Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 74: Guide to the Yellow Springs

The midday sun beat down with vicious intensity. As it aligned with the Fragmented Face of God, it flared with a blinding radiance that forced mortals to bow their heads, unable to bear the glare.

The entity looming behind the sun was lofty and supreme. To all living beings, It was an existence that transcended time and space. Day or night, reality or dream, past or future—It remained eternal.

It witnessed the shifting of the world, the cycles of life and death, and the cruel, chaotic era birthed by Its very arrival.

The residual heat of the sunlight seemed infected by the ferocity of the Fragmented Face of God. It festered with malice, refusing to fade quietly as the seasons dictated. Instead, it frantically unleashed its scorching fury, invading every corner of the Seven Blood Eyes main city as if intent on evaporating all life.

Shadows beneath trees and eaves offered no sanctuary from the formless assault. Even the sea breeze failed to disperse the oppressive heat; it clung like a poison seeping into marrow and bone.

Much like the powder clinging to the hem of Xu Qing’s Daoist robe.

At a glance, the fabric looked untouched. But a closer inspection revealed faint traces of powder, most of which had already evaporated. The aura it emitted mirrored the malicious, sweltering heat of the Fragmented Face of God, aggressively seeping through the robe and into Xu Qing’s flesh and bone.

The invasion was rapid and greedy, taking hold in mere breaths.

Xu Qing’s expression remained placid. He lowered his head, his eyes narrowing at the hem of his robe, and continued his steady pace toward the berth.

The merman youth had secretly planted the powder during their brief clash. Anyone else would have failed to detect even the slightest trace by now. It was colorless, odorless, and strictly speaking, not even a poison.

But Xu Qing was a master of the medicinal path. The powder’s unique properties immediately brought seven or eight similar tracking agents to mind. To pinpoint the exact concoction, he needed to analyze it.

Regardless, this repeated provocation pushed Xu Qing’s killing intent toward the merman youth to a boiling point.

“It’s time to gut the fish,” Xu Qing murmured.

He walked to the harbor berth. The moment he stepped onto his Dharma Boat, he activated the protective barrier. The array flared, instantly cutting off the ambient noise of the docks and plunging the cabin into dead silence.

Sitting cross-legged on the floorboards, Xu Qing tore the contaminated hem from his Daoist robe.

He examined the fabric closely. Forming a one-handed seal, a ball of flame ignited, hovering just above his left palm.

Though the Sea Transformation Scripture was fundamentally a water-attribute art, it was standard practice for Cultivators to master minor auxiliary spells. The cultivation jade slip provided extensive guidance on such utilities.

With a flick of his wrist, Xu Qing sent the fireball to engulf the torn fabric.

The cloth sizzled, releasing faint wisps of smoke. Flickering firelight danced across Xu Qing’s face, casting his sharp features in shifting shadows.

He watched the fabric curl and blacken. Glowing red embers raced along the edges, devouring the gray material until nothing remained but fragile ash.

The flames died down. Xu Qing crushed the ashes in his palm, brought them to his nose, and inhaled the lingering smoke.

“The blood of a Ghost Desire Horseshoe Crab,” he murmured. “A poison, yet not a poison.”

Master Bai’s pharmacopoeia contained detailed records of the Ghost Desire Horseshoe Crab, a rare deep-sea dweller. Xu Qing actually possessed two of them, but lacking the necessary auxiliary ingredients, he had left them untouched.

He knew that when properly refined, their blood was a holy medicine for healing. However, if concocted through an inverse method, the yin-yang polarity would flip. The resulting aura would become something deeply abhorred by the vast majority of mutated beasts.

“And traces of Dawnlight Grass.” Xu Qing closed his eyes, finalizing his analysis. When they snapped open, his pupils were like pitch-black pools, bottomless and freezing.

Master Bai’s records didn’t explicitly state the result of combining these two ingredients, but basic pharmacological principles dictated that the Dawnlight Grass would exponentially amplify the beast-repelling effect.

A mild aversion would force beasts to steer clear. But an extreme, concentrated aversion? That would trigger a frenzy of killing intent. Hatred pushed to its absolute limit became an irresistible lure for violence.

Mixed together, the two ingredients formed a specialized liquid. A single touch was enough to stain a target’s entire body, the scent sinking deep into their flesh and blood.

Since it wasn’t technically toxic—and even provided a negligible nourishing effect to the body—it was virtually impossible to detect. Purging it was even harder; the scent would linger for years.

Its sole purpose was to act as a beacon for mutated beasts. It was the exact same principle as the lure vial Barbarian Ghost had carried in his leather bag back in the forbidden jungle near the Scavenger Camp, during Xu Qing’s first mission with the Thunder Squad.

However, while the pharmacological theory was identical, the quality of the ingredients was worlds apart. The difference was like heaven and earth.

If I stayed within the Sect, this aura wouldn’t pose much of a threat. But out on the Endless Sea… Xu Qing knew the truth. Setting sail with this scent clinging to his bones would be a one-way trip to the bottom of the ocean.

It was a flawless method of murder. No corpse, no bones, no evidence. It was as insidious as a viper lying in wait. Had it been anyone else without Xu Qing’s mastery of the medicinal path, they would have been torn apart in the deep waters, dying without ever knowing who had orchestrated their demise.

“I wonder if you have the skill to detect my tracking poison.” A cold glint flashed in Xu Qing’s eyes.

The merman youth thought he had played the hunter, but the mantis stalking the cicada is blind to the oriole behind it. During their brief clash, Xu Qing had planted his own poison on the merman!

His poison was equally harmless, serving strictly as a marker.

But while the merman youth had marked him for the jaws of unknown sea beasts, Xu Qing had marked the merman for the footsteps of the Grim Reaper on land.

Xu Qing’s expression remained entirely placid as he swept up the ashes of the burned hem. He opened his Storage Bag, took stock of his Pills, and then scanned the medicine cabinets lining the cabin.

He wasn’t particularly skilled in detoxification, especially against an aura that wasn’t inherently toxic. Because it caused no damage, the regenerative powers of the Purple Crystal wouldn’t trigger to purge it.

But he was exceptionally skilled at poisoning.

Calmly, Xu Qing retrieved an assortment of toxic powders and venomous Pills. Without a flicker of hesitation, he swallowed them dry. He then mixed seven or eight different lethal powders in the air and took a deep, dragging breath, inhaling the toxic cloud straight into his lungs.

Instantly, his body seized with violent tremors. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Yet, he remained seated in the lotus position, silently enduring the agony of the toxins ravaging his insides. He let the pain stoke the killing intent brewing in his heart, his demeanor as eerily calm as the eye of a hurricane.

The ingested poisons ignited within him, scorching his internal organs, searing his bones, and melting his flesh and blood.

Since the aura of the Ghost Desire Horseshoe Crab and Dawnlight Grass couldn’t be peacefully expelled, he would simply destroy the flesh it clung to. By flooding his system with lethal toxins, he forced the Purple Crystal to activate, relying on its monstrous regenerative power to rebuild his body from the ground up—free of the scent.

This agonizing process lasted a full two hours.

Outside, the sky bled into dusk. Xu Qing slowly opened his eyes, the whites heavily bloodshot. Thanks to his astonishing recovery rate, the lethal toxins had been completely metabolized and purged. Along with them went the insidious aura of the Ghost Desire Horseshoe Crab.

After a meticulous internal check to confirm he was clean, Xu Qing raised his head to watch the setting sun through the cabin window. His gaze was dark and fathomless.

“Soon, I’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep,” he murmured.

He stood up in silence, washed the toxic sweat from his body, and closed his eyes to rest.

A moment later, the sun dipped below the horizon, yielding the sky to the dark moon. The sparse stars scattered across the firmament looked like dying fireflies in a graveyard—insignificant, serving only as a grim embellishment.

It was a night perfectly suited for slaughter.

Xu Qing opened his eyes. He quietly slid the black iron spike into his sleeve, ran a whetstone over his dagger, and sheathed it in his boot.

He did a final inventory of his poisons. Preparations complete, he stepped out of the Dharma Boat. His speed erupted, and he vanished into the shadows in the blink of an eye.

Moonlight spilled across the paving stones, casting a pale, frigid glow. It illuminated the silhouette of a youth sprinting through the alleyways, his posture low, moving as silently as the wind. The lunar reflection caught in his lone-wolf eyes, sharpening into a glacial glint.

A chilling sea breeze swept through the streets, catching the hem of his long robe and whipping his black hair wildly. But the wind could not scatter the faint, specialized scent permeating the main city—the scent of his prey.

The rushing air whistled past his ears, sounding the horn of his killing intent.

He was going hunting.