Cultivation System: Elder Edition

Chapter 311

Surging Spirit Art (II)

Okay.

Fine.

The very first shaman to have ever lived is still alive. How? I... I can't even begin to understand it. Though cultivators can live for a long time, technically speaking, I don't think even Emperors are literally immortal. In that, they can still die of old age, specifically.

Now, that old age might run in the millions, but if even a quarter of what I read of this world is to be remotely trusted with, we're talking records that span hundreds of millions of years. And that's just supposed records.

So, if I'm being extremely conservative, there's a guy running around that's hundreds of millions of years old. The one conclusion is that he's a literal God--though the system didn't mention anything like that. It simply said that the first shaman is still alive and that literally nobody in the world knows that.

... except for me, I suppose.

Haah.

Rather, him being alive is actually secondary, stupid though that may sound; what worried me far more was why the system told me this specific bit of information. I've never gotten a straight-up lore dump as a reward before, so it concerns me that not only did I get one at last, but it's so world-shattering that it makes literal zero sense.

There's only one association that I can kind of vaguely connect it to--the thing that required me a billion points to view the info of. I don't think that's actually the first shaman or anything of the sort, as, on a cosmic scale and even compared to some of the options I have within the system even as of now, one billion points wasn't... a lot... Ugh, even the thought hurt, goddamn.

But it's entirely possible that the thing has some connection to the first shaman, which is why the system revealed it to me. I also don't really think making a relatively 'simple' healing art is anywhere near worth that level of info, but maybe the system's approach to it is different?

Haah.

One headache after another, rolling down the hill.

I need some fresh air.

It was a crack of dawn, with the golden hue of the sun slowly peeling the darkness back. The air was fresh, perfumed with an herbal scent; altogether pleasant.

I was just about to look through my understanding of the Surging Spirit Art and see precisely what it can actually do when a voice called out before the body appeared.

"Hm. Why do you smell familiar?" As the last note of the voice faded, a figure appeared in front of me; he wore rather luxurious and ornate emerald robes, bejeweled with gemmed adornments hanging on golden threads. He looked to be an old man, somewhere in his sixties appearance-wise, with a well-kept beard and a goatee and lustrous silver hair combed to the side.

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He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place him.

"I don't know. Why do you have the habit of smelling random strangers?" I was already in a foul mood, so I didn't put on any pretense, though I quickly pulled back; this was a den of monsters, after all. One fewer enemy made is a good boon.

"Hm," he stopped about four yards from me, looking down as he was good three heads taller. His eyes were stark silver, exuding ever-increasing killing intent. "You should have run to the ends of this world and hid."

"..." What the fuck is this guy on about?! "Do we know each other?"

"We don't need to," he said. "You killed my son."

"..." hm.

Right.

That actually narrows it down, and it finally helps me place it: it was that weird guy that descended on a warship and attacked us. It's such a blip in the overall fuckery of this world that I kind of forgot about him. I always expected it, honestly, and I'm kind of shocked that it hasn't happened all this time: a senior of somebody we killed coming back for vengeance.

"Your son? I think you're mistaken about something--"

"--then why do you have his warship on your person? If you were going to thieve, at the very least remove the Divine Imprint. Or are you enjoying making the mockery of me?"

"..." shit. Shit, shit, shit. As with most things in my life, I completely forgot about it! No, not even that; I'd just gathered the rings after.

"Humph. A brat won't even deny it," the old man said. "It can't have just been you; there were absolutely no traces of what happened, even though I rushed over immediately. My boy... there was nothing left of him. You pathetic vermin could not have done it. So, if you tell me who it was, I will grant you swift and painless death." Alright, I'm a bit angry. It might be because I always afford at least a base level of respect to everyone I meet while constantly being called vermin and shat on by random dudes I've never seen in my life before is getting to me.

Now, granted, we did kill his son, and he has every right to be angry with me, but to hell with that.

"Your boy was a degenerate scum who wanted to kill me and my kids despite us having never crossed paths before with him," I said, my voice turning cold. "Had you done a modicum of parenting, he would still be alive today."

"... you dare criticize my boy? If he wanted to skin you alive and feed your insides to beasts, you should have happily accepted with beaming smiles. Vermin should find it the joy of their lives to be of use to us."

"Oi, you piece of shit, call me vermin one more time and I'll cut your fucking balls off and shove them into your eye sockets, you old sack of shit."

"Ha ha, funny," he grinned. "A Revolving Core brat dares defy me. Do you think the rules of the city will protect you? You are nothing. Thin stripe of fading smoke. And you've earned the most painful death imaginable. When I'm through with you, you will wish you bent your neck that day and let my boy behead you cleanly." right. He really is just an arrogant sack of shit.

I know he's stronger than me--probably by a few orders of magnitude--but he sure as shit ain't stronger than the Sage. So, if I already have that thing hanging over my neck, what's this old guy to it? It's like tossing in a fingernail-sized leaf into a forest-sized fire.

"You--" hmm? I stopped as I saw the status window appear next to me rather suddenly.

[--you have been poisoned by fatal Hundred-Flower Death]

[...]

[Your body has resisted, converting the poison energy into pure Qi]

"... haggard piece of shit, did you just try to poison me?"

"Hoh?"

"For all your bravado, you tried to poison me? Wow. I feel bad for your son, to have been raised by a cowardly piece of shit like you."

"You are merely a dead man talking," he said as his grin widened. "There is a reason our sect is named after this poison--it is so deadly that the entire world acknowledges it. And not only is it deadly, it is excruciating. Most people end their own lives before the poison is even halfway through them."

I should probably inspect him before I decide what to do; for now, at least, this is just a personal grudge. And though I cursed and spat at him, I'm not really that angry that I'd drag us into conflict with an entire sect over what some old bag of bones has done to me. But... if the system reveals something... ugh, I really don't want to spend points, though. They're evaporating so quickly...