Your Spell Version is Too Low!

’So this is... what it feels like to die?’

Slitting his own throat, Qi Yun felt his strength drain away until his vision went black and the world faded completely. He felt as if he were drifting blissfully into the sky.

Just as his consciousness was about to fade completely, a strange, gentle pull tugged at him, as if guiding him toward some unknowable destination. But before he could "fly" far, another, much stronger and more irresistible force seized him.

Before this tyrannical power, the gentle pull and the call of his destination were as fragile as a spider’s web, torn apart in an instant!

As his consciousness flooded back, warmth filled his entire body.

The lifeless body of Qi Yun, lying on the ground, suddenly shot up. A brilliant light once again shone from his dull, lusterless eyes.

Feeling his neck, which was now perfectly intact, Qi Yun grinned.

"Heh heh, in the end, I’m still the one who’s a cut above."

"You want to kill me? You’ll be long dead before I am."

Death Replacement.

A new mechanic for the Skull Curse, introduced in Version 4.0! 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

It activated upon Qi Yun’s death, transferring the "death" to his Protective Skeleton.

The price was that Qi Yun would completely lose the Skull Curse magic.

If he wanted to use it again, he would have to train it from scratch.

Trading one magic for a life was a deal with absolutely no downsides.

It was precisely because of this new Skull Curse mechanic from Version 4.0 that Qi Yun, caught between two Foundation Establishment Masters, had been able to find that faint glimmer of hope for survival!

Qi Yun quickly scanned his surroundings. Traces of the fierce battle remained, but the entirety of Piaohai Mountain had returned to a dead silence.

That terrifying Copper Armor Corpse had probably followed Zheng Yi’s aura far away by now.

Struggling to his feet, Qi Yun planned to find a place to lie low first.

A Foundation Establishment Master couldn’t possibly keep this Shiyi Realm sealed forever.

Once the Seal was lifted, he could return to the Outer Mansion and disappear among the countless disciples. Who would remember a small fry like him then?

However, the moment he lifted his foot—

"Leaving so soon?"

A voice, elegant and calm yet as shocking as a clap of thunder, drifted from behind him!

The sudden voice made Qi Yun freeze. With a grim expression, he turned around. There, sitting on a rock behind him, was Yang Cuan, fanning himself lightly with a folding fan and wearing an amused smile as he watched him.

’So he saw through me after all?’

Shaking his head with resignation, Qi Yun’s face showed no fear or panic, but rather the calm and acceptance of someone whose fate was sealed.

He stopped struggling altogether and simply flopped back down onto the cold ground.

"Oh? You’re not afraid?" Yang Cuan asked with great interest, seeing Qi Yun’s calm expression, which was devoid of the fear and panic one would expect when facing death.

"I gave it my all, but I still failed at the last hurdle. I accept it."

"No regrets for the moves I’ve made. I made my bet, and I’ll accept the loss!" Qi Yun said calmly.

"Excellent! ’No regrets for the moves I’ve made. I made my bet, and I’ll accept the loss!’ Well said!"

A flicker of admiration passed through Yang Cuan’s eyes as he nodded slightly.

Before his words had faded, his figure flickered like a phantom, and he appeared silently before Qi Yun. He looked down at him from above, his clear eyes seeming to peer straight into his soul.

"If you kowtow and beg me now, I might spare your life."

"Really?" Qi Yun raised an eyebrow, looking straight up at the Foundation Establishment Master before him. His gaze was so intense it was as if he would truly kowtow and beg for his life if Yang Cuan just nodded.

Looking into those bright, clear, and unwavering eyes, Yang Cuan suddenly burst into hearty, resonant laughter.

"You know when to advance and retreat, understand profit and loss, can make difficult choices, and possess a healthy sense of fear."

"And most importantly... you’re utterly ruthless!"

"You, kid, you’re a natural-born member of my Holy Sect!"

Before his laughter died down, Yang Cuan flicked his sleeve. A gentle Clear Wind manifested from thin air and steadily lifted Qi Yun from the ground.

"Since you’ve already died once, I will consider you truly dead."

"What happened before is water under the bridge. I will not pursue the matter further."

Hearing this, Qi Yun’s eyes immediately lit up.

Who wouldn’t want to live? As long as there was even a sliver of a chance, he would fight for it.

"Your temperament is excellent, and your methods are bizarrely effective. You truly are a talent worth nurturing..." Yang Cuan’s words carried a rare hint of praise.

Recognizing the implication in Yang Cuan’s words, Qi Yun showed a hint of surprise and blurted out, "Master, are you... going to take me as your disciple?"

Yang Cuan gave Qi Yun a cool glance but didn’t answer, continuing,

"But your aptitude is too poor."

Qi Yun: "..."

"Take this. Soon, the Outer Mansion may undergo some changes. If you can seize the opportunity, you might still have a chance to enter my tutelage." With a casual wave of his hand, Yang Cuan sent a streak of Flowing Light into Qi Yun’s hand.

It was a fragment that seemed to be neither wood nor jade, its surface faintly etched with several wispy, cloud-like patterns.

"This disciple thanks the Master for his favor." After securing the mystical fragment, Qi Yun cupped his hands and said.

"Alright, this matter is concluded. Hurry back and cultivate."

He waved his folding fan lightly at Qi Yun, and in an instant, a strong wind erupted from the ground, sweeping the young Daoist up into the clouds. In the blink of an eye, he had left the Shiyi Realm.

Just as Qi Yun’s figure vanished, a wretched figure stumbled out from the shadows of a cave.

It was Zheng Yi!

His face was as pale as wax paper and he was covered in blood, his Daoist Robe in tatters. Most shockingly, one of his arms was severed at the shoulder. The wound was a mangled mess of flesh, shrouded in nauseating wisps of black Corpse Qi.

Gazing in the direction Qi Yun had disappeared, he frowned deeply.

"Master... did you really... just let him go like that?" Zheng Yi’s voice was hoarse and weak from his severe injuries.

"What else?" Yang Cuan turned, his indifferent gaze sweeping over Zheng Yi’s pathetic state. His voice was flat and emotionless, yet it carried an invisible pressure.

"A mere Qi Refining Third Layer ran circles around you, a Qi Refining Sixth Layer."

"If I, your master, hadn’t sensed that your fated calamity was today, you would have already been torn to shreds by that Copper Armor Corpse!"

At the mention of the terrifying Copper Armor Corpse, Zheng Yi’s body trembled violently. The color drained from his face, and his eyes filled with uncontrollable terror and lingering fear.

"Your physical body has been corroded by Corpse Qi. Even if it’s repaired, your foundation has been damaged."

"That kid may have poor aptitude, but his spiritual nature for Magic is truly exceptional."

"After the Peach Garden opens, with his temperament and methods, he’s bound to make some gains. He’ll be able to compensate for his poor aptitude."

"When that time comes, I will help you possess his body, which will compensate for your own weakness—your lack of spiritual nature for Magic."

’Possession?’

Zheng Yi was stunned for a moment, then a wave of ecstasy mixed with awe for his master’s methods washed over him.

He instantly understood his master’s profound intentions and painstaking plan!

It turned out his master hadn’t really let Qi Yun go. He was treating him as a precious Elixir that needed to be "cultivated" first!

"Disciple... This disciple kowtows in thanks for Master’s grace of rebirth!"

Zheng Yi trembled with excitement. Ignoring the searing pain from his severed arm and his countless wounds, he struggled to his knees with a THUD. He slammed his forehead hard against the cold rock, his voice choked and fanatical.

"This disciple will cultivate diligently and not betray Master’s great kindness! I would die ten thousand times for you!"

Yang Cuan stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the perpetual gray fog of Piaohai Mountain. His eyes flickered inscrutably, his thoughts impossible to guess.

...