Rebirth as a Demonic Cultivator: Starting with a Zombie Planet

Chapter 29: Refining High-Grade Magical Artifacts, Strength Greatly Increased!

Chu Xuan returned to his previous cave hideout. He hauled a massive boulder over to seal the entrance, layered several Formations over the perimeter, and finally cracked open Ouyang Hao’s Storage Bag.

A quick sweep of its contents nearly blinded him.

Truly worthy of a Shenggang Sect genius. Truly worthy of the Grand Elder’s favored disciple.

The sheer wealth inside was staggering. The first thing that caught his eye was a small mountain of small Spirit Stones—at least a thousand pieces by a rough estimate. Nestled beside them lay over twenty medium Spirit Stones.

Beyond the currency, several jade boxes housed ancient texts. They were all Shenggang Sect cultivation techniques and spells, but strictly tailored for sword cultivators. Chu Xuan flipped through them with mild disinterest and tossed them aside.

More importantly, there were two Magical Artifacts.

The first was Ouyang Hao’s signature weapon: the Heavenly Dipper Flying Sword, a High Grade flying Magical Artifact. It boasted a cruising speed of a thousand li an hour, expending a single small Spirit Stone for every three thousand li. It even had an overdrive function, burning extra stones for short bursts of extreme speed.

In stark contrast, Chu Xuan’s current flying Magical Artifact maxed out at three hundred li an hour, drained a stone every thousand li, and had zero acceleration capabilities. The Heavenly Dipper Flying Sword outclassed it in every conceivable metric.

The second item was a golden wooden shield. Despite its material, it felt as dense and unyielding as steel. Forged from Vajra Wood, the Golden Wood Shield was another High Grade Magical Artifact, boasting defensive capabilities that ranked near the absolute pinnacle of its tier.

These two items perfectly plugged the glaring holes in Chu Xuan’s current arsenal.

A Foundation Establishment Pill?

Chu Xuan paused, fishing a pill out from the corner of the Storage Bag. He raised an eyebrow. Even with Ouyang Hao’s deep pockets, he shouldn’t have been able to afford this on the open market. The source was obvious: the Shenggang Sect’s Grand Elder must have bestowed it upon his prized pupil to guarantee a smooth future breakthrough.

It seems the Grand Elder truly valued him, Chu Xuan thought, a cold smile touching his lips. It didn’t matter. No one knew he was the killer. The Grand Elder could rage all he wanted and yearn to tear the murderer limb from limb, but the trail was already dead.

Still, a standard Foundation Establishment Pill probably isn’t enough to help me liquefy my spiritual power and cross the threshold. He was pragmatic about his own talents. He didn’t possess the heaven-defying aptitude required to casually ascend with a single pill. I still need the Foundation Building Blood Pill.

Time to convert this loot into actual combat power.

He carefully stowed the pill away and laid out the Heavenly Dipper Flying Sword and the Golden Wood Shield. Both Magical Artifacts still bore Ouyang Hao’s essence blood imprints.

An essence blood imprint bound a Magical Artifact to its master, preventing enemies from simply snatching it away mid-battle. A soul blood imprint—which fused both spiritual sense and essence blood—was far superior, but that technique was locked behind the Foundation Establishment stage. At his current Qi Condensation cultivation, Chu Xuan could only utilize essence blood.

He pressed two fingers against the cold metal of the Heavenly Dipper Flying Sword, injecting a razor-thin thread of spiritual power. He quickly located the foreign imprint pulsing within the blade’s core. With a ruthless surge of energy, he crushed it. It took about a quarter of an hour to completely scour Ouyang Hao’s lingering presence from the weapon.

Now, the sword was truly ownerless.

Chu Xuan struck his own chest, forcing up a drop of rich essence blood, and let it fall onto the blade. He immediately initiated the refinement process.

Three hours bled away. The cave was pitch black, but Chu Xuan’s eyes gleamed with a predatory light in the dark.

Done.

He could feel the thrumming, intimate connection linking his mind to the Heavenly Dipper Flying Sword.

He repeated the exact same brutal process with the Golden Wood Shield. Violently erasing foreign imprints and expelling his own essence blood to claim two High Grade Magical Artifacts took a toll on his body. Fatigue settled deep into his bones. He immediately fell into a meditative trance to recover. When he finally opened his eyes the next morning, his spirit was sharp and fully restored.

News of Ouyang Hao’s death shouldn’t have spread yet. I need to exploit this window before the Shenggang Sect realizes what happened and head back to Taiping Market to buy my supplies.

Wasting no time, Chu Xuan set off.

He altered his appearance once more, shifting his bone structure and features to become a gaunt, hollow-eyed male cultivator. He looked exactly like a desperate addict who had consumed far too many low-quality pills, his body ravaged by residual pill toxicity.

Navigating through the sprawling bazaar of Rogue Cultivator stalls, Chu Xuan headed toward the Hundred Herbs Pavilion. Suddenly, a particular stall caught his eye.

Something was wrong.

Laid out on the mat were several Wuji Sect Qi Condensation cultivation manuals. Among them sat the very technique he practiced: the Blood Transformation Spirit Stealing Art. Even more suspiciously, the stall offered nearly eighty percent of the rare materials required to refine the Foundation Building Blood Pill.

Alarm bells rang in Chu Xuan’s mind. The Wuji Sect had been annihilated. Who could possibly possess such a specific, massive stockpile of their exclusive resources?

It was a trap. Most likely, some hypocritical righteous path cultivators were fishing for surviving demonic remnants. If he took the bait, he was a dead man. His expression remained entirely blank as he casually turned to walk away.

“Fellow Daoist,” the white-haired stall owner suddenly called out. “I have top-quality goods here. Care to take a look?”

Chu Xuan’s internal vigilance spiked. “Not interested.”

The old man let out a raspy, strange chuckle. “What about the Blood Fiend Demon Refining Sutra? Not buying that either?”

Chu Xuan froze, his gaze snapping back to the stall owner.

That last sentence hadn’t entered through his ears. It had echoed directly inside his skull.

Sound Transmission!

It was a technique exclusive to Foundation Establishment cultivators, allowing two parties to converse in absolute secrecy unless intercepted by someone with vastly superior cultivation.

The mention of the Blood Fiend Demon Refining Sutra was the real bombshell. It was the Wuji Sect’s core Foundation Establishment technique. In fact, the three Qi Condensation manuals on display—including his own Blood Transformation Spirit Stealing Art—were merely prerequisites for it.

Martial Uncle Liu?

Chu Xuan instantly deduced the man’s identity. A Foundation Establishment cultivator who knew the recipe for the Foundation Building Blood Pill and possessed the sect’s core legacy? It could only be Liu Zhenxiong.

The white-haired stall owner smiled faintly. “Follow me.”

With a casual sweep of his sleeve, he swept the entire inventory into his Storage Ring and strolled unhurriedly toward the market’s exit. Chu Xuan didn’t hesitate, matching the man’s leisurely pace.

They blended seamlessly into the flow of departing cultivators, exiting Taiping Market without drawing a single glance. Only when they reached a desolate, secluded grove did Liu Zhenxiong finally stop.

“Are you Xiong Zhengxing? Or Liu Jinpeng?” the elder asked in a low, probing voice.

Chu Xuan couldn’t help but find it amusing. Those two were the twelfth and thirteenth-ranked inner disciples of the Wuji Sect, respectively. Back in the day, they had been his fiercest competitors for the tenth-rank position. Now? They were long gone, their corpses likely rotting in some forgotten ditch.

Slipping into a mask of perfect, subservient respect, Chu Xuan cupped his hands and bowed. “Wuji Sect Qi Condensation disciple, Chu Xuan, pays his respects to Martial Uncle Liu.”

Liu Zhenxiong’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “Chu Xuan? The tenth inner disciple?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I never would have imagined that the one who saved Chen Ge and Wei Hua—the one who slaughtered Ouyang Hao—was actually you.”

Chu Xuan offered a polite, self-deprecating chuckle, offering no further explanation.

When the Wuji Sect fell, he had only been at the fourth level of Qi Condensation. He had only secured his top-ten ranking by relying on underhanded, pragmatic methods—Gu insects, lethal poisons, and traps. It was perfectly logical that Liu Zhenxiong hadn’t suspected him of possessing such overwhelming, brute-force combat power.