Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

Chapter 180: Failure

Inside the Hundred Questions Tower, Wang Ba sat cross-legged on a prayer mat, his mind momentarily blank. The question posed by the illusory elder had struck a definitive blind spot in his knowledge: the Third Rank.

Thanks to the neglected archives of the Myriad Beast Department and his own relentless scavenging for scrolls, Wang Ba was undeniably a walking encyclopedia of beast lore. His hands-on experience was even more formidable; between his experiments with Spirit Poultry and spirit turtles, and his insights as a Spirit Chef, he understood the biological essence of spirit beasts better than most Golden Core experts.

His expertise was so profound that even a figure as lofty as Tang Ji had treated him as a peer during their discussions. However, his foundation had a ceiling. The records at the Myriad Beast Department were restricted by the cultivation of previous Head Chamber Elders, rarely touching upon anything beyond the Second Rank. Information on Third Rank beasts was a guarded treasure, locked away from the eyes of a mere disciple.

While Wang Ba could read the habits and skeletal structures of lower-rank beasts as easily as the lines on his own palm, he knew next to nothing about creatures like the Wind Heron.

Fundamental principles shouldn’t change with rank, he reasoned. He thought back to the Mountain Moving Ape’s Tribulation Transcendence. During that event, his attempt to strengthen the ape to mitigate the lightning had backfired; the heavens had simply scaled the tribulation’s power to match the beast’s new strength.

“If I can’t outsmart it, I have to weaken it directly,” Wang Ba muttered. He offered an answer based on brute-force suppression, though he knew it felt imprecise.

Predictably, the elder shook his head. A rare flicker of disappointment crossed his eyes. “Incorrect. The Wind Heron’s wings naturally insulate against lightning. One need only collect its shed feathers and graft them back onto its body to disperse the heavenly charge. A pity… that was the simplest query of the second floor.”

Wang Ba remained stoic. He couldn’t be expected to know the traits of a bird he’d never seen.

The water screen shimmered again, displaying a Mountain Moving Ape—one with the regal bearing of the Wu Ape King. The image showed the creature’s desperate struggle to break its racial limits through physical tempering and searching for Spiritual Qi. Despite passing its Minor Heavenly Thunder Tribulation, it remained stuck at Second Rank, Low Grade until the day it died.

The question appeared: How can a Mountain Moving Ape break the racial limit of the Second Rank after completing its initial tribulation?

Wang Ba almost laughed. “I know this one.”

He recited the exact process he had used to evolve the Wu Ape King, merely tweaking the specific details to obscure his secrets. The elder’s gaze shifted, turning peculiar. This lad had failed the easiest question, yet solved one of the three most difficult problems on the second floor without a moment’s hesitation.

The test continued. Question after question followed, and the elder’s astonishment grew. This junior solved problems that would stump a Golden Core master with seasoned proficiency, yet he would then turn around and fail a “giveaway” question regarding the labor complications of a Third Rank Evil Cloud Tiger.

Finally, the elder stopped. He looked at Wang Ba with profound regret.

“In the second floor, I asked 96 questions. You answered 10 incorrectly.”

The phantom sighed, his form beginning to blur. “A failure. What a tragedy.”

The illusion vanished, leaving Wang Ba alone on his mat as the tower doors creaked open. A heavy silence filled the room. Wang Ba felt the sting of disappointment, but he didn’t let it consume him. He had given his all; he simply lacked the library to compete at this level.

The only thing that truly bothered him was the margin. To miss the quota by only four questions felt like a cruel joke. He also felt a pang of guilt toward Tang Ji for wasting the recommendation.

“Phew… well, move on.” He stood up, shook off the lingering frustration, and stepped into the teleportation array.

Outside the palace, the brocade-robed manager of the market’s second level did something unexpected: he nodded to Wang Ba with a look of acknowledgement. Wang Ba, slightly confused, returned the gesture with a polite smile before heading into the bustling crowds.

As he walked away, a figure in pale blue materialized beside the manager. It was Tang Ji, though notably, none of the passing cultivators seemed to notice his presence.

“He only missed a few trivial questions. Truly a shame,” Tang Ji remarked, a trace of regret in his voice. “If those old fossils didn’t cling so tightly to the rules, Senior Brother Qi’s lineage might have gained a new inner disciple within the century.”

The manager gasped. “Grandmaster Uncle, I observed him with the Cave Mystery Eye. His foundation is solid, certainly, but is he worth such high praise? That sword cultivator in the Hundred Refinements Tower has far more Potential.”

Tang Ji chuckled dismissively. “Your Cave Mystery Eye is clearly unpracticed. You saw his foundation, but you missed the fact that he achieved a Heavenly Dao Foundation Establishment.”

The manager froze. “Him? Heavenly Dao? Impossible! Even I…”

“You aren’t one because your lineage doesn’t prioritize it,” Tang Ji waved a hand. “But for Senior Brother Qi, this kid is perfect. A rare Heavenly Dao talent who actually knows how to breed beasts… it’s a crime those old men are so inflexible.”

The manager remained in shock. “How does a Rogue Cultivator even afford enough Spirit Chow for a Heavenly Dao breakthrough?”

“Stop being envious,” Tang Ji teased. “So what if you have one less innate spell or a less-than-Perfection core? Minor details.”

The manager’s face soured. If this weren’t his Grandmaster Uncle, he’d have already lost his temper.

“On to business,” Tang Ji’s voice turned stern. “I put you here in the Yan Country branch to scout talent, not to mope. If I hadn’t been here, that Golden Core rogue would have flattened you. Don’t be so arrogant just because you have the market’s Formations.”

The manager muttered under his breath, but Tang Ji wasn’t finished. “That sword cultivator is a once-in-fifty-years seedling. Do not let your branch ruin him. And keep your temper in check; I’m heading back to report for duty soon. If you provoke a powerhouse while I’m gone, you’ll be on your own.”

With a final, elegant smile, Tang Ji vanished into thin air.

Wang Ba spent two more days at his stall, but the search for a Second Dantian technique remained fruitless. He eventually packed up and scoured the market, buying up exotic spirit seeds, miscellaneous scrolls, and bloodline materials for Alpha-Fifteen and Alpha-Sixteen.

He was 80% sure he could trigger their Bloodline Breakthrough now, but he delayed his departure. Zhao Feng still hadn’t emerged from the Hundred Refinements Tower, and Wang Ba still hoped for that elusive manual.

By the day the market was set to close, Wang Ba finally approached the brocade-robed manager. “Fellow Daoist, do you know when my Senior Brother will finish?”

The manager actually smiled. “Rest easy. He has exceptional talent and even better luck. He caught the eye of a high-ranking member and has been granted a hoard of resources. Once he leaves, he’ll be ready to attempt his Golden Core breakthrough.”

Wang Ba’s eyes widened. Golden Core! He was genuinely thrilled; having a Golden Core ally would be a massive boon. He left a message for Zhao Feng to find him at their usual spot and turned to leave.

“Wait,” the manager called out. He ducked into the palace and returned with a jade slip. “Take this.”

Wang Ba accepted it, looking confused. “What is this?”

“Tang Ji said this is a gift for your performance on the first floor. He also said that once you personally nurture a Golden Core spirit beast, you should return. At that time, he will personally grant you the third-level quota.”

Wang Ba was stunned. He focused his Divine Sense into the slip. His heart skipped a beat, and a look of pure, unadulterated joy broke across his face.

The title burned in his mind: Primordial Dual Polarity Art.

It was the manual for the Second Dantian.