103: Chapter 103 A Series of Poisonous Arrays, Interception in the Mortal Realm

On the edge of the Xuantian Sect's jurisdiction lies a Mortal kingdom.

Deep underground in the Dali Dynasty, there is a huge subterranean karst cave river buried hundreds of zhang deep.

Here, the sun is never seen all year round, and the air is filled with pungent Mortal miasma.

There is no Spiritual Qi, no Yao Beasts, only endless darkness and cold groundwater.

For a Cultivator, looking at a place like this even for an extra glance would be considered bad luck.

But Qi Yang knew that this was definitely the best route for the Houtu Sect to transport the xirang residual mud.

At this moment, Qi Yang had disguised himself as a sallow-faced, wrinkly Mortal elder.

There was not the slightest bit of spiritual power fluctuation on his body, and even his breathing had become weak and prolonged.

He swallowed a top-grade breath-concealing pill, firmly locking his Qi Condensation 12th Layer Peak cultivation deep within his Dantian.

The Dao of Hiding's Law: never go head-to-head in the Domain that the enemy is best at.

The Cultivators of the Houtu Sect were experts at playing with earth.

To play with spiritual power Formations with them in underground karst caves? That was simply showing off before an expert.

As long as there was a trace of spiritual power fluctuation in the air, those precise spirit-detecting disks in their hands would immediately sound the alarm.

Therefore, Qi Yang had no intention of using any Formations with spiritual power fluctuations this time.

What he wanted to use was the most primitive, the most despicable, and the most unpredictable physical poison Formation!

Qi Yang hid behind a huge stalactite, holding a plant that was entirely pale white and shaped like a withered bone.

Wuxiang Cartilage Flower.

This thing couldn't even rank in the Cultivation World because it was only effective against Mortals, being a type of Mortal absolute poison.

But Qi Yang had seen a folk remedy in an ancient book.

If this Wuxiang Cartilage Flower was ripened to a hundred years old and then mixed with the underground miasma unique to the Mortal realm, a bizarre reaction would occur.

It would turn into a colorless, odorless terrifying mist specifically designed to disrupt the spiritual power circulation inside a Cultivator's body!

The most crucial thing was that this thing's onset did not require any spiritual power to trigger; it was like a gust of wind in nature, and a precise spirit-detecting disk simply could not measure the color of the wind.

Qi Yang uncapped the mysterious black gourd kept close to his body.

Drip-drop.

A drop of newly conceived, entirely emerald-green mysterious liquid dripped onto the Wuxiang Cartilage Flower.

In just a few breaths, this Mortal poisonous herb, which was originally only ten years old, was forcibly ripened to a hundred years old.

A trace of transparent juice even oozed from the pale white petals.

Qi Yang did not use a shred of spiritual power; relying purely on Mortal techniques, he crushed the petals and carefully smeared them on a few reefs along the inevitable path of the subterranean river.

Afterward, he took out several packs of specially made medicinal powder and hung them on the tips of the stalactites at the top of the karst cave.

As long as the water vapor of the underground river evaporated, the medicinal powder would silently melt into the air and perfectly mix with the juice of the Wuxiang Cartilage Flower.

A purely physical serial poison Formation was thus laid out.

After finishing all this, Qi Yang retreated into the dark corner and quietly lay dormant.

This wait lasted for a full half a month.

In half a month, Qi Yang did not move once, did not circulate spiritual power even once, and even lowered his breathing to the lowest frequency.

Finally, in the deep night of the sixteenth day, a slight sound of breaking water came from the end of the subterranean river.

They're here!

Qi Yang slowly opened those turbid eyes, staring fixedly ahead through the gaps in the stalactites.

I saw three specially made black-awning boats slowly sailing from the dark subterranean river.

There were no lights on the boats, and they relied entirely on manpower to row.

Standing at the bow were more than a dozen Cultivators wearing yellow tight-fitting garments, each with a steady aura.

Leading them were unexpectedly two top experts of the Qi Condensation 12th Layer Great Perfection!

This was the foundation of the Houtu Sect; in order to transport the xirang residual mud, they actually dispatched two Great Perfection Cultivators to lead the team.

"Stay alert!"

The Great Perfection Cultivator on the left lowered his voice, his gaze scanning the surrounding darkness like a falcon.

"Although this is the Mortal realm, the Xuantian Sect's dog noses are very sharp; we must absolutely not lower our guard!"

The Great Perfection Cultivator on the right held a palm-sized spirit-detecting disk in his hand, the needle on it as stable as Mount Tai.

"Rest assured, Senior Brother, the spirit-detecting disk has not the slightest movement. Within a radius of ten miles here, there isn't even a ghost's shadow, let alone any spiritual power Formations."

The two looked at each other, both seeing a trace of complacency in the other's eyes.

Those idiots from the Xuantian Sect must still be foolishly waiting in the few canyons at the border.

Who would have thought that their Houtu Sect would take such a Mortal subterranean river depleted of Spiritual Qi?

The team continued to advance cautiously, avoiding all underwater reefs that might conceal Formations, bypassing all narrow waterways where traps might be set, and their defense was strict to the extreme.

But the only thing they didn't guard against was the ubiquitous Mortal miasma in this karst cave that only smelled like earthy odor.

The black-awning boat slowly sailed into the serial poison Formation area set up by Qi Yang.

Water vapor evaporated, and the colorless, odorless toxins followed their breaths, silently drilling into their lungs and infiltrating their Meridians.

The spirit-detecting disk remained dead silent.

Qi Yang hid behind the stalactite, revealing a sneer.

The good show has begun.

Splash!

A muffled sound of falling into water suddenly broke the dead silence of the subterranean river.

"What is going on?!"

The leading Great Perfection Cultivator turned his head sharply.

I saw a Qi Refining Tenth Layer Disciple at the stern of the boat unexpectedly plunge headfirst into the bone-chilling subterranean river without any warning.

He struggled frantically in the water, his face pale, his eyes filled with undisguisable fear.

"Save... save me! My spiritual power... my spiritual power is gone!"

That Disciple screamed in terror.

He wanted to circulate spiritual power to surface, but found that his Dantian seemed to be tightly frozen by a piece of black ice, unable to mobilize a shred of Spiritual Qi at all!

"Enemy attack! Form up!"

The expressions of the two Great Perfection Cultivators changed drastically, roaring out, instinctively wanting to prop up their protective Qi.

But at the instant they frantically urged their Dantian, an indescribable soreness rapidly spread throughout their bodies.

The earth-type spiritual power originally full in the Meridians unexpectedly dissipated without a trace in just a few breaths!

"Impossible! What kind of poison is this?!"

The leading Great Perfection Cultivator's legs went soft, and he directly knelt on the deck.

He stared fixedly at the top-grade spirit-detecting disk in his hand; there was still not even a trace of spiritual power fluctuation alarm on the spirit-detecting disk!

No Formation fluctuations! No spell traces!

They were like they had been cursed, collectively turning into Mortals with no power to truss a chicken!

Splash! Splash!

One after another, the sounds of falling into water rang out.

More than a dozen elite Disciples of the Houtu Sect fell into the subterranean river one after another like dumplings being dropped into a pot.

Having lost their spiritual power protection, in this cold and turbulent subterranean river, they couldn't even protect themselves.

Qi Yang hid in the dark, his gaze cold to the extreme.

He did not appear to mock them, nor did he waste half a sentence, but unbuckled a completely pitch-black Mortal mechanical crossbow from his back.

This was something he casually bought at a blacksmith's shop in the Mortal kingdom; the workmanship was crude, but the power was enough to pierce a Mortal's skull.

The most important thing was that the tip of the crossbow was smeared with blood-dissolving powder!

Click.

Qi Yang calmly wound the string, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Swoosh!

A black crossbow bolt tore through the darkness, shooting with absolute precision into the neck of the leading Great Perfection Cultivator.

"Ugh..."

That Great Perfection Cultivator widened his eyes, pressing his neck tightly.

The toxicity of the blood-dissolving powder began to take effect.

His entire body was like a melting candle, rapidly turning into a pool of foul-smelling bloody water that seeped into the deck.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

Qi Yang expressionlessly continued to wind the string and shoot.

In this narrow subterranean river, facing a group of living targets who had lost their spiritual power, this was completely a one-sided slaughter.

In less than the time it takes to burn half an incense stick, the treasure-transporting team carefully selected by the Houtu Sect was completely wiped out.

Throughout the entire process, Qi Yang did not use even a shred of spiritual power, perfectly disguising it as the assassination technique of a Mortal Martial Artist.