Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

Chapter 174: The Hatred of a Slain Son, Unfit to Exist Under the Same Sky!

Inside the wooden hut of his secluded territory, Wang Ba sat atop his coarse wooden bed, cradling a grotesque creature in his palm. It was an insect with a disturbingly human-like face—the Yin Food Worm mother.

Since being extracted, the mother worm had shed its previous lethargy, its many legs twitching with renewed vigor. However, the moment it caught sight of Wang Ba, the miniature face on its back contorted into an expression of raw vigilance and wariness.

Wang Ba remained unfazed. He tapped a Spirit Light Talisman, and the resulting glow confirmed his suspicions: this was a Top Grade second-grade spirit insect.

He nodded, a thin smile playing on his lips. “This creature managed to shroud the soul fluctuations of True Cultivator Lin even when he was at the late Foundation Establishment stage. It should be more than capable of masking my own Divine Sense.”

Yet, his clinical mind quickly cataloged the risks.

First, according to Zhu Jianyi’s notes, if the mother worm is flooded with energy from its offspring too quickly, it could backlash against its host. Second, as it was Lin Xiwen’s life-bound insect, it should have perished with his body. Its survival suggested it was either tied to his lingering soul or possessed a terrifying level of independence. If he refined it, would he eventually be devoured by his own tool? Third, he wondered if its grade could be elevated alongside his own cultivation. If not, the Heavenly Gate Sect might eventually sniff him out. Fourth, he needed to test if he could store it within his Second Dantian to mitigate the risks of a life-bound bond.

He refused to gamble with his soul until these variables were solved.

Expanding his Divine Sense toward the yard, he checked on a High Grade first-grade spirit turtle parasitized by a larval worm. While the turtle appeared stronger on the surface, Wang Ba’s senses detected an unsettling hollowness beneath its shell.

“The harvest is beginning,” he murmured.

Turning his attention back to the mother worm, he placed a small jar of Spirit Poultry essence before it. The human face on the insect’s back twitched with greed at the scent of the concentrated Spiritual Qi, but it remained frozen, paralyzed by Wang Ba’s presence. Only after he deployed a small array disc to enclose the area and stepped back did the creature pounce. Its mouthparts worked with frantic speed, gorging on the essence.

“Far more vigorous than the larvae,” Wang Ba noted. He decided to let it recover fully before testing his theory by refining it into a different spirit beast’s body.

Next, he turned to the spoils gathered from the late ‘True Cultivator Gao.’ He emptied a spirit beast bag, revealing a single, black-furred pup with a lone horn protruding from its brow.

The puppy immediately bared its teeth, letting out a low, guttural growl. It recognized the scent of its master’s killer.

Canine spirit beasts were famously loyal, often serving as guardian beasts for Sects long after their masters passed. Wang Ba admired the trait but found the barking tedious.

“A Low Grade second-grade beast. It’s a waste to kill you,” he mused, snapping a second-grade spirit collar around its neck before tossing it back into the bag. “I’ll find you a mate later.”

He then sifted through Gao’s Storage Bag. It was a pathetic haul for a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator: 20 or 30 middle-grade Spirit Stones, a mediocre hammer-type Magical Artifact, and a battered defensive treasure. Most of it was “trash” he intended to offload at the Exquisite Ghost Market.

However, a single golden scroll caught his eye.

“Musk Dog? By applying the Musk Horn Incense from its brow, one can track a target across vast distances?” Wang Ba’s interest piqued. Such a utility was priceless for a man who lived in the shadows.

As he tidied the rest of the gear, he found a thumb-sized, pearl-white egg he had pocketed during his escape from the Sword Billow Garrison. It was vibrating. A hairline fracture spider-webbed across the shell.

“Hatching already?”

He carefully fashioned a nest of dry grass. Through the thin shell, he could hear a faint, sharp chirping and see a tiny silhouette struggling within. Sensing its vibrant life force, he left it to finish the labor of birth on its own.

For the next several days, Wang Ba was a whirlwind of activity. To fund his trip to the second floor of the Exquisite Ghost Market, he needed capital. He spent his nights refining Spirit Chow, processing dozens of spirit chickens and turtles.

Despite his efforts, the purity of his essences peaked at 90%.

“My fire control is still too rigid,” he sighed. His fire spiritual root had been diluted during his recent aptitude evolution, leaving his manipulation of flames clumsy. To a Spirit Chef, such a lack of finesse was the difference between a masterpiece and a failure. If he were an alchemist, this flaw would have ended his career before it began.

Between batches, he maintained his daily ritual: refining essence and performing Visualization of the Yin Spirit statue to fuel the illusions keeping Lin Xiwen suppressed.

During one check of the coop, he discovered that the mother hen Lin Xiwen had “favored” had laid eight eggs. Two were fertilized.

“Since Lin is a second-grade creature and the hen is a Top Grade first-grade, these chicks should be second-grade,” Wang Ba calculated, his eyes gleaming with profit. “The ‘Many Children’ strategy is working.”

Lin Xiwen—now the rooster Alpha-Fifteen—watched with mounting horror as the “Demonic Cultivator” approached the nest.

Damn him! Is he going to eat them?!

His fears were realized. Wang Ba snatched six eggs, cracked them over a rising flame, and tossed in some scallion leaves. The aroma of a fresh omelet wafted through the air.

“CLUCK! CLUCK-CLUCK!”

The hatred of a slain son is unfit to exist under the same sky! Lin’s internal scream was primal. I will—

He froze. A wave of nauseating realization washed over him.

Wait. I am a human. A Golden Core True Person! Why am I grieving over chicken eggs?!

The horror was twofold. His physical form was slowly subverting his soul. The “chicken-ness” of his body was overwriting his identity, forcing him to view his avian offspring as true kin.

I must remain human! he roared internally, even as his heart ached with an instinctive, feathered sorrow. He ate my progeny… my Lifespan will never increase now! Damnable demon! I will tear you to shreds!

Outside, all Wang Ba heard was a particularly loud and angry squawk.

Before departing for Canglan City, Wang Ba checked the grass nest. The mysterious bird had finally emerged.

Unlike the fluffy spirit chicks, this creature was pathetic: bald, pink-skinned, and shaking, with only a single tuft of bright yellow down on its back. Its beak, however, was sharply hooked.

“An eagle?” Wang Ba frowned. He tested it with a Spirit Light Talisman.

The paper flashed a brilliant, deep hue.

“High Grade second-grade?!”

He stared at the shivering pink blob. This tiny thing was the same rank as the Ape King Wu.

He tried feeding it a baby mouse, but the bird turned away in disgust. He tried grain; it ignored it. The bird’s cries grew weak. Panicking slightly, Wang Ba ground Spirit Rice into a fine powder, mixed it with a Spirit Poultry egg yolk, and warmed it into a thick slurry.

Using a hollow straw, he offered the mixture. The chick’s head snapped forward like a pneumatic drill, vacuuming the slurry with desperate hunger. Its crop swelled until it was larger than its head. Contented, the tiny beast slumped over and began to snore.

“What a strange little glutton,” Wang Ba chuckled.

He packed the chick, the Musk Dog, and the high-value poultry—including the fuming Alpha-Fifteen—into his spirit beast bags. Stepping onto his flying artifact, he streaked toward the horizon. The Exquisite Ghost Market awaited.

(End of Chapter)