A Farmer's Journey To Immortality - Chapter 725: A Treasure Hidden in the Purple Poison Marshland

Chapter 725: A Treasure Hidden in the Purple Poison Marshland

Some veteran guild members nodded in approval when they heard the news.

They knew about Aksai’s past clearly as it had become a part of a legend that follows a Lord.

Aksai had once lived in Wuyum County as a poor Spirit farmer, renting a small farmhouse and barely getting by.

Later, he had been forced to flee when the county fell into chaos after the Lakir Clan’s defiance against the Rokur Kingdom and, by extension, the Purple River Sect.

“To build his guild base there now…. Do you even understand what it means?” one old cultivator asked and laughed out loud before continuing.

“Hahaha. You young guns know nothing. That is returning to one’s roots. Our Lord is clearly being nostalgic. I remember Lakir Clan’s desperate struggle against the forces of the Purple River Sect. The entire county was painted red in blood at that time.

“There were flying Bloodfiends everywhere. The Purple River Sect disciples and the Lakir clan members were busy killing each other and low level Spirit cultivators like us were collateral from both sides.

“I don’t know how Lord Aksai survived that period. I was just a small child back then. I… I could have never imagined that the same county would welcome someone like Lord Aksai once again.”

To most who knew of Aksai’s background, the relocation of the guild was a sign of confidence. Aksai was no longer the weak rental Spirit farmer who had to run. He was a Lord now, powerful enough to plant his flag in a troubled land and reshape it.

But not all voices were kind.

In dark corners of tea houses and quiet docks, nasty rumors began to spread. No one knew where they came from, but they moved fast.

“They say there was an attempt on his life,” some whispered. “An assassin entered his palace.”

Others lowered their voices even more. “They say he was scared. That’s why he moved the guild. He didn’t feel safe on the island anymore. Hehehe. He isn’t called Turtle Lord for nothing.”

These rumors had no proof, yet they found eager ears. Fear and doubt always traveled faster than truth.

By nightfall, Emerald Cove was buzzing with talk. Shock, praise, confusion, and suspicion mixed together, creating a restless mood across the island.

***

A few days later.

Dadangar Subcontinent. Mainland.

Between Rokur and Yidia Kingdoms. Purple Poison Marshland.

A green-purple fog floated close to the ground within this region, moving slowly like a living thing. It burned the nose and throat of anyone who breathed it in for too long.

This was poison miasma.

At the edge of the marshland stood a large array formation. Faint lines of light rose from the ground and formed a wide barrier that blocked the most potent poisonous fog from spreading further.

The Iron Mountain Sect had set up this formation years ago, and now its members were forced to guard it day and night. The array also seemed to have some other uses as well. However, most disciples and even sect elders weren’t privy to the knowledge.

Elders and disciples stood on watch in shifts. It was a joint mission among the elders and disciples. Even the elders looked tired.

Their faces were pale, and their breathing was uneven. Beads of sweat rolled down their foreheads as they poured Spirit energy into the array to keep it stable. The poison in the air weakened their bodies and slowed their Spirit circulation, making every action feel heavy.

The demon beasts of the marshland were far worse.

These beasts had lived in the poison for generations. Their bodies were twisted and swollen, covered in dark scales, hard shells, or rotting flesh. Some had extra limbs. Others had glowing eyes filled with madness. Poison energy leaked from their bodies with every breath.

A massive swamp lizard slammed its body against the array barrier. The light rippled violently, and several disciples nearby staggered back.

“Hold the line!” an elder shouted hoarsely.

The disciples gritted their teeth and pushed their Spirit power forward. Their hands shook as they maintained their positions. For them, this was not a battle of strength alone. It was a battle of endurance.

The poison miasma seeped into their bodies no matter how careful they were.

From time to time, sect members pulled out small bundles of Spirit grass. The leaves were pale blue with thin silver lines running through them. Without hesitation, they chewed the grass or brewed it into quick drinks.

This Spirit grass was very useful for this particular mission. It was said that a certain young elder of the sect came up with the idea of using this particular Spirit grass. Even though he had made a huge contribution, this elder decided to remain low-key. As such, almost nobody knew him but everyone thanked them in their heart.

It was said that this particular elder who found the remedy had improved his cultivation leaps and bounds after receiving the sect’s preferential treatment thanks to his contributions.

Although those who knew him complained that he had been turned into something like a “puppet” and had a change of behaviour, the sect elder in question ignored his criticisms and focused on climbing up the ladders within the sect. He had finally become a grand elder of the sect. He was currently inside the formation, doing an important task for the sect.

Coming back to outside the formation, the bitter taste filled the sect members’ mouths, but the effect was immediate.

The burning in their lungs eased. The fog in their minds cleared slightly. The Spirit grass helped curb the poison’s effects, but it was only a temporary fix. The elders warned everyone not to rely on it too much.

Another roar echoed from the marsh.

A group of mutated demon wolves charged forward, their claws black with poison. As they struck the array, cracks of light spread across the barrier like spider webs.

The elders stepped forward, weapons in hand.

Even they struggled.

Their attacks were slower than usual, and their Spirit spells lacked their normal force. Poison weakened their bodies, while the demon beasts grew stronger the longer they stayed in this land.

Still, no one retreated.

The Iron Mountain Sect had been given this task, and failure was not an option. If the array fell, the poison marshland would spread, and countless lives would be lost.

The array barrier trembled again.

Cracks of light spread across its surface as several demon beasts crashed into it at the same time. A thick poison fog rushed forward, pressing against the formation like a rising tide. The disciples’ faces turned pale. Some of them stumbled, barely keeping their footing.

An elder coughed hard and wiped dark blood from the corner of his mouth.

“We won’t last much longer,” someone whispered in fear.

Just as despair began to take hold, a loud and carefree laugh echoed from inside the formation.

“Hahahaha!”

The sound was deep and full of strength. It cut through the roars of the demon beasts and the howling wind of the marshland. In the very next moment, the array formation shattered like thin glass.

Light scattered into the air and faded.

Before the sect members could react, an overwhelming aura surged out from the space where the formation had once stood. It spread like a heavy wave, pressing down on everything around it.

The disciples froze.

Their knees weakened, and their hearts pounded wildly. Many of them turned around at the same time, staring in shock at the empty space behind them.

The demon beasts reacted even faster.

The mutated wolves, lizards, and insects let out frightened cries. Their bodies trembled as if facing a natural enemy. Without hesitation, they turned around and fled deeper into the marshland, disappearing into the poison fog. None of them dared to come close again.

The oppressive aura remained.

Then a voice spoke from the depths of the place where the formation had been.

“Hahahaha. Finally! After nearly four decades, I finally managed to unseal the entrance.”

The voice carried clear joy and relief, mixed with great power.

“Disciples of the Iron Mountain Sect,” the voice continued calmly, “your job is done. You can leave at once and rest at the sect.”

The disciples exchanged looks and bowed deeply toward the voice. Relief washed over their faces.

“Sect elders,” the voice went on, “you may approach if you are fit enough. If you feel you cannot endure it, do not force yourselves and leave.”

There was a short pause before the voice added in a serious tone, “Even though I managed to unseal the entrance, I cannot do anything about the poison miasma for now. It only grows stronger the closer you get to the entrance.”

The meaning was clear.

Several elders took a step forward, their expressions firm. Others hesitated, then shook their heads and motioned for the disciples to retreat.

Following the command, the disciples began to move away in an orderly manner. They supported the injured and helped each other through the fog. None of them dared to look back again.

The elders who stayed behind tightened their grips on their weapons and Spirit tools. Slowly, they moved toward the unsealed entrance, bracing themselves as the poison miasma thickened with every step.

What the sect members didn’t know at the time was that a certain Lord was keeping tabs on this progress from a safe place. His spies had already infiltrated the Iron Mountain Sect long ago for this very moment.

“The entrance opened? The Core of a Fallen Dao Beast, huh? Let me see what it’s all about,” Aksai murmured to himself as he watched the retreating figures of the Iron Mountain Sect members in silence.

In the next moment, his appearance dissolved into the tree behind him.

===

AN: The core of a fallen Dao Beast was first mentioned in Chapter 551.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com