What Yang Jia called "pasturing" was exactly what lay before their eyes: capturing Eighth-Rank [Azure-Winged] Sea Monsters, suppressing them, and throwing them to the yin-ghosts as bait, nurturing them into Seventh-Rank Yin Corpses.
By sacrificing a single Eighth-Rank creature, once infused with the yin-ghosts' blessing, one could harvest two incomparably precious Seventh-Rank materials from its corpse. It was a trade so profitable it defied imagination.
Why, then, was there not a single Eighth-Rank sea monster to be seen across the vast ocean?
Because every last one of them had already fallen into the grip of control.
Led by Yang Jia, the higher echelons of the Sea Monster clans had reduced their own kin to mere living resources reaped batch after batch, feeding their own cultivation.
And to maximize this harvesting, the sea clans even collaborated with humans.
The surplus Seventh-Rank Yin Corpses they could not consume themselves were handed over to the human race to deal with, splitting the spoils between them.
Thus, the great "Pasturing" at the close of every Yin Year became a grand oceanic feast, eagerly awaited by both human and sea-monster alike across all the Hun Continent seas.
Only this year was vastly different.
The sea clans had brought twice as many Azure-Winged Eighth-Ranks as before.
And yet, their own Seventh-Rank great demons had all withdrawn, leaving the work of butchering the Yin Corpses entirely to the humans.
By agreement, even Yin Corpses slain by human hands still required profit-sharing with the sea clans.
But in truth, these monsters had surrendered an enormous slice of profit.
And such profit would not be easily earned.
This Yin Year, the humans had already lost two Fate Isles: She Dizang Isle and Jiangzhu Isle. The Qizhi Isle, though replaced by the newly established Chanming Isle and spared outright destruction, was grievously weakened.
The entire human faction had plunged into a desperate low point.
Yet their enemies had doubled in number.
Though the government rallied every isle, forming for the first time a coalition army of unprecedented size, the pressure pressing down on them was still crushing.
Not long after, Ao Xia and Daxing arrived as well, each dragging with them fifteen more Eighth-Rank sea monsters.
The number of Seventh-Rank Yin Corpses on the battlefield now formally surpassed the human fleet.
The situation grew ever grimmer.
Even if these forcibly raised Yin Corpses were poor in divine powers and spellcraft, the weakest of all Seventh-Rank beings in that regard, their physical might remained overwhelming.
When dozens of such Yin Corpses appeared at once, their monstrous aura loomed like a storm cloud, casting a suffocating shadow over the hearts of the human coalition.
And still, more great demons were on their way. The intensity of the battle was only climbing higher.
...
Within the Void Realm, Jing Qian stretched lazily, waking from his deep meditation.
It had been a success; he could already feel the profound changes in himself.
Peering inward, he saw within his sea of consciousness a small jade sword casket, perfectly containing his [Qingping's End] Pattern.
With a sweep of his Worldly Insight, the information of the sword casket flowed directly into his mind:
[Spiritual Construct: Qingping Sword Casket]
[Suppression Requirement: Pattern of Lingbao, Pattern of Gods and Ghosts]
[Life Burden: Two hours per day]
Unlike the [Tsushima Seal], which had been devoured by the Void Furnace, this Qingping Sword Casket had fully integrated into his cultivation system, becoming a true Spiritual Construct under his command.
Forged through the secret arts of Pure Yang Ruins, it had become his Spiritual Construct, marking the smooth completion of his Spiritual Construct-Binding Fate.
Even without setting foot in the Ritual Grounds, he had already achieved what the venerable Shangxi Daoist could never obtain, becoming a Pure Yang Spiritual Construct Child.
Having gained such a treasure, Jing Qian threw himself entirely into exploring the wondrous effects of the Qingping Sword Casket.
This was, after all, a Spiritual Construct blessed by the Sword Dao's Heavenly Mandate!
He pushed his Worldly Insight to its limits, wrapping it around the sword casket, probing deeply into the myriad transformations and marvels the Mechanism bestowed.
Not long after, the first marvel of the sword casket revealed itself to Jing Qian's mind.
Inside the sword casket, a square meter of dimensional space suddenly appeared.
Within it rested the bamboo-leaf-shaped blade manifested from [End of Qingping], nourished and constantly strengthened by the case's power.
This was the fundamental ability of all sword caskets forged through the Hidden Sword Casket manual; they functioned not only as treasures of cultivation but also as storage artifacts.
Jing Qian's case had originated from Chi Ling's [Pure Yang Sword Casket], and he had perfectly inherited its storage space.
At present, the Qingping Sword Casket contained a small pile of clutter, Chi Ling's personal belongings.
Jing Qian, unlike Chi Ling, had no shortage of storage space.
With a single wave of his hand, he swept all the miscellaneous junk into the Void Realm, leaving only the body of [End of Qingping] within the case.
Just as he finished cleaning, a glimmer of light slipped free from among Chi Ling's discarded belongings and fell into his palm. It unexpectedly resonated with his [Longevity] Life Pattern, circling in his hand.
Jing Qian froze for a moment. The light was strange indeed, radiating a soft, gentle glow that seemed to contain some unknown power.
When he probed it again, a message entered his mind:
"Zhuoling Grotto-Heaven, emerging on the fifth day of the fifth month.
The Contest of Longevity, belonging to the Spiritual Constructs."
This peculiar token was, in fact, the very cave-heaven beacon Luo Yaozhi of Zhizhou had once sought from Chi Ling, granting entry to Zhuoling Grotto-Heaven.
Chi Ling had hidden it in her sword casket, waiting until she advanced to Longevity, awakened her [Longevity] Life Pattern, and could officially activate it to secure a place.
But now, though Jing Qian's cultivation was merely at Ninth-Rank [Fatebinding], he had miraculously awakened [Longevity], allowing him to activate the beacon and claim the slot for himself.
There were still six months before the fifth day of the fifth month, giving him ample time to decide whether to venture into Zhuoling Grotto-Heaven.
Yet, with so little knowledge about it, Jing Qian felt little excitement over the opportunity itself.
What did catch his eye was the beacon's structure, an exquisite use of sub-spatial power, a design highly instructive for his own [Sumeru] Life Pattern.
He commanded [Sumeru], swallowed the beacon whole, and began slowly digesting its mysteries.
Then Jing Qian turned his attention back to the sword casket, where [End of Qingping] swam through the inner space like a living fish.
He experimented by channeling a single [White Fang Life Essence] into the case, merging it with the blade.
At once, a faint thread of sword qi curled around it.
He sent in another Life Essence, and the sword qi grew stronger.
One by one, Jing Qian poured all his Life Essences into the Qingping Sword Casket.
Within the case, the sword qi's might surged higher and higher.
Without pause, he cast Rune Imprinting Arts to restore his strength, then fed in newly condensed Life Essences.
The qi intensified further still, until the power housed in the sword casket exceeded Jing Qian's own limits.
This was the second marvel of the Qingping Sword Casket; beyond storage, it could accumulate sword qi.
As long as he continued feeding Life Essences into it, the qi inside would steadily grow.
From this point forward, whenever he had spare Life Essences, he could deposit them here.
If he nurtured it for years on end, his sword casket would one day unleash a strike of unimaginable terror.
Given the exalted nature of [End of Qingping], such a stored attack would inevitably become his ultimate trump card.
If he ever met an enemy too powerful to overcome outright, he could simply bide his time, condense his strength, and then release a devastating strike.
In his mind, Jing Qian could not help but imagine scenes of turning the tide, of sudden reversals, of overwhelming victory; his spirits soared.
He was deeply satisfied with this second marvel. Truly worthy of a Heaven-Mandated Spiritual Construct.
Continuing his exploration, Jing Qian uncovered the third marvel of the Qingping Sword Casket.
It entered his heart with ease, and he quickly grasped its meaning.
This ability was called "Swordlight Division."
This was a formidable sword technique, one of the great Fate-Arts of the sword path, perfectly complementing the second marvel of the sword casket.
The vast strike of sword qi he nurtured within the casket could never be spent casually in everyday battles.
But through this "Division of Swordlight" Fate-Art, he could split off a portion of that stored power, shaping it into an attack.
Though the divided sword qi could not compare to the original, at most one-fifth of its might, it cost almost nothing to wield, consuming only a trace of energy.
And yet, as more and more Life Essences were poured into the Qingping Sword Casket, the strength of the original sword qi would someday surpass even five times his full-force strike.
By then, every single fragment of swordlight he split off would exceed his natural limit.
And with time, as his mastery of the Swordlight Division deepened, he would eventually be able to call forth two, three, or even more streams of sword qi at once.
The power of this casket spoke for itself. Jing Qian's offensive ceiling had been raised immeasurably.
With just these three divine effects, his newborn Qingping Sword Casket had already far exceeded his expectations.
And this was only the beginning. The more Life Patterns he bound into it, the more divine effects it would awaken.
Each new effect would be a qualitative leap.
As the most demanding inheritance among the twelve great lineages of the Academy, the Hidden Sword Casket was absurdly strong.
Only now, standing within the Stele of Fates, did Jing Qian truly realize how terrifying this Spiritual Construct was.
In the real world, the sword qi he painstakingly nurtured was a trump card he dared not squander.
But within this stele-space, where death meant only refreshment, it became a regular weapon!
With that thought, Jing Qian abandoned all distractions, ghosts, corpses, everything, throwing himself into his new obsession.
He slipped from the Void Realm into the deep sea, and there he began again and again to wield Rune Imprinting Arts, drawing in the ocean's vitality, restoring his power, and funneling it all into the sword casket to feed his growing storm of sword qi.
As he worked, he used World's Insight to feverishly deduce methods for binding Life Patterns to the casket.
He longed to merge it with Sumeru, with World's Insight itself, with every strong Life Pattern he possessed.
Jing Qian had lost himself completely.
Every increment of strength within his sword casket translated to tenfold might in the stele-space.
After all, he still carried within him the divine-soul avatar of an entire province's Zhizhou, a treasure trove of power and memory beyond price!
Before, he had thought it impossible to slay the Zhizhou in the short term.
But now for the first time, he saw a sliver of real hope. He could not hold back his excitement.
This was the truth of every disciple of Pure Yang Ruins.
The sheer allure of the Hidden Sword Casket drew them into obsession, body and soul.
And the surge in power it granted pushed them, step by step, toward challenging ever-stronger foes.
Thus, the disciples of Pure Yang Ruins suffered horrifyingly high mortality.
If Chi Ling had not been so confident in her strength, she never would have dared venture into the Vast Sea alone, where the monsters lay their trap.
And so Jing Qian lay at the seabed, beginning a strange journey of sword-forging.
Driven at full tilt, his Rune Imprinting Arts could restore more than ten White Fang Life Essences an hour.
With his formidable mental strength, he could keep at it six or seven hours a day without strain.
And so he worked like a madman, grinding day after day.
He set himself a simple task: pour at least a hundred Life Essences into the sword casket every single day.
And thus the might of his sword qi swelled with each sunrise.
By the tenth day, the root sword qi of the Qingping Sword Casket had passed a critical threshold, its power now greater than five times his own full-strength strike.
From that moment on, every swordlight he split surpassed his natural maximum yet cost less than a tenth of his reserves.
Even without unleashing the true great strike, his combat power had multiplied tenfold.
This was why those known as Spiritual Construct Bearers were revered as the strongest of their generation, with power far beyond the reach of ordinary peers.
Su Min'er, for instance, had barely housed her Spiritual Construct, yet she could already duel the great master of Blueblood Lantern for three days and nights.
And Chi Ling at the mere Dragon-Elephant stage had required decades of suppression from multiple grandmasters.
But Jing Qian had now surpassed Chi Ling in every way, a complete evolution worthy of the name Spiritual Construct-Bearer.
The more he poured into it, the higher his ceiling rose.
Every extra Life Essence he sacrificed was another step toward unmatched supremacy.
The efficiency of this growth rivaled the legendary Deep Blue Points (cheat-level point allocation) of another world; it was utterly addictive.
And so he pushed on, relentless.
This strange cultivation continued until the twelfth month of the Yin Year when an unexpected sight broke his focus.
Deep beneath the sea, ten thousand meters down, Jing Qian felt a monstrous presence pass above.
A divine whale.
Its surge of demonic aura made his hair stand on end.
Through World's Insight, the scene above imprinted itself upon his mind.
It was the Island Whale, dragging a massive iron chain tethered to twenty-eightth-rank Azure-Winged Sea Demons as it swam.
The creature was all too familiar.
A year ago, it had swallowed Qing Zhuzi in a single gulp.
Back then, Jing Qian had been pathetically weak, fragile as porcelain.
But now he had undergone a great leap in mass and might.
With the Qingping Sword Casket at his side, its power amplified by thousands of Life Essences, even he did not know the full measure of his strength.
From the reef, Jing Qian rose silently, stepping into a dimensional void. His body vanished without a ripple.
It was time for a reunion with an old acquaintance.
And he would greet it with good wine and fine smoke the blade.
The Island Whale, a seventh-rank behemoth, long-lived and peerless in flesh, was one of the most iconic creatures of this sea.
Over endless years, its body had grown covered in layers of thick armor-like shell.
Within the void, Jing Qian's fingertip brushed the warm jade surface of the Qingping Sword Casket.
Sharp light pulsed along its etched lines.
Inside, the storm of sword qi he had nurtured for nearly a month, born from thousands of Life Essences burned into steel, roared and boiled.
"World's Insight open!"
The pupils of Jing Qian's eyes lit up with profound runes, and the world before him suddenly unraveled into pure structure.
On the armored hide of the Island Whale, three spiritual meridians intertwined, forming its protective mana network.
The system looked slapdash, almost careless.
It was no surprise that over the years, no one had ever dared trouble this colossal beast. Its body, stretching a thousand meters long, was the best shield it could ask for.
But today, someone had chosen it as a target to test his sword.
A thin crack in the void opened beneath the Island Whale's belly.
A streak of pale green sword-qi shot out. The sword Life Pattern carried by Qingping Sword Casket revealed itself to the world for the very first time.
Though the Island Whale's hide was as tough as iron walls, the blade of light burrowed deep.
The mana glow of its abdominal armor flared wildly, but the instant it touched that sword-qi, it melted like wax before fire.
As it swam, the Island Whale felt something, a faint prickle across its belly, like grazing against a sharp edge and scraping off a thin layer of skin.
It had been ages since it felt even that small sting.
Its divine sense swept outward but found nothing unusual.
So it shifted its swimming pattern, beating fins like mountains, spinning its massive body as it moved.
The entire sea quaked, tides surging in rolling walls.
No ordinary creature could approach.
Yet the foe it had met today belonged to the underworld; it cared nothing for crashing waves.
Once again, from the earlier wound, a rift in the void opened. A new sword-qi slashed down at the same spot.
This time, the cut drove a hundred meters deeper.
The Island Whale flinched hard, its titanic body twisting in pain.
It finally sensed something was wrong and unleashed a stronger defense.
A flood of Blue-Blood Life Essence erupted from its spirit sea, surging through its vast body.
That immense size gave it nearly endless reserves of mana.
The Life Essence poured outward like a tide, congealing on its armored surface into a translucent blue shield that shimmered with an eerie glow.
But it had no idea it was all a useless waste of power.
The enemy it so feared had already slipped inside.
Jing Qian had seized the moment when his sword pierced the armor to dive into its body through the dimensional void.
Inside was a hell of flesh and blood, radiant with thick, crimson spiritual light.
Jing Qian could not tell direction, so he followed the energy meridians his Worldly Insight vision revealed, moving deeper.
And as he advanced, he casually cut loose bursts of razor sword-qi.
Every strike was aimed at meridians, blood channels, and vital mana junctions; each blow was a deadly wound.
The ancient whale was out of luck. Its enormous body ached all over, as if it had fallen into a grave illness, stabbed with pains it could not locate.
The deeper Jing Qian went, the sharper his strikes. He soon found the real prize hidden within.
For this ancient leviathan, countless years of life had yielded a treasure buried in its fat.
Whale Fat Essence.
A rare substance condensed by refining mana within its blubber over centuries.
At its best quality, such essence could even serve as a core anchor for forging a Life Furnace.
Even now, this Whale Fat was a perfect fuel to stoke a life-furnace
Exactly what Jing Qian needed for the evolution of his Void Furnace.
So he burrowed through the Island Whale's body, seeking the Whale Fat and mining it without the slightest concern for whether the colossal beast lived or died.
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