Nine Transformations of the True Spirit.

On the vast, frozen lake, wolves are chasing a herd of deer, trying to drive them into the pine forest.

Thick snow lay flat on the solid ice, but the strong deer herd dared not fight the demon wolves. Instead, they protected the half-grown fawns in the middle and fled into the dense forest along several solid snow paths trodden out by their leader.

The dark gray wolves followed the deer herd at a leisurely pace, spreading out as if they were playing with the deer.

A strange light swirled in their fluffy fur, flowing into their sharp claws and turning them a chilling gray, like a razor-sharp dagger. One swipe and flesh would fly everywhere.

Wang Ping hid behind a tall cedar tree in the distance, cautiously peeking out to observe the spectacular scene of the wolf pack hunting through the swirling snow dust.

Although these Bladeclaw Wolves are only mid-level level one demonic beasts, they are extremely sensitive to divine sense and are also extremely united and cunning.

Dozens of Bladeclaw Wolves gathered together. Even though Wang Ping had the cultivation level of the sixth level of Qi Refining and could kill most mid-level level one demonic beasts, he did not dare to reveal his presence to them casually.

Wang Ping was an ordinary rogue cultivator in Ping Shuang City, a hundred miles away. His five spiritual roots only allowed him to barely embark on the path of cultivation.

He had to put in ten or a hundred times more effort than other cultivators to barely advance one level in cultivation. It took him more than thirty years of arduous cultivation to finally reach the bottleneck of the late stage of Qi Refining.

But Wang Ping was already quite satisfied. Ping Shuang City was just a small mortal city in Shenzhou, with no spiritual veins, no spiritual mines or lands around it, and not even many independent cultivators.

Only a Foundation Establishment cultivator from the Twin Deer Sect, along with several Qi Refining cultivators, were stationed in the city to protect the 100,000 mortals within.

Fortunately, Ping Shuang City has never experienced a beast tide in all these years, otherwise Wang Ping would have doubted whether that Master Yue would have bravely fought against the monsters or simply fled.

No cultivator wanted to stay in such a spiritually barren mortal city, but the Fatian Pavilion cared for mortals and strictly ordered all sects in the spirit realm to send cultivators to guard mortal cities to prevent them from being attacked by demonic beasts. If a cold wave or blizzard came, they were also required to use magic to resist the natural disaster.

In the eyes of mortals, the Heaven-Slaying Pavilion is filled with saviors of the gods and immortals, but after cultivating for so many years, Wang Ping has slowly begun to have some doubts.

If the powerful figures of the Heaven-Slaying Pavilion truly cared for mortals, why didn't they simply wipe out these demonic beasts?
"Father, those white-tailed deer have all been driven into the forest. When are we going to make our move?"

An urgent voice interrupted Wang Ping's thoughts. Behind the tall pine tree, he wasn't alone; there was also a young boy, clutching a sword tightly, staring at him expectantly.

Wang Ping looked at the boy with a hint of affection in his eyes and said in a low voice, "Don't rush. Bladeclaw wolves are very cunning. Although this group of white-tailed deer is a bit weak, a thousand of them gathered together should not be underestimated when they charge."

"The Bladeclaw Wolf won't attack head-on. It will chase after the White-tailed Deer for a while to wear down its demonic power before it can truly begin its hunt."

"Let's wait until they run a little further away, then follow the path they've taken, and make our move when the Bladeclaw Wolf and the White-tailed Deer are both badly injured."

"Stay behind your father and take advantage of the chaos to cut off as many deer antlers and wolf claws as possible."

"Oh..." The boy's eyes showed a hint of disappointment as he put the longsword back into his storage bag.

He only wanted to have a great battle with the demonic beasts, to unleash all the martial arts and magic he had painstakingly practiced for eight years, and to kill a few demonic beasts to his heart's content, rather than continuing the pursuit.

The boy and his father had been away from Ping Shuang City for seven days, but they had only been trekking through the snowfields and pine forests, and had not yet made a single move. He was already tired of this tedious tracking.

Seeing the boy's eyes, Wang Ping guessed what he was thinking, smiled, and then thought of his own youth.

When he first entered the snowfield to hunt monsters, he was just as excited as the boy, wanting only to have a good slaughter, cut down monster materials, and then go to Shuanglu Market to buy the best pills under the respectful gaze of the pill shop owner.

"Ning'er, you must remember that you can't rush when hunting demonic beasts. Although they don't have magic weapons, their bodies are strong and they have innate supernatural abilities that are more powerful than the spells you cultivate. You must be careful and find the best opportunity to kill them with one blow."

“I understand, Father.”

The boy agreed, but the perfunctory tone in his voice was impossible to hide.

Wang Ping wasn't annoyed. This was the boy's first time hunting demons, and he would never truly understand the meaning of those words without experiencing a real battle.

That's why, even though he could have hunted a more valuable level-one high-level demonic beast, he trekked through the snowfield for seven days before finally choosing this pack of Bladeclaw Wolves and White-tailed Deer.

These two types of monsters may seem numerous, but Wang Ping can handle them with ease.

However, if it were to deal with a high-level level one demonic beast, even just one, he could not guarantee the boy's safety.

In the world of cultivation, cultivation level determines everything, especially in the wild snowfields.

Wang Ping dared not take any risks. His five spiritual roots made his path of cultivation extremely difficult. He could see the end of his path at a glance, and even if he tried his best, he could only reach the late stage of Qi Refining. Foundation Establishment was out of the question.

But the boy is different. He has the aptitude of four spiritual roots and is already qualified to join a small sect like the Twin Deer Sect. If he works hard to cultivate in the future, he has a great chance of reaching the Foundation Establishment stage.

But Wang Ping didn't intend for the boy to take this path. He had suffered enough because of his lack of talent, and he could never have enough pills and spirit stones. He could only watch as other cultivators left him far behind. He didn't want the boy to experience the same bitterness.

He wanted to send the boy to a larger sect, or at least a medium-sized sect, preferably the Tianman Sect.

However, major sects have much stricter requirements for selecting disciples. Those with four spiritual roots can only serve as nominal disciples, and only after reaching the Foundation Establishment stage will they have the opportunity to truly join the sect.

Therefore, Wang Ping wanted to do everything he could to pave the way for the young man. He had been at the sixth level of Qi Refining for four years, and he used all the spirit stones he had saved to buy pills for the young man. He also wanted to teach the young man all the demon-hunting experience he had accumulated over the past thirty years.

Fortunately, the young man is also very promising. He started cultivating eight years ago and now has the cultivation level of the third level of Qi Refining. He also practices martial arts and magic diligently and tirelessly, surpassing Wang Ping in his prime.

But even the best sword needs to draw blood to reveal its sharpness. Only by experiencing real battles can the young man break through this bottleneck and advance to the mid-stage of Qi Refining.

There are no shortcuts in this step, and Wang Ping must be extremely careful.

Those in the early stages of Qi Refining cannot be considered true cultivators, as their spells are not powerful enough. They can only rely on mortal martial arts to enhance their strength.

However, cultivators of magic are not cultivators of the body, and the risks of close combat with demonic beasts are extremely high.

Wang Ping had no other choice back then; every time he hunted a demon, it was a near-death experience, yet he was unwilling to let the young man take the risk.

But he also knew that this was only a temporary measure. The young man would eventually have to face the cruel world of cultivation alone, and all he could do was try to postpone that day as much as possible.

Wang Ping sighed inwardly, watching the white-tailed deer and blade-clawed wolves rush into the forest in the distance, and finally led the boy to follow.

The two used their lightness skills, and with a light step, they ran several feet away, leaving only a shallow mark on the snow, surpassing even the strongest lightness skills in the mortal world.

The pine forest was covered with a thick layer of snow, with icicles hanging down, and it was completely silent. The ground was covered with messy deer hoof and wolf claw marks, stretching into the distance.

Wang Ping and the boy were finally able to unleash their divine senses, and with their keen senses, they could detect any movement even in the dim forest.

Wang Ping patiently controlled the speed. The boy's eyes were eager, but he could only obediently follow behind Wang Ping.

The two ran for over a hundred miles, taking three hours. The tracks on the snow became increasingly fresh, and a pack of wolves and a herd of deer were not far ahead.

Wang Ping slowed his pace, whispered to the boy to withdraw his divine sense, carefully conceal his figure, and slowly move forward.

Both he and the boy were dressed in snow-white, close-fitting outfits, with a thin layer of snow bear fur underneath. This fur came from a high-level level one snow bear that Wang Ping had personally hunted. It was impervious to the cold in the icy wilderness and could also conceal their aura to the greatest extent possible.

Although it cannot be considered a magical artifact, it would be a treasure that could be passed down for generations if it were in the hands of an ordinary person.

For independent cultivators, every wisp of magical power is incredibly precious and cannot be easily wasted on keeping warm.

Where magical power can be used, magical power will never be used.

As the two moved forward, the tracks on the ground became increasingly messy. Hot blood containing demonic power flowed into the snow, carving out holes. Gray and white fur was wrapped around sharp thorns.

The wolves and deer had already begun fighting, but no bodies had been left yet.

Monsters have a much stronger life force than wild animals. Even though the Bladeclaw Wolf is stronger, it is not so easy for it to kill a White-tailed Deer.

Wang Ping had just turned past an ancient pine tree that was over ten feet thick when he suddenly stopped.

The boy followed a few feet behind him, and was puzzled. It was quiet ahead, so why did his father stop?
He lightly touched the ground and arrived beside Wang Ping. His gaze passed over the ancient pine tree and looked ahead, where he froze in place.

The ground was littered with the corpses of Bladeclaw Wolves and White-tailed Deer, each with only a wound on its neck from which demonic blood gushed out, melting the ice and snow and staining the ground with an eerie dark red.

A huge, ferocious bird, with two horns on its head and thick claws deeply embedded in the ground, was lurking among the carcasses. It ripped off a leg from a dead white-tailed deer and swallowed the deer whole in a few bites.

The ferocious bird was covered in wounds, its gray-white feathers were in disarray, and a huge gash on its abdomen was so deep that bone was visible, from which blood was constantly flowing.

Its left eye was completely blind, leaving only a deep, bloody hole, which only added to its ferocious aura and made people shudder.

The boy's eyes widened. His father had given him a picture of this ferocious bird in the monster encyclopedia. It was a snow eagle, which would become a level two monster when it came of age.

The snow eagle before them had two horns that were three inches long. It was a level three demon beast, comparable to a mid-Foundation Establishment cultivator!

The level-three snow eagle seemed unaware of their presence and continued to feast.

As the boy looked at the ferocious aura emanating from it, the surging excitement he felt from hunting demons suddenly vanished, and he trembled involuntarily.

A large, strong hand gently grasped his trembling hands, and a warm voice whispered in his ear: "Don't panic, your father is here. Slowly back away..."

The boy suddenly calmed down, and his lost courage returned.

He channeled his magic and used a lightness technique to quietly retreat, afraid of disturbing the snow eagle that was feeding.

But the two of them only took a step back. Suddenly, Xueying raised his head and looked in their direction, a hint of mockery appearing in his single remaining eye.

The boy's body stiffened instantly. It was the first time he had ever seen such a fierce look. The powerful pressure and killing intent of the level three demon beast shocked his soul. He finally understood his father's words.

It turns out that monsters really are this ferocious; a severely injured level three snow eagle could easily take his life.

"Ning'er, run!" Wang Ping suddenly turned around, shouted sharply, took out a snow-white flying sword, and shot it at Xue Ying.

"father……"

"run!"

Wang Ping interrupted him, took a step forward, and went to meet him.

Snow Eagle had already charged over, and the boy was plunged into despair. His father was only at the mid-stage of Qi Refining, and the flying sword was just a shell of its former self. He was no match for Snow Eagle at all.

But he couldn't let down the glimmer of hope his father had created by sacrificing his life. He gritted his teeth, turned and ran away, tears streaming down his face.

But the boy froze after running only a few steps.

A giant serpent descended from the sky, its enormous body so graceful that time seemed to slow down around it. It swam slowly through the air, its crimson scales like fire and its black eyes like abysses.

The crimson serpent came to the top of the snow eagle's head, gently exhaled, leaving a thin trail in the snow-dust-filled forest, and landed on the snow eagle.

The snow eagle had already pounced on Wang Ping, its broad wings spread wide. One claw easily deflected the white flying sword, while the other claw hovered above Wang Ping's head, about to cleave him in two.

But after this invisible aura approached, the snow eagle suddenly froze in mid-air, then slowly disappeared without leaving a single feather behind.

It's like a blot of ink gently wiped away on rice paper, leaving no trace, as if it had never existed.

Wang Ping and the boy were stunned. Suddenly, the crimson snake's black eyes turned around, and a bone-chilling cold swept over them.

But the crimson serpent only glanced at them before looking away, seemingly uninterested in the two.

Are you two cultivators from this area?

A clear voice rang out behind the two of them, startling Wang Ping and the boy, who quickly turned around.

A young man in white stood with his hands behind his back. Snow dust swirled around him, but avoided him. He had fair skin, a high nose, and bright eyes, like a celestial being descended to earth. He was otherworldly and gentle, and he was looking in this direction.

The crimson snake shrank to a few inches in length, landed on the young man's shoulder, and affectionately rubbed against his cheek.

The young man in white did not reveal any aura, but Wang Ping dared not be negligent in the slightest and bowed deeply: "Junior Wang Ping is a cultivator from Ping Shuang City, three hundred miles away. Thank you for saving my life, senior."

The boy was still in a daze when Wang Ping quickly gave him a wink.

The young man seemed to awaken from a dream, and bowed in greeting: "Wang Ning greets Senior."

Wang Ping said cautiously, "This child is inexperienced and has been rude. Please forgive me, senior..."

The young man in white said calmly, "It's alright. Are you familiar with the geography of this area?"

Wang Ping breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that the white-robed youth in front of him was not the kind of high-level cultivator who would kill at the drop of a hat, and he should be able to save his life.

He had witnessed Foundation Establishment and Core Formation cultivators kill each other at the slightest disagreement, regarding lower-level cultivators as mere ants.

Although the powerful figures of the Heaven-Slaying Pavilion strictly forbid high-level cultivators from attacking low-level cultivators at will, not many people abide by this rule.

The Spirit Realm is too vast, and there are too many cultivators. All the major sects are busy conquering other realms and are unable or unwilling to manage it.

After a high-level cultivator kills a low-level cultivator, all they need to do is fabricate an excuse for disrespecting them. This is especially true for rogue cultivators, who are often left without anyone to uphold justice.

On the contrary, no one dared to act recklessly in the markets and cities established by the major sects.

The more powerful a sect is, the more it values ​​the order of the market. Apart from their disciples, they absolutely do not allow other cultivators to harm people at will. Violators will be severely punished, which attracts rogue cultivators to continuously gather in those magnificent cultivator cities.

"For the past thirty years, I have been hunting demons in the snowy plains, traversing thousands of miles around. I know the terrain and topography of the area like the back of my hand, and I am willing to serve you, senior," Wang Ping replied respectfully.

A sense of doubt arose in his mind. Ping Shuang City was just an ordinary city, and the snowfields that stretched for thousands of miles around it were extremely barren. The most widespread creatures were level one demonic beasts, while level two and above were extremely rare.

This level-three snow eagle was also seriously injured, which is why it fled here to hunt blade-claw wolves and white-tailed deer to recover from its injuries. It would never normally appear in the vicinity, otherwise it would not have brought the boy here to hunt monsters.

Although the white-robed youth did not exude any aura, the crimson serpent beside him was so powerful that it must have at least the cultivation level of a Nascent Soul cultivator. What could be so special about this barren snowfield that would make him come here?
"Have you ever heard of traveling to Baishan?" the young man in white asked.

"Visiting Baishan?" Wang Ping was taken aback. He tried hard to recall and finally remembered, "I once heard a fellow Daoist mention this mountain. It seems to be deep in the snowfield, about ten thousand miles away from Pingshuang City. But that area is already inhabited by level two demon beasts, and I have never been there."

The young man in white's eyes lit up: "What shape is this mountain? Where exactly is it located?"

Wang Ping thought for a while and replied, "Mount Bai is about 500 zhang high and shaped like a crouching tiger. If you travel more than 9,000 li northwest from here, you should be able to see it."

A glint flashed in the eyes of the young man in white, as if he were deep in thought. After a moment, he nodded slightly: "You are right, this mountain does exist."

Wang Ping was greatly alarmed. Could it be that in just a moment, the white-robed youth had seen Youbai Mountain, which was thousands of miles away? What was his cultivation level?
"Please accept this spirit stone as a reward for your guidance."

A spirit stone appeared out of thin air in the white-robed youth's palm and slowly flew towards Wang Ping. As soon as he finished speaking, his figure disappeared.

Wang Ping subconsciously reached out and took the spirit stone, but upon closer inspection, he was startled.

This spirit stone is about the size of a thumb and contains a trace of misty energy. It is actually a high-grade spirit stone commonly used by Core Formation cultivators!

He quickly bowed deeply in the direction of the young man in white: "Thank you for your kindness, senior!"

The boy was still a little confused, but Wang Ping glared at him, and he quickly bowed down as well: "Thank you for your reward, senior!"

Although the white-clad youth had disappeared, the two maintained their bowing posture for a full quarter of an hour before straightening up.

Wang Ping gripped the high-grade spirit stone tightly and put it into his storage bag. Despite being in the frigid snowfield, his palms were sweating.

The boy asked in a low voice, "Father, that senior..."

He looked at the spot where the young man in white had disappeared, his eyes revealing a mixture of awe and longing.

Wang Ping said sternly, "We're going back to Pingshuang City right now. You must keep what happened today a secret. You absolutely cannot tell anyone, or you will surely bring about your own demise. Our whole family will lose our lives. Do you understand?"

A hint of fear appeared on the boy's face, and he whispered, "I understand, Father."

Wang Ping nodded and turned to walk back.

"Father, these blade-clawed wolves and white-tailed deer..."

"Forget about all that, let's go!"

The boy glanced longingly at the corpses scattered on the ground, but dared not disobey his father's orders. He turned and followed, his figure disappearing into the depths of the dense forest.

……

Chen Yuan flew through the sky, and the oncoming gale dispersed, as if it were making way for him.

A small red snake coiled around Chen Yuan's shoulder, flicking its tongue and gently licking his cheek; it was cool, slippery, and slightly itchy.

Chen Yuan smiled and said, "I'm going to pay my respects to a senior Mahayana practitioner later. You should get some sleep first."

The little red snake ignored it and instead licked even more diligently.

Chen Yuan reassured him, "Once this matter is settled, I'll let you play to your heart's content."

The little red snake then crawled contentedly onto Chen Yuan's left wrist, transforming into a blood jade bracelet, and fell into a deep sleep.

Chen Yuan shook his head helplessly. The little red snake had suddenly woken up a few days ago and was in a playful mood, so Chen Yuan had no choice but to release it.

The little red snake is already a mid-level demon general, but it spends most of its time in slumber, and its mind is only that of a child. Although it has the nature to increase its strength by sleeping, it can hardly suppress its childlike heart.

Chen Yuan was not worried about the red snake being recognized. It possessed the bloodline of the Candle Dragon and was protected by a wisp of time power when it was asleep. Even Mahayana cultivators could not see the true form of this blood jade bracelet.

After leaving the Cloud Green Plains, Chen Yuan returned to Donghua City and used an ultra-long-distance teleportation array to arrive at the largest continent in the Spirit Realm, the Dao Fall Continent.

Master Fu's great-hayman friend lived in the northernmost part of the Daoyun Continent, in the Manling Domain, in the Youbai Mountain area, but his exact location was not marked on the map.

Master Fu, being a Mahayana cultivator, was already being quite generous by drawing a map for Chen Yuan; Chen Yuan dared not ask for anything more.

He rushed to Shenzhou, but couldn't find the location of You Baishan. He happened to encounter Wang Ping and his son in danger and rescued them. He casually asked them a question, and unexpectedly, he actually found something.

Chen Yuan gave Wang Ping a high-grade spirit stone, which was already the most ordinary thing he had. Better treasures would only harm the father and son.

For over thirty years, Wang Ping dared not cross this ten thousand miles, but Chen Yuan arrived at the top of Youbai Mountain in no time and descended with his escape light.

He spread his divine sense, searching for the cave dwelling of the Mahayana cultivator, but found nothing.

On the desolate ice plain, a mountain peak resembling a reclining tiger suddenly rises abruptly. The cold wind howls as it sweeps across the rocks, and there is no trace of any caves or dwellings carved out there.

Chen Yuan frowned and scanned the entire Youbai Mountain with his divine sense, but still found nothing. He could only hear the mournful sound of the wind, let alone the cave dwelling of a Mahayana cultivator.

After a moment's hesitation, Chen Yuan followed Master Fu's instructions, clasped his hands in a respectful bow, and proclaimed loudly, "Junior Chen Yuan, on the orders of Master Fu, has come to pay my respects to Senior Zhumingzi!" (End of Chapter)