Shang Yanting paused, and upon hearing the sound behind him, resolutely leaped into the air.

A feeling of weightlessness enveloped him as the long tail of the female snake above lashed down, grazing Shang Yanting's cheek and leaving a bloody mark. Immediately afterward, a furious roar erupted from those who had failed to catch him.

Bang--

He fell heavily to the ground.

The environment was cold and dark, carrying a musty smell that had been sealed for many years.

Looking up, it was too dark to see the narrow entrance to the cave, and nothing could be seen inside either. Just then, an old voice rang out.

"Young man, why have you come here?"

"Who are you."

"who I am?"

The aged voice suddenly laughed, then said slowly and heavily, "So many years have passed, and now no one even knows my Banqi anymore."

Shang Yanting did not answer, but the old voice continued to speak to itself, "Back then, I was a half-step saint, enjoying boundless glory. How could I have imagined that I would end up in this state, with only a wisp of my soul left?"

These are familiar lines.

As the saying goes, "A fall into a pit, a gain in your wit."

Ever since encountering that rogue cultivator's soul in the underground palace, Shang Yanting has kept his distance from it.

But the other party didn't seem to want to let him go so easily.

"I have waited so long, and finally someone has broken through to the seventh level. It can be said that there is a successor. Young man, kneel down and kowtow three times, and I will pass on my years of cultivation to you."

How familiar that rhetoric is!

Shang Yanting subtly adopted a defensive stance. "Thank you, senior, but it's not necessary."

The spirit was stunned; he couldn't understand why the other party wouldn't accept such a windfall.

If we go back a hundred years, you couldn't have gotten him even if you begged him. Unfortunately, now his only remaining soul is about to dissipate, and whether he stays or goes is not up to him!

Suddenly a white light appeared, and an old man with completely white hair appeared. He put two fingers together and pointed at Shang Yanting's brow with immense power.

Crimson magic surged within his body.

Within Shang Yanting's body, spiritual power and demonic power intertwined, as incompatible as water and fire.

"Tsk tsk tsk, why bother with martial arts?"

The old man's disdainful voice rang out, "Such a promising seedling should cultivate demonic arts. Watch me purify your spiritual energy and make you a righteous and upright demonic cultivator!"

As magic power continued to flow in, his spiritual energy was gradually devoured by the vast magical power, and his cultivation level steadily declined. Martial Spirit—Martial Master—Martial Realm… until his cultivation was completely depleted.

Then, magic took over his body.

Demon Disciple, Demonist, Demon Master, Demon Spirit, Demon Sect!

In an instant, the magic power within his body broke through the Grandmaster level, and only slowly stopped when it rose to the mid-stage of the Demonic Sect.

The Demonic Sect is comparable to the Martial Sect in terms of strength!

Shang Yanting was shocked, while the old man opposite him seemed somewhat regretful, "He only has the strength of a Demonic Sect Master. Young man, if you had come a hundred years earlier, you could have broken through to the Demon King level by now!"

His phantom gradually became transparent after his magic was used up. "Now I don't ask you to become my disciple, but since you have received my kindness, you must repay it. I want you to kill every single person with the surname Wanqi you encounter in the future!"

After saying this, he completely vanished, and the surroundings returned to complete darkness.

Wanqi.

Throughout the entire Dongxu Kingdom, there is no such surname.

Shang Yanting clenched his fists, feeling an unprecedented abundance of internal energy.

"Thank you, senior. If I ever meet someone with that surname again, I will certainly keep my promise."

He looked towards the spot where the old man had disappeared, bowed slightly towards the void, and solemnly replied. Immediately afterward, the surrounding soil crumbled and fell, making a rustling sound.

Shang Yanting originally thought it was going to collapse, but it turned out to be just a layer of soil falling off the wall.

In the darkness, the martial arts moves drawn on the wall with luminescent paint were extremely clear.

Based on the markings, he could tell that one was the Myriad Demons Seal and the other was the Withered Zen Slash.

Magic power is here, and so are magical abilities!

Shang Yanting pursed his lips slightly. Could it be that fate was decreing that he should cultivate demonic arts?

He opened his palms and gently stroked her in his arms.

This was a gesture he often made when he was thinking, but this time he missed.

Thinking of the lifeless puppet within the talisman, his eyelids drooped slightly.

A moment later, the sound of martial arts practice echoed in the empty cave.

Both the Myriad Demon Seal and the Withered Zen Slash are extremely strange techniques.

The Myriad Demon Seal, formed in the palm, was unleashed, and after the attack, it was as if thousands of vengeful ghosts were howling with endless resentment.

With a single strike, Shang Yanting transformed his demonic power into sharp blades, using only three-tenths of his strength, and the cave began to shake.

Very strong.

However, on the continent of Aotian, demonic cultivators are cultivators whom everyone fears, dreads, and wishes to kill as soon as possible.

If he were to go out like that, he would surely be attacked by the crowd.

He wanted the aristocratic families to be utterly destroyed!

A bold idea arose in his mind: Why can't magic and spiritual power be cultivated together?

Once the idea emerged, it continued to take root and sprout.

Aside from practicing the two major moves, Shang Yanting spent the rest of his time trying to cultivate spiritual power.

Spiritual energy was constantly being gathered, only to be devoured and dissipated by demonic energy. The body ached constantly from this internal struggle between the two, feeling as if it were being gnawed at.

He made an extremely bold move—he changed the cultivation method!

Having read countless cultivation manuals in the library, he was already a highly authoritative expert. All cultivation methods, no matter how varied, share the same fundamental principles and are supported by the most basic breathing and meditation techniques.

The evolution of techniques is nothing more than adding bricks and tiles to the foundation and making decorations.

Moreover, none of these cultivation techniques appeared out of thin air!

Shang Yanting's method can no longer be called an improvement; it is entirely his own creation!

His body was the place where he conducted his experiments.

No, change it!

No, change it again!

No, it needs to be changed!

His once tall and slender body was riddled with holes from the trials. His body was merely a shell to house his soul; everything else was an external object, useful or useless, on his path to becoming stronger.

He was all alone in the darkness.

Unaware of the passage of time, this place is eerily quiet and desolate.

Shang Yanting sat alone in the center, the stench of blood permeating the air.

Finally, he figured it out!

The improved cultivation method, based on the Cultivation Source Technique, circulated slowly within his body. Its speed was almost stagnant compared to the surging, vast magical power within him, yet it was slowly accumulating.

Shang Yanting is undoubtedly a genius, being the first person in the Aotian Continent to cultivate both magic and martial arts!

He cultivated underground, oblivious to the passage of time.

However, thirty days are almost up.

Jia Xitong was completely unconscious after her spiritual energy was drained. It wasn't until her soul was gradually nurtured that she slowly regained consciousness in the last few days of the countdown.

She was soaking in a pool of water, feeling as comfortable as if she were in the womb.

Jia Xitong swam very fast inside, doing breaststroke, butterfly stroke, tadpole stroke, and so on, yet never reaching the boundary.

"System, am I really not going to give birth?"

Jia Xitong asked with some doubt.

If she could be reborn as a child, she really wished she were Shang Yanting's child. That way, she would be a winner in life, and no one would be as lucky as her to be born into such a family!