The Oldest Disciple: Farming Intimacy to Become Immortal

Chapter 233: Be Careful Behind You!

The collision of emerald and golden spiritual lights triggered a localized spiritual tide. Waves of volatile energy swept through the illusionary mist, distorting the space like a heat haze.

“If Fellow Daoist intends to use a formation to deplete my Mana, then you are underestimating me!” the Supervisor roared, his voice amplified by desperation.

Although his mouth spoke words of defiance, his heart told a different story.

His Mana was being drained at a terrifying rate by the Wind Controlling Banner. If this stalemate continued, he would eventually run dry. And once a cultivator’s Mana was exhausted, no matter how high their realm, they were nothing more than meat on a chopping block.

Where exactly is the Formation Core?

Every formation must have a core—an anchor for its power. For a grand array capable of manifesting its own small world, there should be multiple stable nodes.

“How can this be?”

A drop of cold sweat trickled down the Supervisor’s forehead.

He considered himself an expert in the Dao of Formations. Yet, staring into the shifting mist, he couldn’t pinpoint a single static location. The nodes where spiritual power flowed were clearly the cores, but… they were moving.

Is this even possible?

It should be impossible. Once a Formation Core is placed, the ley lines and structure are set in stone. Forcibly moving a core while the array was active should cause the entire structure to collapse instantly.

“What exactly is going on?”

The events of tonight were simply too bizarre. Attacked at his own doorstep by an unknown enemy, trapped in a physics-defying illusion… he didn’t even know if what he was fighting was real.

Perhaps everything he saw was false. Perhaps, in the eyes of the mastermind, he looked like a clown flailing at shadows, burning his own Mana for nothing.

But he dared not gamble. The aura emanating from the golden Dharma Array in the sky was too terrifyingly authentic.

“It seems Golden Core cultivators are nothing special after all,” Li Meng mused from the shadows.

Every twitch, every drop of sweat on the Supervisor’s face was visible to him.

Aside from their ability to manipulate the ambient power of Heaven and Earth to amplify spells, Golden Core cultivators didn’t seem fundamentally different from Foundation Establishment cultivators in terms of combat mechanics. Although there was a chasm-like gap in the quantity and density of Mana, the methods were the same: rely on artifacts, supplement with spells.

Even a Lifebound Dharma Treasure, while powerful, wasn’t enough to make Li Meng feel despair.

“Or could it be… that I am just too strong?”

Li Meng looked up at the golden lattice in the sky.

It hung there like a divine painting. This was the Grand Geng Qianyuan Sword Array, constructed from over two hundred Second-Grade Divine Firmament Talismans.

Each talisman contained Mana equivalent to three of Li Meng’s own reserves. In other words, this array possessed a total Mana pool equivalent to six hundred Li Mengs.

Of course, having power and controlling it were two different things. If his Soul Strength were higher, a mere Golden Core cultivator would be crushed like an ant instantly. Currently, he could only actively manipulate about twenty talismans at once to unleash maximum lethality.

The rest served as batteries. One-third of the talismans were dedicated solely to maintaining the structural integrity and Mana flow, creating a self-sustaining loop that spared Li Meng from draining his own soul.

Li Meng lowered his head to look at the Five Elements Ring on his wrist.

As if sensing his gaze, the ring came to life. It shifted, transforming into a small, metallic snake that slithered around his wrist. It looked both miraculous and eerie.

“Master, is there anything I can do?”

The Divine Sense transmission of the Flood Dragon Soul echoed in his mind.

“What was your cultivation level in your previous life?” Li Meng asked.

“I do not know. I have forgotten. This concubine only remembers fragments from after death.”

A thoughtful expression appeared on Li Meng’s face.

Based solely on the strength of its spirit essence, the Flood Dragon Soul must have been a Great Demon capable of human transformation in its past life. But it was clearly damaged, existing in a weakened state. This implied its original peak was likely far higher—perhaps even a Demon Venerable, comparable to a human Soul Formation cultivator.

“What is your name?”

“Please, Master, bestow a name!”

“You are of the Flood Dragon kind and exist now as a spirit. I shall call you Dragon Spirit.”

“Yes, Master!”

“Go. Lurk in the mist. If he tries to escape, join forces with me to kill him.”

Li Meng flicked his sleeve.

The Five Elements Ring whirled and shot out, transforming into a black streak of light that vanished silently into the depths of the fog.

With Dragon Spirit as its artifact spirit, the ring now had the potential to evolve. With the right materials and reforging, it could advance from a Dharma Treasure to a Spiritual Treasure—a weapon capable of influencing the fate of entire sects.

State of Zhao, Imperial Palace

Tonight, the Imperial Palace was noisy—specifically, the rear harem.

As night fell, the Jinxiu Palace was unexpectedly decorated with lanterns and colored banners. Red light cast a crimson glow over the magnificent architecture, signaling a celebration.

The noise came from the surrounding palaces, where concubines, maids, and eunuchs gathered to gossip.

“Who is entering the palace this time? What a grand display.”

“Indeed. I didn’t receive any news about a new concubine.”

“That’s strange. The Emperor usually makes a fuss.”

In stark contrast to the surrounding buzz, the Jinxiu Palace itself was dead silent.

Though brightly lit and adorned for a wedding, it was empty. Not a single person walked the resplendent corridors. No maids, no eunuchs, no guards.

Only one set of footsteps echoed in the silence.

Pat, pat, pat.

A small figure skipped along the corridor.

“Is anyone there?”

A childish voice called out, carrying far into the empty halls.

“No one’s here!”

Qi Wei pouted slightly, continuing her skip.

“Halt! Who are you?”

Suddenly, a black figure burst from a second-story window, flying across the courtyard to land heavily in her path.

The man was dressed in black brocade robes—a Covert Guard of the Emperor. He blocked Qi Wei’s path, his aura sharp and dangerous.

Qi Wei glanced at him.

Not a mortal martial artist? A cultivator?

Her eyes lit up.

She extended her little pinky finger and pointed behind him.

“Be careful behind you!”

The Covert Guard sneered.

This was the Imperial Palace. Jinxiu Palace had been sealed by His Majesty personally. No one except the Covert Guards could enter. This little girl looked like a Daoist acolyte—clearly a cultivator from the mountains.

A mountain-dweller in the palace? There must be a conspiracy.

Her words were obviously a distraction. He wouldn’t fall for such a childish trick.

Swish!

Right at that moment, a black streak of light flashed silently in the air behind him.

It was a sword. A pitch-black sword.

Like a shadow detached from the night, it accelerated instantly.

Pfft.

It pierced through the back of the Covert Guard’s skull, exiting through his forehead before he even registered the threat.

As his body crumbled, a terrified, translucent figure—his Primordial Spirit—was dragged out by the blade.

The Black Sword pulsed greedily. In an instant, it devoured the soul whole, leaving nothing behind.