Cultivating Poison Arts

"What an overpowering demonic art..." 

Yang Fan was filled with dread, his gaze fixed on the black book with a deep sense of unease. 

Just moments earlier, his consciousness had ventured into the first page of the book, only to be overwhelmed by the domineering power of the incantation and the seemingly boundless darkness within. Inside that first page lay an abyss-like void, where black flames and arcane runes danced in the shadows, revealing the profound mysteries of a formidable demonic cultivation technique. Yang Fan had only barely begun to grasp the essence of this demonic art. 

The technique was tyrannical, designed to benefit its user at the expense of others. When cultivated to its peak, it promised near invincibility, yet the manuscript he held was only the first volume. Two more volumes existed somewhere in the world, their locations unknown. 

After a long while, Yang Fan gingerly picked up the black tome—**The Nine Nether Demonic Codex**—and placed it back into his storage pouch. However, even then, he felt uneasy. He quickly retrieved it once more and stored it within the vault of his **Xianhong Space**, far from his immediate reach. 

"This demonic technique is at least of a high-tier caliber," he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with caution. "It's imbued with overwhelming power and ruthlessness. If a demonic cultivator finds out I possess it, it could bring endless trouble." 

Yang Fan remained on high alert, contemplating how this forbidden technique had ended up in such a desolate place, sealed within the body of a venomous serpent. What secrets lay hidden behind this strange coincidence? 

For twelve long years, Yang Fan had secluded himself in the confines of **Yang Fortress**, focused solely on cultivation. The wider world of cultivation remained largely a mystery to him, and the inner workings of demonic sects were even further beyond his grasp. Now, in his hands, he held a formidable demonic technique, but its origins eluded him. 

After resting briefly in the serpent's cave, Yang Fan's energy returned to its peak. He resolved to find a more secluded location where he could hide and lie low for some time before figuring out how to leave this perilous region. 

Cautiously stepping out of the cave, Yang Fan activated his **All-Knowing Mode**, gaining a heightened awareness of his surroundings. He weaved through the rugged terrain, avoiding encounters with several low-level beasts. 

Before long, the terrain opened up ahead, and in the distance, he spotted the outline of a dark forest. His heart leapt with excitement. Hastening his pace, he made his way toward the shadowy woods. 

The forest stretched for dozens of miles, its vastness obscured by jagged rocks, rivers, waterfalls, and small lakes. Such a complex environment was perfect for Yang Fan to hide in, making it difficult for anyone to track him down. 

Upon reaching the riverbank, he once again activated **All-Knowing Mode**, sensing the fish swimming in the water and a few low-level beasts nearby. Summoning his **Azure Edge Sword**, he took to the skies, flying low over the river to avoid any creatures lurking within the water. 

Once across, Yang Fan swiftly recalled his sword, knowing that flying with a magical weapon consumed energy and, worse, made him more visible to potential enemies. He then trekked deeper into the forest, though not too far, as a nagging unease tugged at him. 

"This place feels... strange," he muttered. Ever since obtaining the **Nine Nether Demonic Codex**, Yang Fan had sensed something unusual about this region. The depths of the forest likely harbored some forbidden existence, so he chose to settle on the edge of the woods, where he set up wards around him before sitting cross-legged to cultivate. 

First, Yang Fan focused on practicing the **Breathing Techniques** from the **Qi Refining Section**, allowing the life essence within him to cycle endlessly, linking him to the surrounding environment in mysterious ways. This form of cultivation progressed slowly, but Yang Fan sought to comprehend its deeper truths rather than rush forward. 

After spending a few days in quiet contemplation, Yang Fan moved on to refining spells from the **Holy Healing Chapter**, including the **Withered Wood Spell**, **Rain Dew Art**, **Jade Bone Art**, **Shape-Shifting Technique**, **Concealment Art**, **Return Spirit Technique**, and **Poison Expelling Technique**. Each of these spells lacked any offensive capability, but to his surprise, Yang Fan mastered them with ease. 

However, spells from the **Path of Unorthodoxy** felt distinctly unnatural, despite their foundational connection to the **Xianhong Technique**. Practicing them was like trying to run backward after years of running forward. Though Yang Fan could grasp them, the techniques felt awkward and counterintuitive. 

Over two or three days, Yang Fan honed his proficiency in these spells. While his understanding deepened, his mastery remained surface-level, lacking the profound insight required for true expertise. 

Eventually, the quiet solitude of the forest began to gnaw at his stomach, and Yang Fan realized he hadn't eaten in nearly five days. Even so, he barely felt hunger—a feat that would surpass most **Qi Refining** or **Condensing Spirit** cultivators. Only those in the **Foundation Establishment** stage could last so long without food. Curious, Yang Fan decided to see how much longer he could endure without sustenance and resumed his cultivation. 

This time, he turned his attention to one of the **Poison Arts** from the **Path of Unorthodoxy**—the infamous **Desolation of a Thousand Miles**. This spell was designed to drain all life from the surrounding area, leaving death and desolation in its wake. 

After one or two days of practice, Yang Fan found himself facing significant resistance. It felt as though his cultivation was reversing. Normally, his technique allowed him to cast healing spells like **Rain Dew**, but now, when reversed, it manifested as this deadly, life-extinguishing poison art. 

Seven days passed, and Yang Fan had barely scratched the surface of the **Desolation of a Thousand Miles** technique. Yet even at this nascent stage, its effects were apparent—the trees within a radius of ten feet around him withered and died. 

This poison art, when fully mastered, could annihilate all life in its path. Whether human, beast, or plant, nothing would survive its reach. Yang Fan's initial attempts, though rudimentary, had already created a dead zone around him. The trees lay shriveled, the soil parched, and even the smallest creatures had vanished, leaving nothing but death in his immediate surroundings. 

"Incredible..." Yang Fan marveled. "Though it's still not powerful enough to threaten cultivators, the potential is clear. But… practicing this poison art feels so unnatural. It's like swimming against the current." 

A mixture of joy and frustration filled him. 

Just then, his stomach growled audibly. Yang Fan chuckled—it had been half a month since he last ate. For a **Qi Refining** cultivator, this was remarkable endurance. Only those at the **Foundation Establishment** stage could achieve such feats of fasting. 

"Enough! Half a month… surely the Yang family from the capital has long since given up searching for me." 

Stretching, Yang Fan stood and walked to the riverbank. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the **Azure Edge Sword**. 

"Go!" 

The sword shot into the water, stirring up the river. Moments later, it returned, impaling a two-pound fish and a few shrimp on its blade. Yang Fan smiled, his spirits lifted. 

"Perfect…" 

Feeling confident that the search for him had ended, he set up a small fire by the river, cooking the fish, shrimp, and some of the serpent meat he had salvaged earlier into a hearty meal. 

"Hmm… this serpent meat is tender, with a surprising warmth to it." 

Unbeknownst to Yang Fan, that warmth was a subtle trace of venom. Of course, with his unique constitution, the poison had no effect on him—if anything, it added to the flavor. 

But suddenly, he sensed movement in the distant mountains. Squinting, Yang Fan spotted faint figures flying through the air. 

"Is that…?" 

His eyes narrowed. Were those figures from the **Yang Family** of the capital? 

A grim expression settled over Yang Fan's face.