Chapter 311: Senior, Aren't You a Sword Cultivator?

The Ghost Cultivator’s face contorted in terror as a black vein pulsed to life on his right wrist. Like a writhing earthworm, the vein erupted, sending three strands shooting toward Chen Luo’s face. This was the power of the Ghost Temple, a mark carried by all its cultivators.

Crack!

Chen Luo’s five fingers clamped around the cultivator’s neck while his other hand gripped the crown of his head. Twisting it back and forth as if unscrewing a bottle cap, he gave a final, brutal wrench.

With a sickening pop, Chen Luo ripped the Ghost Cultivator’s head clean off his shoulders.

The three black strands reached his face, but before they could touch him, a layer of crackling lightning enveloped Chen Luo’s body, repelling the dark energy. The tendrils writhed briefly, desperate to burrow through the barrier.

Silhouette Curse—easily broken, the Demonseed Sect Leader’s consciousness within Chen Luo’s External Brain recognized the technique with eerie familiarity. Chen Luo jabbed a finger between the strands with his free hand, and the three menacing lines instantly withered, dissolving into a puddle of inky blackness on the ground.

“Brainless?” Chen Luo muttered, having dispelled the Silhouette Curse. He pressed his fingers against the severed head, trying to sense a mental presence.

But there was nothing. Looking down, he realized that the brain had turned a dull, lifeless gray the moment he killed the cultivator.

The slain Ghost Cultivators gradually materialized, revealing their true forms. Their dark, bluish-green bodies, perpetually hidden from sunlight, were not composed of flesh and blood but woven from a strange, coarse fabric. As Chen Luo crushed them, the remnants of their cloth bodies visibly decayed, crumbling into piles of black ash that emitted a pungent, putrid stench within the blink of an eye.

“Junior Brother Chen…” one of the onlookers murmured.

“Senior Brother,” Chen Luo replied.

Witnessing this spectacle, everyone present swallowed hard. It was the first time they had seen anyone dispatch Ghost Cultivators in such a brutal manner.

“I’m heading to Pharmaceutical King Peak,” Chen Luo announced.

Discarding the handful of black ash, he vanished in a flash, reappearing outside the peak’s entrance. His Divine Sense had detected the aura of Xue Ning, the Ghost Cultivator, in that direction.

Low-level Ghost Cultivators were mindless, but Xue Ning was different. Chen Luo had witnessed her transformation firsthand. Her ability to slay the Zombie Cult Leader demonstrated Core Formation-level combat prowess. For Chen Luo, who had just transcended his Tribulation and ascended to the next realm, dealing with someone of her caliber would be a convenient way to hone his skills.

Meanwhile, atop Pharmaceutical King Peak…

A figure, drenched in blood, was sent flying backward. Before he could escape, a bizarre scroll unfurled, blocking his path and forcing him back into the peak’s depths. His unseen enemy lurked in the shadows, leaving him completely unaware of who he was fighting.

The few clashes had been massive collisions of primordial qi. While effective twice, repeated use would quickly deplete his reserves. As a Blood Pill cultivator, indiscriminate bombardment was too taxing for the Nine Poisons Valley Lord, especially since he couldn’t even see his Ghost Temple adversaries.

Neither his Divine Sense nor his Spirit Eyes proved effective.

A chilling aura enveloped him once more. Gasping for breath, the Nine Poisons Valley Lord sensed his enemies slowly closing in. Yet he remained blind to their presence, completely unaware of where their next strike would come from.

“You want me dead? Then let’s die together!”

Exhausted but with a glint of viciousness in his eyes, the Nine Poisons Valley Lord forced his Blood Pill from his body.

A blinding light swirled around the crimson sphere before it detonated with a thunderous boom. The spherical blast carved a massive crater in the earth, and the shockwave shattered the surrounding cloth into countless fragments.

As the aftershocks subsided, the Nine Poisons Valley Lord’s figure vanished, replaced by a shadowy figure wreathed in ashen miasma. The “Golden Core self-detonation” he had just performed had merely destroyed two low-grade Ghost Cultivators woven from enchanted cloth.

“Joining the Ghost Temple is your ultimate destiny.”

Xue Ning crouched down, gently circling her index finger over the spot where the Nine Poisons Valley Lord had died. A ring of grayish-white energy seeped into the ground, as if she were trying to summon something from the depths.

“Xue Daoist, long time no see.”

A streak of light flashed across the sky, and Chen Luo appeared beside Xue Ning as if he had teleported. He extended his left hand in a casual greeting, like meeting an old friend. His gaze swept over the nearby crater, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes.

What a waste. Not even a brain left behind.

“Huh?”

Xue Ning looked up, confusion etched on her face as she met Chen Luo’s smiling gaze.

He’s really greeting me?

Who is this person?

Boom!

Before Xue Ning could react, a shadow crackling with lightning surged toward her face. The whistling wind pressure accompanied a brutal slap that landed squarely on her cheek.

Bang!

A shockwave erupted! The brute force collision sent neither combatant staggering.

The slap, infused with the power of Bone Patterns, felt like striking a stone tablet. A chilling sensation spread through Xue Ning’s face as dense, black inscriptions materialized on her skin. These characters, reminiscent of the sacrificial texts found near the Ghost Temple, exuded an eerie, sinister aura.

“A Body Cultivator? Now that’s a warm welcome.”

Xue Ning’s body had completely transformed into the color of a stone stele, a gray inner Pill swirling in her lower abdomen. A pitch-black serpent emerged from her right shoulder, coiling around her neck before lunging at Chen Luo’s wrist.

A curse! A venomous technique!

Before the serpent could strike, a thunderous explosion erupted, infused with the power of a Heavenly Tribulation.

Boom!

Yin Thunder radiance exploded from Chen Luo’s palm, unleashing the Yin Thunder Spell Technique he had previously cultivated. With the Bone Pattern, the power of Chen Luo’s thunder magic had amplified immeasurably. Now, channeling the Primordial Qi of Heaven and Earth, the spell’s effect resembled a genuine Heavenly Tribulation.

The shadow serpent’s head had barely emerged when the thunderbolt struck.

Black smoke billowed from its body as its neck snapped. The remaining force detonated between them, finally forcing Xue Ning to retreat. The inscriptions on her left cheek crumbled, sending a large shard of stone flying.

A muffled grunt escaped her lips as she swiftly backed away.

The swirling silken banners surrounding them trembled once more, attempting to use their magic artifact properties to separate the two combatants. The best strategy against Body Cultivators was to maintain distance, and Xue Ning had mistaken Chen Luo for one.

“You want to fight with Magic Artifacts? I’ve got one too.”

Chen Luo retrieved the only chessboard that had survived his Tribulation Transcendence. Gripping it like a brick, he swung it down on Xue Ning’s head.

Even a Nascent Soul Realm Magic Artifact, heavily damaged by Heavenly Thunder, possessed power far beyond what mere cloth could withstand. The chessboard shattered the cloth Xue Ning had just raised to block the blow, tearing it apart. The artifact, already weakened by the Nine Poisons Valley Lord’s Blood Pill self-detonation, was reduced to tattered scraps.

Seizing the opportunity, Chen Luo swiftly closed the distance to Xue Ning. He had already claimed her head, and he wouldn’t let her escape no matter what! That’s why he hadn’t used his Sword Cultivator techniques or thunder-based divine abilities earlier.

He was afraid of damaging her brain.

Midair, Chen Luo’s bone patterns shimmered, the first one lighting up. Hideous Demonic Qi erupted from his body, radiating a primal aura that inspired terror.

Xue Ning’s expression tightened. She swiftly drew upon the surrounding Heaven and Earth Primordial Qi to create a barrier. But Chen Luo countered ruthlessly. Unleashing the pressure of his Golden Core Realm cultivation, he forcibly commandeered the majority of the qi, condensing it into a massive, arm-like construct that charged forward relentlessly, crushing Xue Ning’s resistance. The remaining force, combined with Chen Luo’s momentum, drove a devastating punch into Xue Ning’s chest.

Crack!

Half of Xue Ning’s body caved in, and a mouthful of blood sprayed from her lips. The force of the blow sent her spinning through the air, slamming her violently into a large boulder below. Her head struck a sharp edge, leaving a deep dent and scattering fragments of rock. Lightning arcs erupted around her, scorching the surrounding earth black.

Struggling to turn over in the crater, Xue Ning saw Chen Luo floating above, lightning crackling around his arms. With fists spread wide, he plunged downward like a thunderbolt.

Too fast!

It’s too fast!

Even seeing it coming was no use.

Trapped in the crater, Xue Ning felt like a worm wriggling helplessly in a mud pit, unable to escape. She could only watch as Chen Luo’s fists, like iron hammers, came crashing down on her.

The mystical arts of her Ghost Cultivator techniques seemed utterly useless in this moment. Before she could even grasp why, Chen Luo’s fists landed, blasting her body in two with thunderous force.

Her lower half vanished without a trace, while her upper torso was mostly crushed. Only her head, from the neck up, remained relatively intact.

The shockwaves gradually subsided after what felt like an eternity.

Chen Luo strode over and pressed his palm against Xue Ning’s head, attempting to read her mind.

The Lightning Arc-infused palm shocked Xue Ning into a dazed delirium. She never imagined she would be defeated so swiftly, so inexplicably.

From beginning to end, she hadn’t even grasped the identity of her attacker.

“Who are you?!” Xue Ning spat out a mouthful of black blood, utterly unable to recall him.

The blood splattered onto Chen Luo’s body, hissing and emitting white smoke as the Curse’s power activated instantly. Curses, Yin Souls, virulent poisons—these were the Ghost Temple’s signature divine abilities. Yet against Chen Luo, these normally infallible techniques were as effective as a mosquito bite. He didn’t even glance at the cursed blood, dismissing it entirely. This blatant disregard stung worse than any insult.

“Why can’t I read her mind? Is it because she’s not dead yet?” Chen Luo muttered.

He received no answer.

His carefully planned first step—to acquire four types of brains from Demons, Demons, Ghosts, and Spirits—had failed before it even began. How could he tolerate this? Something must have gone wrong; he needed to investigate thoroughly.

Several streaks of black light flashed as the Void Sage and the Wu Dao Peak reinforcements arrived, their faces frozen in disbelief at the scene before them.

Pharmaceutical King Peak lay in ruins.

The Nine Poisons Valley Lord’s self-destruction of his Blood Pill, coupled with the ensuing battle, had left not a single building intact. The landscape was riddled with massive craters formed by the violent collisions of Heaven and Earth Primordial Qi.

Amidst the wreckage, white Bone Patterns shimmered across Chen Luo’s chest and left shoulder, their intricate arrangement forming an arcane and layered design. The sleeves of his green robe had vanished, leaving him in a shoulder-length tunic, while his trousers had been reduced to shorts. A pool of black blood clung to his calf, constantly emitting wisps of white smoke.

It resembled a curse, yet it differed from what they imagined a curse to be.

In his lightning-wreathed right hand, Chen Luo held a severed head that continued to speak. Nearby lay the black qi-shrouded lower half of a corpse. The bizarre scene of a man conversing with a disembodied head left everyone speechless.

“Wasn’t Senior Chen a Sword Cultivator?” Mo Wenjian asked hoarsely, recalling their previous duel where Chen Luo had defeated him with Sword Intent.

“Martial Uncle is a Magic Cultivator,” Ding Xiaoxia countered defensively.

Sword Cultivator?

Magic Cultivator?

“Senior Brother is a talismancer and Pill Refiner,” Huang Ying added, her voice shaken. Her idealized image of her “perfect senior brother” had shattered before her eyes.

“Are you sure he’s not a Body Cultivator?” Bai Su blurted out.

Silence fell as all eyes turned toward Void Sage.