Nine Venoms Sect Founder - Chapter 151: Irresistible Blight

Glued on Golden Cicada’s execution of the Genesis Palm, Harun didn’t pay much attention to the following events. More precisely, as he’d already guessed that the Holy One and her partner were likely a pair of Golden Nymphs awaiting reunification, he’d seen all this coming.

Granted, the news carried disturbing implications on his existence, Harun didn’t care. On the contrary, the more time he spent in this illusory world, the less sensible he became of his surroundings. It was almost as if someone, something pulled at his emotional spectrum, making it less diverse. “Odd. Am I becoming a simpler lifeform? Did I fail?” Harun asked himself, thereby questioning his Unyielding Tribulation’s results.

Golden Cicada split the Six Incarnation Bridge into two distinct paths: Severing and Unyielding. Severing cultivators pursued the Perfect Peace. A state granting them immunity to Karmic Links, freedom from suffering, desires, or even their sense of self—if they so wished. On the contrary, Unyielding cultivators demanded sovereignty over it all—often becoming emotional roller coasters. In a sense, both paths took extreme approaches. But for Golden Cicada who needed to free himself from the Omniverse’s Will, extremism was the only choice.

Be that as it may, as an Unyielding cultivator, Harun’s current condition was a clear sign of failure—yet even that didn’t bother him. Strangely, this detachment from mortal emotions and desires filled Harun with a new sense of peace. It was almost as if he was looking at himself through a truth mirror, able to appraise his qualities and flaws with an entirely objective outlook—a fascinating sensation. And if the Right of Tyranny could protect Harun’s soul from outer manipulations, it couldn’t prevent changes kick-started by his own failings. Worst case scenario, Harun would lose the Right as well.

Not caring for the implications, Harun meditated on Golden Cicada’s abilities. Having witnessed firsthand how his past self used a gentle version of the Genesis Palm against Nakula, Harun resolved to master it. But while the 15 years in the Birusk clan enabled him to comprehend most of it, Harun could never reach true success. The reason was simple, the complete Genesis Palm required Golden Cicada’s omnipotent mastery of energy. Without, it was as dangerous to the caster as it was to the victim. Thus, while it undeniably was Harun’s strongest skill, even in extreme circumstances such as the Divine Soul Cauldron fight or Weeping Soul’s last gift, he didn’t dare unleash it. And while Harun considered ways to reduce the risks, clouds of dark fogs rose all around him, attempting to consume what remained of his identity.

Instantly, a column of rainbow light dropped from the sky, blasting the corruption out of Harun’s way. Slit, serpentine eyes appeared in the light column, and while its master still pondered on Golden Cicada’s move, the Serpent Totem emerged, slithering toward Harun.

“Master, for someone that almost lost his individuality, you seem oddly at ease,” the totem started, engaging Harun for the first time since its birth. Unlike Gulseni and co. Harun was well aware of his totem’s speech ability. Regardless, hearing that hoarse, polite yet aloof voice disturbed him somewhat.

“Obviously, from the moment the meteor struck me down, I’ve been suffering from cultivation deviation. If someone or something hadn’t been watching over me, let’s not even mention taking a trip down memory lane, I’d be long gone. Since I know that my guardian will shelter me of all those pesky troubles, why bother?” In nearly 200 years of existence, Harun had never felt more logical. The answers to all the problems he faced seemed as clear daylight. There was no room for hesitation, and even though he sometimes wondered if he’d achieved perfection, his logical mind kept him sober.

“What a welcome surprise. I must admit that I didn’t see this coming. All along I’d been worried that you’d go down your past self’s road—allowing emotions and humanity to make you weak and irrational. This must be what they call a blessing in disguise. And yet…” the Serpent Totem paused, tilted his head leftward, and with a lopsided stare, added, “I can’t help but dislike a you that is not really you. Conflicting…but at least it will allow us to discuss the ongoing situation from a rational point of view.”

Opening its daunting maw, the Serpent Totem conjured a purple orb that rose above Harun, depicting images of the war ravaging the Second Range. In that orb, Harun saw rows of mutants assemble in mighty legions and merging to become colossal abominations that clashed with one androgynous youth: Xerzhan. The image changed, now taking Harun to the grand abominations’ insides, where dark-green worms sang eldritch hymns, revolving around superior specimen as they guided the combined mutants’ fight.

“A plaguebringer version of Akanista’s Salvation Worms. You did this?” Recognizing the worms’ nature, Harun probed, and without hesitation, the serpent nodded in approval. “Indeed. Your breakthrough is only half-failed. Said otherwise, you succeeded, but took so much damage that you deviated from the proper breakthrough path. Together, we can fix that. What we cannot change, however, is the aftermath of your victory.” As it spoke, the totem’s voice grew graver, and even before it finished, Harun knew what it meant to say.

“Weeping Soul, Xerzan, and the Truth Scrying Grotto?” Another probe, another success.

“Correct. The Reverend died because of you. Considering what we’ve learned from that fallen elder’s soul, even if Nakula and the Truth Scrying Grotto don’t react, Xerzhan will. No matter how prodigious you might be, there is no way for you to defeat that man. This projection is the best example. When a pack of Plague Worshipping Mutants unite as one abomination, they can match an Empyrean Monarch. Yet, several packs working together is barely enough to contend with Xerzhan. Even in the Ancestral Land, such a talent is hard to come by.

Head on we stand no chance. Foreseeing this, I used Akanista’s formula, adjusted it to your noxious arts, and unleashed a salvation plague on the First Range. As we speak, billions of mutants have taken over the Second Range. Organized in packs and hordes, they will keep growing and multiplying, produce resources to further enhance their forces, and become the new Holy Land. Gods, Monsters and Seers do not understand what they face. By the time the Holy Lands dispatch the first Emperor-level expert, it will be too late.

Xerzhan knows that if he ignores them, the Third Range’s cultivation world will perish within days. To preserve his work and plans, he doesn’t have a choice. Of course, stopping him is only one of many reasons. Regardless of what they become, the mutants will always see you as their lord. My objective is to use this force to exterminate our lesser opponents, put down the sects, turn all Gods into cultivation resources, restrain the Holy Lands, and pave the way for your faction’s conquest of this world,” the Serpent Totem explained, studying Harun to spot any dissatisfaction.

The scene was oddly similar to Golden Cicada and Akinista’s confrontation. But if before the totem didn’t doubt that Harun would disapprove, the current him likely had a different vision. None could tell how long this version of Harun would persist, but regardless of his choice, the die was cast.

If the creation of Salvation Worms followed a rather straightforward formula, their destruction demanded powers that Harun, or any expert of the Mountain Edge World for that matter, didn’t possess.

None could stop the Plague Worshipping Cult from establishing itself as…the sixth Holy Land.