Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Guest Becomes the Host

“Master Black Steward, that group has returned,” reported a man dressed in black robes, his figure resembling a skeleton, bowing respectfully to the person seated upon a throne of blood-red iron, less than a hundred miles from the ruins.

Upon the blood-red throne sat a towering figure clad in a crimson robe, a black bat emblem embroidered upon his chest. His face was veiled by a swirling scarlet mist, obscuring his features.

The Black Steward lounged lazily against the armrest, his fingers tapping a rhythm without pattern. After a moment, he spoke coldly, “Can they break through that damned Celestial Yang Skymaster Array this time?”

The skeletal man answered cautiously, “Master, they seem well-prepared. Two suspected array masters have entered; it appears they’ve made thorough preparations.”

“Oh? It seems they’re not entirely useless, after all. My long wait of over a year here may finally bear fruit—at last, the task entrusted to me by Lord Helmmaster will be fulfilled.” The Black Steward’s tone softened slightly, his mood evidently improved.

“Congratulations, Master! Soon, you’ll be the foremost steward under Lord Helmmaster, and with the Purple Palace achieved, the founding of a new branch is just around the corner!” Seizing the moment, the skeletal man showered flattery upon him.

Yet, the Black Steward merely snorted, “Hmph. Had my nest in the Moonwatch Mountains not been destroyed by the Song clan, I’d have broken that Celestial Yang Skymaster Array long ago, not dragged things out until now!”

“Those worthless fools deserved their fate, failing even to capture a few children with spiritual roots, and ruining your arrangements in the Moonwatch Mountains,” the skeletal man echoed quickly.

“That’s not for you to comment on. Send someone to monitor that group; as soon as the array is breached, execute them all. Don’t let them touch anything within the ruins, understood?” The Black Steward’s voice was icy.

“Yes, sir!”

…

At the periphery of the ruins, Zhu Yiqun and his companions strained every effort to maintain two passageways, unaware they had already fallen into the Blood Demon’s trap.

“Old Zhu, why aren’t Fellow Daoist Xu and Fellow Daoist Song done yet? The strain is too much—everyone’s about to collapse,” said Li Hu, his face pale as death.

The others, save Zhu Yiqun, Zhuang Yuechan, and Xu Yunhe, were faring poorly, their spiritual power nearly depleted.

“Hold on a bit longer. We’ve prepared for so long—there may never be such an opportunity again. I believe they’ll succeed,” Zhu Yiqun gritted his teeth, encouraging the group, though anxiety gnawed at his heart.

He could only pray silently that he hadn’t misjudged…

Within the grand array, Song Changsheng was nearing its center, where the difficulty of deduction had grown formidable.

If not for his years immersed in Daoist scriptures, his spirit greatly strengthened, he would never be able to sustain such intense calculations.

“The array’s core should be nearby—three steps left, two forward.” Song Changsheng moved lightly, taking the final step. His gaze sharpened, and with a wave of his sleeve, he summoned the Water Origin Shield to protect himself.

A deep, resonant bell sounded as the shadow of a giant bronze bell materialized, colliding instantly with the Water Origin Shield.

“Defend!”

Song Changsheng maneuvered the shield skillfully while retreating, landing precisely along the path he had previously deduced.

“So the array’s core is a spiritual weapon—what a lavish hand the master of these ruins had!” Song Changsheng marveled at the bell’s shadow before him.

In this world, magical implements are classified by cultivator realms—first-grade, second-grade, and so forth.

Yet, once a tool reaches the second grade, a distinction emerges: Foundation Establishment cultivators can nurture their implements within their dantian, a process called spirit nurturing.

After prolonged nurturing or using special methods, implements develop sentience—thus becoming spiritual weapons.

Above them are treasures, spiritual treasures, and even law treasures.

No matter the craftsman’s skill, newly forged implements are merely mundane objects; sentience must be cultivated afterward, with rare exceptions.

Though spiritual weapons are nominally second-grade, their value far surpasses ordinary implements. Implements are lifeless, while spiritual weapons possess intelligence—half alive, able to maximize their owner’s strength.

Never underestimate this—on the battlefield, it is an immense advantage.

Implements are easy to acquire, spiritual weapons are scarce. Even in the Song clan, only a handful exist, treasured through generations.

“Though this is a superior spiritual weapon, it’s ownerless—manageable enough,” Song Changsheng thought as the bell’s shadow launched another attack, swirling waves rippling silently from its form.

“Treasure Gourd, forth!” Song Changsheng recalled the Water Origin Shield to his side, then summoned the Water-Fire Treasure Gourd, clashing head-on with the bell’s shadow.

Gourd and bell collided, unleashing thunderous reverberations. Song Changsheng’s sleeve swept out, sending twelve formation flags in a straight line.

The flags formed a circle in midair, surrounding the bell’s shadow.

He held his breath, carefully guiding each triangular flag to merge with the array’s foundation according to his deductions.

Song Changsheng’s actions were audacious—not merely aiming to destroy the array’s core and break the formation, but to seize control of the entire array.

He had comprehended every pattern of the Celestial Yang Skymaster Array; now, by arranging a reversal formation at its core, he could wrest control.

With the array’s core subdued, he would become master of the formation.

His motive was not greed for the treasures within the ruins, but to leave himself an escape.

After all, among so many, he was only a temporary addition. Should anyone harbor ill intent and betray him, he would have means to counter.

It was not petty suspicion, but prudent caution—better safe than sorry.

The bell’s shadow, sensing Song Changsheng’s intentions, intensified its assaults; the Treasure Gourd was forced back repeatedly.

Song Changsheng’s face grew pale, for each strike from the bell shook his spirit. Had Xu Yun been here instead, her soul would have already shattered into madness.

“A mere spiritual weapon—do you think you can overturn the heavens?” Song Changsheng swallowed a few pills to strengthen his spirit, shouting with fierce determination.

“Water Origin Shield, forth!”

He abandoned his own defenses, pressing both supreme implements against the bell’s shadow, successfully suppressing it.

Seizing the moment, he laid out the reversal formation.

Thanks to his profound understanding of array patterns, the setup proceeded smoothly.

At the moment of success, Song Changsheng unleashed his full power, subduing the spiritual weapon at the core, and forcibly imprinting his soul upon it.

In that instant, he seized control of most of the array’s authority!

…