Mutated Demonic Arts!

The pudgy-faced Daoist knew all too well that the lingering toxins in the tomb were still lethally potent, and with time running out, waiting for the poison to dissipate naturally was not an option.

The death of the mid-stage Spirit Convergence cultivator— the woman in the palace robes—meant trouble. As a senior of the second generation in her family, she must have left behind a soul jade slip at Rainmist Manor. Upon her death, that slip would shatter, inevitably alerting the higher-ups of the manor.

"Pharmacists, step forward!"

The pudgy-faced Daoist's eyes flickered coldly as a wave of spiritual pressure radiated from his body, pressing down on the gathered crowd like an invisible mountain. Breathing became difficult for all present. His sharp gaze lingered a little longer on three individuals: Yang Fan, Pharmacist Zheng, and Pharmacist Lin, clearly having made certain deductions.

Pharmacist Zheng smiled bitterly and was the first to step forward, addressing the Daoist, "My granddaughter has only just begun to study the medicinal arts. She is far from qualified."

The pudgy-faced Daoist glanced at Zheng Xiaoman and nodded slightly, but the pressure from his spiritual force did not abate.

Yang Fan could feel the icy glint in the Daoist's piercing gaze and sighed inwardly. It was clear now: cultivators in the Foundation Establishment stage were truly extraordinary, standing atop the three major realms of the path of cultivation.

Pharmacist Lin, the third to step forward, remained expressionless, but he exchanged a brief glance with Yang Fan and Pharmacist Zheng.

"You three—find a way to neutralize the remaining poison in this tomb. I don't have much time left." The Daoist's tone was cold, carrying an unmistakable undercurrent of threat.

Pharmacist Lin glanced at the gloomy tomb ahead and spoke calmly, "With respect, Senior, we were able to sense some of the poisonous mists from the entrance. Even a cultivator at the Spirit Convergence stage would die upon contact, and even those at the Foundation Establishment stage would struggle to withstand it. How could we, mere pharmacists in the Qi Refining stage, possibly handle poison of this level?"

Upon hearing this, both Yang Fan and Pharmacist Zheng nodded repeatedly. After all, a pharmacist's healing or detoxifying abilities were limited by the severity of the ailment or poison. When injuries or toxins were inflicted by high-level cultivators, there was no way a low-level pharmacist could provide treatment. This poison was no exception—it was clearly of a high grade, far beyond their ability to handle.

"Hmph! Are you all seeking death?" 

With a flick of his finger, the pudgy-faced Daoist sent a gray gust of energy, shaped like a finger, directly toward Pharmacist Lin.

"Ahhh!"

Pharmacist Lin screamed as his entire arm began to rot, dark blood oozing from the wound as he collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony.

Crack!

In desperation, he forcefully snapped his own arm off, stopping the spread of the corrosive energy just in time, barely saving his life.

The rest of the cultivators watched in terrified silence.

"Senior, you…!" Chu Qiuran's heart ignited with fury, but she couldn't help speaking out.

"Enough! You three will figure out how to suppress the poison. You don't need to eliminate it completely—just resist it enough for me to proceed."

The Daoist's voice was cold and detached, ignoring Chu Qiuran altogether.

"If you can't even manage that," he added, "then I might as well kill you all and abandon this tomb."

The killing intent in his eyes deepened.

In truth, the Daoist could use the unique nature of his Ghost Corpse Dao techniques to resist the poison for a time. But in his current state, he could only exert power at the peak of the Spirit Convergence stage, making it difficult to contend with the poison for long.

"Let me try…" Yang Fan stepped forward, his face calm. He didn't believe the Daoist would truly abandon this millennia-old tomb.

"Heh, young one, it seems you have some skill. From the way you healed earlier, I can tell you're no novice. If you can give me even a bit of assurance, I'll reward you handsomely," the Daoist said with a sinister smile.

Without a word, Yang Fan tore a piece of cloth from his robes, rolled it into a ball, and tossed it into the tomb.

Moments later, the cloth disintegrated at a visible speed, dissolving into black sludge.

The sight made everyone present gasp in shock.

Yang Fan remained unperturbed. "Although only some residual poison remains, its potency is still formidable. I can only ensure that you'll be immune to about half of its effects."

"What? Half?" The Daoist was incredulous, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Yes, only half. That's the best I can do," Yang Fan replied calmly.

A flicker of impatience crossed the Daoist's face. "Fine, get on with it. If you can truly shield me from half the poison, I'll make sure you're richly rewarded."

Pharmacist Zheng's face lit up with relief at this turn of events.

"Just a moment." Yang Fan retrieved two jade bottles and a small packet of powder from his storage pouch.

"This is an antidote pill. With your cultivation, Senior, you can take five of them at once. This auxiliary pill will boost the antidote's effects. As for the powder, sprinkle it on your body—it will form a protective layer over your skin," Yang Fan explained methodically, handing over the pills and the packet.

The Daoist sniffed the antidote pill and nodded approvingly, but when he examined the auxiliary pill, his brow furrowed. He finally opened the packet of powder, inspecting it closely.

"This auxiliary pill seems suspicious," he said coldly.

Yang Fan replied nonchalantly, "Taken alone, it is indeed a toxin, but not one that could harm a Foundation Establishment cultivator. However, when combined with my special antidote, it greatly enhances the body's resistance to poison."

"Oh? A 'special antidote'? Who taught you such techniques?" The Daoist's suspicion was evident, yet so was his curiosity.

"The one who taught me is a reclusive genius, and I swore an oath never to reveal his name," Yang Fan said smoothly, his heart steady, his mind unruffled, even as he lied to a vastly stronger cultivator.

"Hmph, it seems your background is indeed unusual," the Daoist remarked, finally applying the powder to his clothes and ingesting the antidote and auxiliary pill. 

Yang Fan sensed the Daoist's spiritual consciousness briefly locking onto his heartbeat, blood flow, and even the texture of his skin before he swallowed the pill. The Daoist was still cautious, it seemed.

"You, and you—come with me," the Daoist suddenly commanded, pointing at Yang Fan and Hu Fei.

Yang Fan was momentarily stunned. He had to go in too?

"Senior, that seems unwise. Yang Fan's cultivation is only at the early Qi Refining stage. Entering the tomb would be a death sentence for him," Chu Yuyan interjected.

"Hmph, I make the decisions here. Don't get mouthy, girl, or I'll turn you into a corpse puppet," the Daoist retorted with a cold laugh.

Chu Yuyan shuddered at his words, while Chu Yiyun, standing off to the side, glanced at Yang Fan with a touch of schadenfreude.

Yang Fan nodded silently and handed Hu Fei some of the antidote. He himself also took a dose, albeit with some difficulty.

Seeing this, the Daoist gave a slight nod. "Follow me into the tomb," he commanded.

The three of them proceeded toward the tomb, led by the Daoist. As they entered, the powder on his robes glowed faintly, repelling some of the poison, while the rest was neutralized by a strange warm current within him.

With his Foundation Establishment-level cultivation, the Daoist was able to circulate his energy to further resist the poison. Hu Fei fared similarly. Clearly, there was more to this young man than met the eye.

As for Yang Fan, the Daoist placed his hand on Yang Fan's shoulder, enveloping him in a protective gray aura.

Yang Fan smiled faintly, expressing gratitude. He knew the Daoist wouldn't let him die so easily. A skilled pharmacist was invaluable in a place like this ancient tomb, though the Daoist likely had other plans in mind.

With the Daoist leading the way, the three smoothly entered the tomb and arrived at the entrance of the stone hall.

This time, no armored puppets blocked their path. Still, to be cautious, the Daoist had his Foundation Establishment zombie lead the way.

Zombies, being nearly immune to poison, were ideal for navigating such a dangerous place.

The three of them carefully stepped into the hall and soon saw the headless demon corpse. It wandered aimlessly, moving according to some primal instinct, with no trace of sentience.

"Senior, how can this thousand-year mystic corpse move without a head?" Yang Fan asked curiously. It wasn't often that he had the chance to question a Foundation Establishment cultivator, especially one well-versed in the Ghost Corpse Dao.

"Zombies aren't ordinary beings to begin with, and this one has been corrupted by demonic energy. That alone might explain it. However, there could be other possibilities—perhaps this corpse cultivated demonic arts in life, or it may possess an undying body as described in ancient legends…" the Daoist mused, though he

 didn't seem particularly concerned. He'd seen stranger things in his lifetime.

Upon closer inspection, Yang Fan noticed that the corpse was exuding a faint demonic aura.

This made the Daoist's expression darken slightly.

"Strange, this aura doesn't belong to a cultivator—it's far too sinister. Let's tread carefully. This tomb may hold more surprises," he warned.

The Daoist extended his hand, releasing a stream of cold gray energy that formed into a chain. The chain coiled around the headless corpse, attempting to bind it.

However, before the chain could make contact, the demon corpse suddenly let out a low growl and swung its clawed hand, shattering the chain in one swift motion.

Boom!

The gray chain crumbled into pieces, and the backlash sent a wave of spiritual energy surging back at the Daoist.

"What?! This thing can actually resist me?" The Daoist's face twisted with surprise, and a hint of fear flickered in his eyes.