the same with you and now, it's your turn.'

Arriving at the Ghost King's abode, the young man saw his master silently cultivating. Just like his current form and all the other inhabitants of the Ghost Realm, his body was translucent as it was the manifestation of Soul.

Upon reaching a high-enough cultivation, Ghost Cultivators could completely abandon their physical body, unlike Soul Oracles, whose soul condition also depended on the physical body they possess.

The soul state of the Ghost King's cultivation level was so profound, it functions as well as an actual fleshy body.

Noticing his direct disciple's arrival, Ghost King smiled; with his eyes still closed and his back against the young man. With a small fling of his long sleeves, a jade bottle manifested from myriads of transient lights. It was filled with a brightly shining liquid constantly shifting in color; various small fiery souls could be seen drifting inside.

"Essence liquor enriched with Qi of Ghost Realm. Drink it."

Ghost King's tone was cold without emotions, yet the young man could feel the warmth and care, knowing his master for so many years. He never knew his parents, so his master was the closest thing to a parental figure.

As the young man's cultivation wasn't high enough, he couldn't lay relaxedly on the ground—only able to float around. He still couldn't be accustomed to losing the sense of touch and gravity while roaming the realm. He stared at his master who's enjoying the bristling breeze, from the balcony-like hall; drinking straight from an Ancient-looking alcohol flagon and munching on some exotic looking treats: Ghost Ginseng Root, Black-Thunder Candy Pill, Underworld Roasted Mandrake etc. while he was at it.

As far eyes could see were grey-black clouds and neverending thunderstorms.

Yet, the sound of thunder rang at a specific rhythm like a lullaby, calming the young man. The same with all the other Ghost Cultivators, represented by the various colored lights gently floating in the distance; going back and fro between every building present.

The young man still did not know, as even the underneath was obscured by clouds and the thunders were also seen below. This realm had no concept of the earth to place their buildings. Each of them floated freely within the clouds.

As with the cultivators, whom able to freely fly in the sky, no matter how low their cultivation was.

Basking in the scenery the young man had grown quite familiar about, he uncorked the jade bottle and downed a good amount of the liquid. Such delicacies were the only ones he could taste, along with the 'spirit foods' the Mess Hall provided.

Yet, the spirits his master brew were the best of them all. As soon as the liquor permeated his entire soul form, he could briefly felt the sensation of his soul becoming more corporeal. The explosion of sweet fruits, the bitter taste of alcohol, the comfortable heat seeping from his throat, throughout his 'body'. He felt the wind; the air; the ground and the sensation of Ghost Qi caressing his entire being were at its most intense.

It was strong enough, it managed to knock out the young man in one go.

The last thing he realizes were his master's mocking laughter as he lost consciousness.

He knew he still had a long way to go and no matter how strong he was; there's no absolute safety in the cultivation world, but that does not mean, in his pursuit, he should keep a one-track mind and lose focus on who he was.

His master had taught him a valuable thing few times before, judging from his playful actions despite his calm, composed demeanor.

Never forget to enjoy life; we cultivators had an extremely long life. To enjoy it fully in boredom and just blindly cultivating—it was never worth it.

Knowing his master, the training would be harsh, but he knew, at the end of the day, there'd always be something to celebrate the efforts done.

With this in mind, the young man passed out with a smile.

...only to be violently 'smacked' awake by the next day.