Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

Chapter 199: Meteorite Flame Red Gold Iron

“Zheng Yuanhua’s Storage Ring?!”

Wang Ba’s heart gave a violent thump. He instantly swept the ring into his own storage space.

With the immediate threat gone, he rushed to check on the Earth Ape King. To his immense relief, while the flesh on the ape’s right arm had been brutally flayed to the bone by the spatial shear, the beast’s life force was stable.

However, the Earth Ape King looked profoundly, unnaturally exhausted. It lay slumped on the ground, entirely unable to open its eyes, its chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths.

Is this the backlash from transforming into that giant ape? Wang Ba deduced instantly.

A sudden, catastrophic surge in combat power always demanded a blood price. It was likely the transformation had entirely drained the ape’s spiritual reserves and physical stamina.

Yet, Wang Ba was genuinely bewildered by the transformation itself.

The Earth Ape King had never displayed even a hint of such an ability, nor had Wang Ba ever read a single text suggesting that Mountain Moving Apes could undergo a Kaiju-like metamorphosis.

Was that a technique? I’ve never heard of a beast technique like that… He quickly sifted through his mental library of the Myriad Beast Department’s records, but came up empty.

Deciding to shelve the mystery for later, Wang Ba quickly applied high-grade healing salves to the ape’s skeletal arm, gently fed it a few restorative spirit fruits, and carefully recalled it into his spirit beast bag.

Without the Earth Ape King’s suicidal bravery, Wang Ba knew he would be a corpse right now.

He then turned his full attention to the Black Feather Chicken, Bing Yi.

Bing Yi’s physical transformation was startling. Originally, its plumage had been an iridescent, oil-slick black. But after swallowing the third-grade Yin Ghost, the heavy black pigmentation had faded, shifting toward a vibrant, multicolored sheen. It now bore a faint, undeniable resemblance to its maternal ancestor, the Phoenix Feather Chicken.

(Though, naturally, it was still far too fat and awkward to be considered majestic.)

But what truly commanded Wang Ba’s attention was the suffocating aura rolling off the bird.

Bing Yi had cleanly broken into the second-grade Top Grade!

Wang Ba didn’t need to be a genius to know this miraculous evolution was the direct result of digesting a supreme third-grade evil spirit.

But… why is Bing Yi still breathing? Wang Ba frowned, gently prodding the bird’s plump belly.

The roaring furnace of vitality within the chicken both thrilled and deeply confused him.

He didn’t want the bird dead, but facts were facts. He had used a second-grade Low Grade Soul Seed and forcibly planted it into Bing Yi using the profane Withered Soul Seeding Method. According to the forbidden text, planting the seed would temporarily boost the subject to the second-grade Middle Grade. But the absolute, unavoidable cost was that the host’s life force would be rapidly burned away, resulting in imminent death.

The exact lifespan remaining depended on the quality and quantity of the Soul Seeds. Based on Wang Ba’s calculations, Bing Yi should have had, at most, the time of an incense stick left to live.

The battle with Zheng Yuanhua hadn’t lasted that long, but logically, Bing Yi’s vitality should be rapidly crashing by now.

Instead, the bird was practically vibrating with hyper-vitality. Looking at it now, Wang Ba suspected the rooster could easily outlive him by two or three centuries.

How strange… Did devouring the third-grade Yin Ghost trigger a true, biological evolution that overwrote the curse? Or does pure Yin ghost-flesh natively neutralize the fatal flaw of the Withered Soul Seeding Method? I need to document this immediately. This requires extensive research. Wang Ba quickly gathered his thoughts, returning Bing Yi to the spirit beast bag. Standing amidst the rubble, he rapidly replayed the battle in his mind.

Frankly, it had been a nightmare.

Thinking back on the razor-thin margins of survival made his knees feel weak with a delayed, hollow terror.

From start to finish, he had sacrificed three Substitute Death spirit turtles! When Zheng Yuanhua had opened with that third-grade Yin Ghost, Wang Ba had been caught completely flat-footed.

Even when he had finally retaliated against Zheng Yuanhua, he had realized a terrifying truth: he had absolutely zero means to defend against targeted soul attacks.

Qi Refining cultivators rarely possessed soul-attack methods, and defensive measures were even rarer. He was limited to standard Magical Artifacts and Talismans. Against an ordinary Incense Burner Path zealot, those might hold. But against a Perfection-stage monster like Zheng Yuanhua? They were wet paper.

If Shen Fu hadn’t miraculously disabled the third-grade crescent blade from the start, and if the Black Feather Chicken hadn’t been an incomprehensible, cosmic hard-counter to the Yin Ghost, Zheng Yuanhua would have slaughtered him without breaking a sweat.

Wang Ba knew that even if there were ten of him, it wouldn’t be enough to match Zheng Yuanhua in a fair fight. The gap in sheer cultivation realms was an abyss.

But precisely because the gap was so vast, the moment Wang Ba realized Zheng Yuanhua’s foundation had imploded from the death of his ghost, he had instantly dropped his “dead” act. He had intended to bury the man right then and there.

(He had originally played dead simply because his Qi had bottomed out, leaving him utterly defenseless.)

Allowing a monster of that caliber to escape back to the mountains was an invitation for a future massacre. Better to strike the killing blow now than wait for Zheng Yuanhua to fully recover, analyze Wang Ba’s tricks, and hunt him down properly.

Unfortunately, Zheng Yuanhua’s pockets were entirely too deep. The man had possessed a spatial escape Talisman, and Wang Ba had been one step too slow.

Still… I didn’t walk away empty-handed. Wang Ba’s thoughts drifted back to the severed arm and the Storage Ring resting in his inventory. A spark of genuine anticipation ignited in his chest.

Suddenly, his Divine Sense prickled. He snapped his gaze toward the lake.

The fisherman and Shen Fu were rapidly approaching over the water.

Noticing the cold vigilance in Wang Ba’s eyes, the fisherman wisely slowed his pace, coming to a halt at a respectful, explicitly non-threatening distance.

Shen Fu, however, whose face was as pale as a corpse, ignored protocol. He accelerated, rushing directly to Wang Ba’s side, his voice trembling with a chaotic mix of relief and awe.

“Senior Brother! Are you… how are you?!”

When Wang Ba had plummeted from the sky, Shen Fu had genuinely believed him dead. That despair had driven him to burn a massive sum of his own essence blood to activate the second-grade Top Grade short sword in a suicidal attack. Sadly, Zheng Yuanhua had swatted it away like a fly.

Though Wang Ba had been playing dead, his Divine Sense had captured everything. He fully understood the raw, desperate loyalty behind Shen Fu’s actions. He smiled warmly, clapping the youth on the shoulder.

“I’m fine. Never better!”

It was the honest truth. He looked like he had been dragged through a hurricane, but because Zheng Yuanhua had focused entirely on the Earth Ape King and the chicken, Wang Ba had merely stood in the back, chaining techniques and playing commander. Aside from several near-heart attacks, he was physically unscathed.

Wang Ba then shifted his gaze to the fisherman. He silently initiated a voice transmission, demanding Shen Fu spill everything he knew about the man’s background.

Shen Fu immediately relayed the fisherman’s entire history and backing without hesitation.

Noticing Wang Ba’s attention, the fisherman offered a warm, accommodating smile. He cupped his hands in a formal, deeply respectful salute.

“Fellow Daoist, your strength is truly heaven-defying. To force a monster like Zheng Yuanhua into such a miserable retreat… it commands absolute admiration. We of Qianyu Lake have suffered beneath the heel of the Incense Burner Path for far too long, but due to their overwhelming power, we dared not retaliate. Today, Fellow Daoist has carved out a bloody vengeance on our behalf!”

His tone was entirely devoid of the detached, aloof superiority he had displayed earlier.

Hearing the flattery, Wang Ba quickly pasted on a polite, self-deprecating smile, though he felt a twinge of guilt. Honestly, even Wang Ba felt Zheng Yuanhua had lost due to sheer, absurdly bad luck.

“Fellow Daoist Wu praises me too highly,” Wang Ba replied smoothly. “If not for your formidable presence deterring the Zheng thief from the sidelines, rendering him paranoid and divided, defeating him would have required a much heavier price.”

The two men exchanged another round of practiced, hollow flattery.

Finally, Wu Buping’s patience wore thin. He cleared his throat. “Fellow Daoist, I am a simple man, so I shall speak plainly. Since you have vanquished Zheng Yuanhua, that third-grade Magical Artifact of his rightfully belongs to you… I am curious as to how Fellow Daoist intends to handle it?”

Ah. The third-grade Magical Artifact. Wang Ba’s eyes flashed with understanding. It was blatantly obvious now; the only reason this Perfection-stage powerhouse was standing here wasting breath on pleasantries was for the crescent blade.

The fisherman hadn’t simply murdered Wang Ba and taken it for two reasons: First, Shen Fu’s presence complicated things. Second, and far more importantly, Wang Ba was wearing the robes of the Heavenly Gate Sect. Even though Wu Buping had a Golden Core True Person backing him, attacking a core disciple of a major sect was a surefire way to invite annihilation.

Realizing this, a profound sense of irony washed over Wang Ba.

He spent every waking hour trying to survive the meat-grinder that was the Heavenly Gate Sect, yet out here in the wild, the sect’s dreaded reputation was the very shield keeping him alive.

Misfortune and fortune truly lean upon one another… Wang Ba mused, gaining a faint whisper of Daoist insight.

He quickly exchanged a silent look with Shen Fu. After a brief pause, Wang Ba spoke words that made Wu Buping’s heart leap.

“I understand Fellow Daoist’s meaning perfectly. The third-grade Magical Artifact… I am willing to part with it. However…”

The fisherman’s eyes lit up. “Fellow Daoist, please! State your conditions. I will move heaven and earth to fulfill them!”

To a cultivator at the absolute peak of Foundation Establishment, a third-grade Magical Artifact wasn’t just a weapon; it could serve as a core life-bound item, drastically increasing the odds of successfully forming a Golden Core. But for Rogue Cultivators, while second-grade gear could be bought or stolen, third-grade artifacts were strictly a matter of heaven-defying Fated Chance. Even his Golden Core backer didn’t have spares to hand out.

“My conditions are quite simple,” Wang Ba said, raising two fingers.

“First. You will personally escort my Junior Brother and me back to the Heavenly Gate Sect’s forward station. Don’t worry—you only need to accompany us until we are safely out of the territory controlled by the Incense Burner Path.”

The fisherman frowned, his mind calculating the risks. After a moment, he nodded. “Acceptable. With Zheng Yuanhua crippled, Li Canghai will likely pull his forces back and turtle up. The route should be relatively clear. And your second condition?”

“The second condition…” Wang Ba’s eyes locked onto the fisherman’s. “I have heard that Fellow Daoist possesses a piece of ‘Meteorite Flame Red Gold Iron.’ I wonder if you would be willing to part with it?”

“Meteorite Flame Red Gold Iron?!”

The fisherman was stunned. He immediately whipped his head around to glare at Shen Fu.

Shen Fu stood there, his face pale but his expression entirely unapologetic.

Understanding instantly, the fisherman let out a wry, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “It seems Brother Shen has sold me out completely.”

He sighed. “Very well. Although the ‘Meteorite Flame Red Gold Iron’ is a priceless third-grade spirit material, trading it for a complete third-grade Magical Artifact still leaves me taking advantage of you.”

Without further delay, the two men swore binding Inner Demon oaths. They agreed that the transaction would only be finalized once both conditions were fully met.

“However, Fellow Daoist will likely have to wait for me here for a short while,” the fisherman suddenly added, a helpless look crossing his face.

Wang Ba looked confused for a second, but then he glanced toward Qianyu Lake.

The severed half of the mountain had displaced billions of gallons of water. The lake was currently a violently churning disaster zone, with massive tidal waves crashing over the embankments and flooding the surrounding lands.

“Ah,” Wang Ba nodded in understanding.

After agreeing on a rendezvous time, the fisherman flew back over the lake, utilizing his Perfection-stage Qi to forcibly calm the raging waters and prevent a regional flood.

Wang Ba and Shen Fu retreated to a hidden cave in a nearby mountain to rest.

Although Qianyu Lake was a massive hub for Rogue Cultivators, Wang Ba rigidly adhered to the principle of never standing beneath a crumbling wall. He absolutely refused to step foot inside the lake’s territory, even with Shen Fu acting as a local guide.

His willingness to trade the third-grade artifact to Wu Buping wasn’t just because Incense Burner Path weapons were incompatible with his arts. His Divine Sense had picked up the faint, greedy hostile gazes of hidden cultivators watching the battle from the lake’s depths.

If he had bluntly refused Wu Buping, the fisherman might not have attacked, but he certainly would have turned a blind eye when the lake’s Rogue Cultivators decided to swarm Wang Ba for the loot.

The choice was obvious: A useless artifact that painted a massive target on his back, versus a heavily armed escort and the exact Metal/Fire dual-element third-grade spirit material he desperately needed for his arrays.

As for demanding Wu Buping escort them all the way back to sect territory? That was pure paranoia to ensure the fisherman didn’t immediately turn around and murder them the second the artifact changed hands.

Shen Fu had been the one to suggest it.

There were good people among Rogue Cultivators. But any man who lived long enough to reach the Perfection stage had mastered the art of being a saint one second and a butcher the next. Kindness and gratitude evaporated instantly when true, heaven-defying profit was placed on the table.

Never test a man’s morality with supreme temptation. That was the foundational rule of survival in the cultivation world.

Wang Ba deeply respected Shen Fu’s cynical wisdom.

“It seems you have truly walked a brutal path these past years,” Wang Ba sighed, looking at his Junior Brother.

“Haha. My paranoia is strictly reserved for outsiders. It does not apply to Senior Brother,” Shen Fu smiled warmly.

Wang Ba nodded slowly. Some men would slaughter their own blood for a spirit stone; others viewed supreme treasures as mere dirt. Different Dao, different hearts.

Pushing the philosophy aside, Wang Ba retrieved the severed arm from his inventory. He pulled the bloody Storage Ring off the dead finger and tossed it to Shen Fu.

“Do you know anyone who can crack this?” Wang Ba asked, not holding out much hope.

He had already tried forcing his Divine Sense into the ring, but was violently repelled. Because Zheng Yuanhua was still alive, the ring’s psychic lock was tied to a Perfection-stage soul. Wang Ba couldn’t even scratch it. Still, the thought of throwing away a Perfection-stage leader’s entire life savings made his soul hurt. He hoped Shen Fu’s years in the underworld might have connected him with a specialized thief.

To his absolute surprise, Shen Fu caught the ring, barely glanced at it, and smiled easily.

“Leave it to me.”