Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

“Wang Ba!”

The name cut through the noise of the crowd.

Even though Wang Ba knew he was a nobody—a transparent figure in the grand scheme of the Sect—his heart instinctively clenched.

Risk assessment: Exposure.

Bai Yu paused, his gaze locking onto Wang Ba. A flicker of surprise passed through the Blood Bone Path cultivator’s eyes.

At the same time, the black-robed Chief Steward, Lu Yuansheng, turned his head slightly. His indifferent gaze swept over Wang Ba like a cold wind.

Under the scrutiny of two high-level cultivators, Wang Ba felt a prickling sensation crawl down his spine, as if needles were being pressed against his skin. He lowered his head, hunched his shoulders, and walked quickly to the front.

Fortunately, few others noticed the brief interaction.

Moments later, Bai Yu stopped calling names.

Wang Ba blinked in surprise. He had assumed everyone would be assigned to specific squads. Instead, only a tiny fraction of the cultivators had been singled out.

“The rest of you, form up and prepare to move out,” Bai Yu commanded, tossing a careless wave to the main group.

He then signaled for the small group of selected individuals to follow him away from the main host.

Wang Ba scanned his new companions. Men, women, the elderly, the young—there was no common thread in their cultivation levels or appearance.

Bai Yu didn’t keep them guessing. He spoke bluntly.

“You are all here because you pulled strings. You used connections to get a ‘safer’ assignment.”

He sneered slightly. “But make no mistake. A war to annihilate a Sect is always perilous. I cannot guarantee your survival. When the fighting starts, stay behind me. If I have the spare capacity, I will ensure you live.”

Wang Ba’s eyes widened slightly as he glanced at the others.

So, this is the nepotism squad?

But he hadn’t asked anyone for favors. Unless…

Yu Changchun.

He recalled their meeting at the teahouse. Yu Changchun had mentioned asking a “Martial Uncle” to look after him. Wang Ba had dismissed it as polite conversation. He hadn’t expected the man to actually follow through.

As he spoke, Bai Yu flicked his wrist. Small, jagged fragments of white bone flew out, landing precisely in the hands of everyone present.

“This is the ‘White Bone Formation’… Infuse your Spiritual Power into the bone shard, and you will naturally link together into a defensive formation. When we charge, this might just give you a slightly better chance of not dying.”

Bai Yu then called out a few specific names from within the small group.

To Wang Ba’s dismay, his name was on this shortlist too.

Bai Yu exchanged a few brief words with the others before stopping in front of Wang Ba.

Before Wang Ba could open his mouth to offer a greeting, Bai Yu chuckled.

“So, you are the Wang Ba who brewed the Black Crystal Peach Spirit Wine? Changchun has mentioned you to me several times.”

Wang Ba let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Confirmed. This is the Martial Uncle.

Memory flashed back to the night the Eastern Sage Sect fell. Wang Ba had been seconds away from escaping through his tunnel when Heavenly Gate disciples intercepted him. The man who had ordered the tunnel collapsed was none other than Bai Yu.

Of course, Wang Ba dared not show a hint of resentment.

Instead, he adopted a look of overwhelming gratitude and flustered humility.

“This… this Junior is terrified by such favor! To think Senior has heard of my lowly name…”

“Hehe, no need for the act,” Bai Yu said, his eyes narrowing with meaning. “However, you aren’t quite what Changchun described. You certainly aren’t at the fourth or fifth layer of Qi Refining.”

Wang Ba’s blood ran cold. The hairs on his arms stood up.

Detected.

Trying to hide his cultivation base from a Foundation Establishment expert face-to-face was a fool’s errand. Even though he had prepared for this possibility, having his disguise stripped away with a single glance sent a shockwave through his system.

Bai Yu seemed to enjoy Wang Ba’s visible tension. He shook his head slightly.

“Relax. The Heavenly Gate Sect has no taboos, but we are not so petty as to covet the Fated Chance of a mere Qi Refining cultivator.”

“Besides,” he added dismissively, “within the Sect, there are plenty who cultivate faster than you.”

Wang Ba forced a relieved smile onto his face, though his internal alarm bells were deafening.

Trust check: Failed. Cultivators are driven by greed. ‘No taboos’ means no moral compass. If the incentive is high enough, he will strike.

However, it seemed Bai Yu truly wasn’t interested in the secrets of a Qi Refining cultivator. He shifted the topic to his real interest.

“Do you have any more of that Black Crystal Peach Spirit Wine?”

Wang Ba paused for a split second, then nodded vigorously. “Yes! I have one small jar left!”

He hurriedly retrieved the final jar from his Storage Bag and offered it up with both hands, bowing low.

“This wine was brewed from the fruit of a spirit tree this Junior planted personally. Since there is only one tree, the yield is low, and thus the wine is scarce.”

Bai Yu’s eyes lit up when he saw the jar.

He nodded, satisfied, but unlike the alcoholic Yu Changchun, he didn’t crack the seal immediately. Instead, he swept it into his own Storage Bag.

“Very good,” Bai Yu said, patting Wang Ba on the shoulder. “If you manage to survive this campaign, I will reward you handsomely!”

Flag raised, Wang Ba thought grimly. That is the classic line spoken to cannon fodder before they die.

Outwardly, his face shone with sycophantic gratitude. “This Junior is eternally grateful!”

Bai Yu moved on, and Wang Ba tactfully retreated to the back of the group.

Moments later, Bai Yu soared into the air, his voice amplified by Spiritual Power, booming over the assembled army.

“Everyone! Follow us to decapitate the enemy Sect, extinguish their line, and pave your path to Immortality!”

“YES!”

The roar of the cultivators shook the ground.

From Bai Yu’s sleeves, a swarm of small, sleek flying boats shot out, expanding in the wind.

The cultivators were ushered on board. Wang Ba and the other “connections” were herded into a specific vessel.

Simultaneously, a powerful presence deep within the Golden Rainbow Garrison made a subtle move. In the blink of an eye, the fleet of boats hovering above the canyon shimmered and vanished from sight.

Inside the boat, Wang Ba was blind.

A heavy light curtain shrouded the vessel, blocking all vision. No matter how he strained his five senses, he couldn’t perceive a single vibration from the outside world.

He wasn’t alone. The others were equally isolated.

One cultivator attempted to extend their spiritual sense beyond the hull, but a sharp, unfamiliar voice barked from the air.

“Do not move recklessly!”

Even the nepotism squad knew better than to disobey. Everyone immediately pulled their senses inward, sitting cross-legged in silence, focusing on their breath.

With battle looming, the atmosphere was heavy. No one spoke.

Wang Ba had no desire to socialize. He spent the time obsessively re-checking the contents of his Storage Bag and Spirit Beast Bag.

Needles. Turtles. Talismans. Explosives.

Time lost its meaning. It could have been an hour or a day when the unfamiliar voice echoed again.

“Disembark!”

The light curtain vanished instantly.

Wang Ba blinked, adjusting to the sudden view.

Night had fallen.

Below them lay a lake as smooth and clear as a mirror, reflecting the cold light of a solitary moon.

In the center of the lake sat an island, dotted with exquisite, petite palaces. Unlike the grand, imposing architecture of the Eastern Sage Sect, these buildings possessed a delicate, refined charm.

Mirror Moon Manor.

Wang Ba’s heart skipped a beat as he noticed the perimeter. The lake was surrounded by a shimmering, translucent Formation. A few night birds, diving for fish, struck the barrier and were instantly vaporized into wisps of green smoke.

On the island itself, female cultivators could be seen flying between the palaces.

Are Lu Yuansheng and Bai Yu planning a frontal assault? Wang Ba thought, his stomach churning. That Formation looks lethal. Are they planning to use us Left Path cultivators as meat shields to drain its energy?

His face turned grim.

“Everyone, down!”

The voice commanded again.

Snapping out of his daze, Wang Ba followed the group, stepping carefully out of the boat and onto the solid ground surrounding the lake.

What surprised him was the lack of reaction. Thousands of cultivators were descending upon the mountains surrounding the lake, yet the Mirror Moon Manor seemed completely oblivious.

They were encircling the prey, and the prey was still sleeping.

High in the air, Chief Steward Lu Yuansheng stood with his hands clasped behind his back, overlooking the island. His face was blurred, but his posture radiated a terrifying, silent mockery.

“Begin,” Lu Yuansheng whispered.

His voice was low, but it carried.

The next instant.

As if responding to a signal, the massive defensive Formation shrouding Mirror Moon Manor began to flicker erratically.

Wang Ba, standing behind Bai Yu, watched in disbelief as the impregnable barrier cracked, groaned, and then shattered into countless fragments of light within mere seconds.

Sabotage.

Shock and confusion rippled through the Left Path army.

But before they could cheer, a terrifying wave of Spiritual Power erupted from the central island.

BOOM!

The pressure swept across the lake, slamming into the surrounding cultivators. Wang Ba’s face went pale, his knees buckling under the sheer weight of the aura.

Golden Core.

A woman’s voice, shrill with grief and rage, tore through the night sky.

“Dong Qiyu! It was you?!”

“For three years I treated you with nothing but kindness! I even planned to hand the Sect Leader position to you once you reached Foundation Establishment! Why?! Why have you betrayed me?!”

Dong Qiyu?!

Wang Ba was stunned.

He had wondered where the mysterious top-ranker was. He certainly hadn’t expected this.

The man infiltrated Mirror Moon Manor and became their inside agent?

No, not just an agent. He seduced his way to the top. He was about to become the Sect Leader of an all-female sect!

That was a dream scenario for countless men, yet Dong Qiyu had sold them out without hesitation.

Suddenly, a second voice rang out from the island—hoarse, ancient, and filled with disappointment.

“Yun Jing! Wake up! You’ve been played!”

An elderly woman, hunched over a dragon-head staff, stepped into the air above the island. Floating behind her was a bound male cultivator.

The old woman walked on empty air, her steps trembling but her aura terrifying. She surveyed the surrounding army with the eyes of a tiger cornered in its den.

“Heavenly Gate Sect?”

Her voice rasped with confusion and dread. “We have no enmity. Why do you invade my Mirror Moon Manor?”

She remembered the Heavenly Gate Sect. Over a hundred years ago, when the Golden Rainbow Sect was wiped out overnight, she had been a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. She had witnessed their horror.

She had wanted to flee then. But where could a sect go? All the spirit veins were occupied. Moving meant decline.

The Heavenly Gate Sect had been dormant for a century. She had hoped they were safe. She had hoped wrong.

Lu Yuansheng stepped out of the shadows, stopping a respectful distance away.

Seeing him, the old woman’s expression darkened.

“Does the Heavenly Gate Sect look down on me so much? You are merely a Foundation Establishment junior. You are not qualified to speak to me! Call your Master!”

Lu Yuansheng didn’t get angry. He spoke calmly, his voice carrying a strange resonance.

“I offer you one chance. Submit. Mirror Moon Manor will be absorbed. Your disciples will become Left Path cultivators of our Sect. As a courtesy, I will petition the Sect Leader to grant you an idle Elder position.”

“Arrogant!”

The old woman roared, her hair flying wild. “My Mirror Moon Manor may be women, but we do not fear death!”

She slammed her staff against the air. A terrifying ripple of Spiritual Power exploded outward, and a streak of red silk shot toward Lu Yuansheng like a striking viper.

“Heh. It always ends this way.”

Lu Yuansheng laughed. He shook his sleeves, and countless fragments of bloody bone flew out, swirling around him to form armor.

Bai Yu, watching from below, raised his hand.

“Left Path cultivators! Form up! CHARGE AND KILL!”

The command dropped like a guillotine.

The Left Path army roared, activating their formations and flooding toward the island.

Wang Ba poured Spiritual Power into his white bone shard, linking into the group defense, but his feet dragged. He consciously positioned himself at the very back of the charge.

Strategy: Survival first. Let the heroes die first.

The situation looked overwhelming for the defenders. The Mirror Moon disciples that emerged were disorganized. They collapsed upon contact, fleeing in panic.

Too easy, Wang Ba thought, his instincts screaming. They are routing too fast.

He slowed down even more, letting the bloodthirsty mob rush ahead.

Then, it happened.

A beam of pure light shot up from the center of the lake-island.

In its wake, several terrifying auras erupted—not just one.

Multiple waves of Spiritual Power, each rivaling the old woman’s strength, surged into the night sky.

Bai Yu, who had been watching with a relaxed sneer, froze.

The color drained from the faces of the charging Left Path cultivators.

Ambush.

Mirror Moon Manor had been waiting for them.