The entry for cultivating immortality states that after dying a hundred times, I attained immortalit

The sound of horses' hooves came from outside.

Jiang Bai propped himself up on the bed and looked out through the cracks in the wooden house.

Seven or eight black horses were moving along the village road, the riders all wearing blood-red short jackets with ferocious fang patterns embroidered on their chests. The leader was a middle-aged man with a face full of scars, a sixth-level Qi Refining cultivator, holding an iron whip in his hand, his eyes scanning between the village houses with an air of arrogance.

"It's the Bloodfang Riders," Xiaoling's voice trembled. "They come to collect blood taxes every year at this time. Those who can't pay spirit stones or medicinal herbs will be taken away and forced into hard labor."

After she finished speaking, she quickly walked to the corner of the room, rummaged through the earthenware jar and took out a small cloth bag containing several dried grayish-purple herbs with dark red edges on the leaves.

"This is the 'Blood Miasma Grass' that Grandpa and I have saved up for three months. It should be enough to cover this year's taxes."

Shouts and curses came from outside.

Jiang Bai got out of bed. The numbness in his right leg had subsided considerably, and the [Poisonous Miasma Symbiosis] technique was slowly transforming the remaining Green Vine Poison in his body. He moved his wrist, and the bloodied blade leaned against the wall.

"I'll handle it for you," he said.

Xiao Ling turned around abruptly and shook her head, saying, "Brother Jiang, your injury hasn't healed yet. There are more of them, and the leader, Deacon Zhao, is ruthless. Last year, he broke Old Man Liu's leg because he didn't pay half a medicinal herb."

Jiang Bai grinned, and the scabs on his face cracked open with the movement.

"Too many people?" He reached for the hilt of his knife. "I specialize in dealing with crowds."

When I opened the door, the sunlight was a bit too bright.

More than twenty villagers, men, women, and children, stood on both sides of the village road, their heads bowed, holding herbs or fragments of blood crystals in their hands. Blood Fang Riding was parked under the withered tree in the center of the village, and Deacon Zhao was using his iron whip to poke at the items handed over by the villagers.

"That's all?" He weighed the cloth bag in his hand and scoffed, "The miasma in Kurosawa is so thick this year, the medicinal herbs should be growing even better. Did someone hoard some?"

No one dared to answer.

Deacon Zhao's gaze swept across the village and stopped in front of a thatched hut at the end of the village. That was Xiao Ling's house, and a hunchbacked old man with gray hair stood at the door, holding a cloth bag in his hands.

"Old Wu, it's your turn."

The old man walked forward shakily, opened the cloth bag, and inside were five Blood Miasma Grasses, which were of better quality than those handed over by others.

Deacon Zhao picked up a Blood Miasma Grass, examined it, weighed it in his hand, and his face darkened: "Too little."

The old man quickly said, "Deacon Zhao, there has been a lot of rain this year, making it difficult to collect Blood Miasma Grass. These are already..."

"Enough with the nonsense," Deacon Zhao interrupted him. "According to the rules, each household should submit ten Blood Miasma Grasses or their equivalent in Blood Crystals. You only have seven at most, which is 30% short."

"But, in previous years, eight plants were enough."

"Those were the past years." Deacon Zhao tossed the cloth bag back into the old man's arms. "This year, someone died in the village, so the tax will be increased by 30%. If you can't pay, your granddaughter will have to pay it off."

Before he finished speaking, the iron whip was already raised and lashed at the old man's shoulder!

The whip reached mid-air, but suddenly stopped.

A hand suddenly appeared out of thin air, its five fingers gripping the tip of the whip like iron clamps.

Deacon Zhao was taken aback and looked up. The person who stopped him was a young man with scabs still on his face and tattered clothes, but his eyes were as cold as stones at the bottom of a deep pool.

"Where did this rogue cultivator come from?" Deacon Zhao lashed out with his whip, but the whip didn't budge. His expression changed. "Are you courting death?"

Jiang Baisong released his grip, and the iron whip snapped back, causing Deacon Zhao to take two steps back before regaining his footing.

"I'll pay the tax for her." Jiang Bai took out a spirit stone from his storage bag.

Deacon Zhao's eyes lit up instantly.

In the desolate state, a mid-grade spirit stone is a hard currency; one stone can be exchanged for a hundred blood crystals, which is more than enough to cover the taxes of ten households.

He grabbed the spirit stone, rubbing it in his hand, his greed evident. But soon, his eyes darted around, his gaze landing on the storage pouch at Jiang Bai's waist.

"Kid," Deacon Zhao grinned, "there's more in the bag, isn't there? Hand it all over, and I'll spare your life."

Jiang Bai looked at him and smiled.

"I've changed my mind," he said. "I'm not paying the taxes, and you're leaving your life behind."

Deacon Zhao's expression changed drastically: "Arrogant!"

He waved his hand behind him, and ten Bloodfang Riders dismounted simultaneously, swords drawn, and surrounded him in a fan shape. These riders were mostly at the third or fourth level of Qi Refining, and their coordinated movements subtly blocked Jiang Bai's retreat.

Jiang Bai did not back down.

He gripped the bloodied blade in his right hand, its edge pointing diagonally at the ground. His internal injuries hadn't healed, and his vital energy was less than 30%, but just as the opponent's killing intent surged, the "Desperate Counterattack" option quietly lit up in his mind.

A surge of scalding power flowed from the dantian to every part of the body.

The weakness caused by his injuries was fading, replaced by an almost boiling fighting spirit—the effect of this skill is to increase all attributes by 50% when near death, but at this moment, although he was not near death, the "desperate situation" formed by his injuries and the siege still caused the skill to passively trigger its effect by 30%.

enough.

The first to charge were two riders on the left, one wielding a sword to strike at the head, and the other thrusting a spear straight at the enemy. Swords and spears arrived simultaneously, blocking both the upper and lower routes.

Jiang Bai dodged to the side, the blade grazing his chest. At the same time, his left hand reached out, precisely gripping the middle of the spear, and pulled hard. The spear-wielding rider staggered forward, and Jiang Bai followed up with a knee strike to his abdomen. The rider groaned and bent over, the bloodied blade already slicing across his neck.

The blade trembled slightly as blood spurted out.

The warm air flowed back into the body along the wrist; though weak, it was like a drop of water seeping into a dried-up riverbed.

The other man's sword strike was already too late to retract. Jiang Bai gave him no chance to catch his breath, activating the [Swift Shadow Step] and closing in like a ghost, his bloodied blade slashing upwards—the very same upward slashing move from the Breaking Army Blade Technique.

The flash of the blade was like a blood-red moon rising in the sky.

The rider raised his sword to parry, but the moment the bloodied blade struck, the iron sword in his hand snapped in two like rotten wood. The remaining force of the blade continued to cleave from his crotch down to his chest.

Within two breaths, both men were dead.

Deacon Zhao's pupils constricted sharply: "Form the formation!"

The remaining eight quickly changed formation, with four holding shields in front and four holding crossbows behind. The crossbow bolts had a ghostly blue luster, clearly indicating that they were poisoned.

The crossbow strings snapped, and eight poisoned arrows pierced the air.

Instead of retreating, Jiang Bai advanced. His Shadow Step ability remained active while moving, blurring his figure in the sunlight. A poisoned arrow grazed his clothes and missed, but he had already crashed into the shield formation.

The Breaking Army Blade Technique is not about fancy moves, but only about killing the enemy.

Vertical slash, horizontal chop, diagonal flick.

Each strike carried the ruthlessness and directness of battlefield swordsmanship. Combined with the explosive speed of [Swift Shadow Step], the shield formation simply couldn't stop him. The more blood the blade drank when he was low on health, the more obvious the warm flow from the blade became. Although the replenishment was far less than the consumption, it made Jiang Bai more and more courageous in battle.

The third strike severed the shield, and in the process, sliced ​​off half of the shield-bearer's shoulder.

The fourth strike deflected two spears, the blade swirling as it slit open a man's throat.

Blood splattered on my face, warm and sticky.

Deacon Zhao finally panicked and turned his horse around to flee.

Jiang Bai flung his hand and threw the bloodied blade.

The blade transformed into a streak of blood, piercing through the horse's belly and emerging from Zhao's back, pinning him to the ground. The neighing of the horse and the howling of the man mingled together, soon fading into only the sounds of convulsions.

Seeing that things were not going well, the remaining three Bloodfang riders mounted their horses and galloped away.

Jiang Bai did not pursue.

He walked to Deacon Zhao's corpse, pulled out the bloodied knife, and wiped the blood off the man's clothes. The warmth from the blade lingered, and his internal energy had recovered by about half.

The villagers who were watching were all stunned.

Xiao Ling's grandfather walked forward shakily, his face turning pale as he looked at the corpses lying haphazardly on the ground: "Brave warrior, you've brought this upon yourself. Deacon Zhao is a distant relative of the Blood Fang Chieftain. If you kill him, the Blood Fang Chieftain will never let this go."

Jiang Bai sheathed his sword: "It's alright, I already have a grudge against them."

The old man opened his mouth, then sighed and waved to the villagers: "Let's deal with these first."

That night, the village killed a malaria-infested chicken and cooked a large pot of soup as a way of expressing their gratitude.

A bonfire was lit in the center of the village, and the villagers sat around it. Although their faces still showed worry, the atmosphere had finally relaxed a bit. Xiao Ling carried a bowl of chicken soup and sat down next to Jiang Bai, whispering, "Brother Jiang, I changed your dressing. Your wound is healing very quickly."

Jiang Bai took the bowl. The chicken soup had added herbs to replenish qi and blood, and it felt warm and comforting after drinking it.

"Your grandfather knew medicine?"

"Yes." Xiaoling nodded. "When Grandpa was young, he was a rogue cultivator who learned alchemy. Later, something happened and his cultivation was destroyed, so he took me to live in seclusion here."

As they were talking, the old man walked over with his cane and sat down opposite Jiang Bai.

The firelight illuminated the wrinkles on his face, and his once cloudy eyes now gleamed with a sharp edge. He stared at Jiang Bai for a long while, then suddenly lowered his voice: "Brave warrior, are you practicing the 'Hundred Poisons Tempering Body Technique'?"

Jiang Bai paused in his movements.

"How did you find out, senior?"

The old man smiled bitterly: "When I was traveling back then, I saw disciples of the Valley of Ten Thousand Poisons fighting with others. Although the poison patterns in your body are broken, the underlying essence cannot be hidden from experts."

He paused, then lowered his voice even further: "You want to reforge the poison runes?"

Jiang Bai put down his bowl and did not deny it.

The old man pondered for a moment and said, "The Hundred Poisons Tempering Technique is the true teaching of the Valley of Ten Thousand Poisons. It follows the path of 'nourishing the body with poison and transforming the body into ten thousand poisons.' Your poison patterns are shattered. If you want to refine them again, you must nourish them with even more domineering poisons."

"Please give me some guidance, senior."

"The desolate state has nine unique and deadly poisons: Black Swamp Miasma, Corrosive Bone Vulture Saliva, Green Vine Thorn Poison, Blood Fang Gu Poison, Bone Mound Corpse Poison, Poisonous Dragon Saliva, Heart-Eating Flower, Burial Mound Venom, and Lava Scorpion Tail Sting," the old man slowly explained. "You've already been exposed to the first four—Black Swamp Miasma goes without saying; there must be crystallized saliva near the Corrosive Bone Vulture's nest; you've already been poisoned by Green Vine Thorn Poison; and Steward Zhao's iron whip is coated with a special Gu poison made by Blood Fang Village, so you must have been tainted when you held it."

Jiang Bai looked inside his right arm and saw that the dark red new markings were quietly coiled up, with several different toxic auras indeed entwined deep within them.

"You need to gather all nine poisons and refine them using the methods recorded in the 'Black Swamp Poison Scripture' to allow the poisonous patterns to be reborn." After saying this, the old man coughed a few times. "That's all I know. Whether you succeed or not depends entirely on your own fate."

Jiang Bai clasped his hands in thanks: "Thank you, senior."

He took out two bottles of Qi-restoring pills from his storage bag and handed them to the old man. The old man couldn't refuse, but finally accepted them, sighing, "In this world, just surviving is already difficult enough. Brave man, the road ahead is fraught with danger; take care."

The banquet ended close to midnight.

Jiang Bai returned to Xiao Ling's wooden house and sat cross-legged to regulate his breathing. The [Poisonous Miasma Symbiosis] technique continued to operate, slowly transforming the trace amount of Blood Fang Gu poison he had inhaled that day. The new marking on his right arm solidified a bit more, resembling a healed scar, with a dark blood-red hue.

A soft knock sounded on the door.

Xiaoling pushed open the door and entered, carrying a small, antique wooden box. The box was made of a type of dark wood unique to Kurosawa, and it felt cool to the touch.

"Brother Jiang," she handed over the wooden box, "this is my family's heirloom 'poison-repelling bead,' which can protect you from some deadly poisons when worn. Please take it."

Jiang Bai didn't accept it: "This is too valuable."

"You saved our whole village, this is how we repay you," Xiaoling insisted, her eyes reflecting the moonlight streaming through the window. "Besides, you're going to collect those deadly poisons next, and having this will give you a better chance of success."

Jiang Bai paused for a moment, then took the wooden box.

Upon opening the box, inside was a grayish-white bead the size of a pigeon's egg, with natural cloud patterns on its surface. When held in the palm of the hand, a cool sensation spread along the arm, and a small amount of the remaining toxins in the body that had not yet been resolved were forced out.

A system notification popped up:

[Obtain the special item "Poison Repellent Bead," which increases poison resistance by 10% when worn.]

Jiang Bai solemnly put it away: "I will keep it safe."

Xiao Ling nodded, turned to leave, then stopped and whispered, "Brother Jiang, be careful of a rogue cultivator called 'Old Man Yin Bone.' He's a guest elder of Blood Fang Village, at the early Foundation Establishment stage, and skilled in using bone poison. Grandpa said he went to Zhongzhou in his early years and was very interested in the legacy of Ten Thousand Poison Valley. The swordsmanship and poisonous aura you displayed today might attract him."

"The Old Man of Yin Bones..." Jiang Bai noted down the name. "Thank you."

Xiaoling pursed her lips, ultimately said nothing more, and gently closed the door before leaving.

The following morning, Jiang Bai bid farewell.

The villagers gathered at the village entrance to see him off, and Xiaoling's grandfather gave him a bag of dry food and a few emergency herbs. Xiaoling stood behind her grandfather, her eyes a little red, but she didn't cry.

"I'll come back to see you all after I've finished my business," Jiang Bai said, clasping his hands in a fist salute.

Xiaoling nodded vigorously.

About ten miles outside the village, the fog in the Black Swamp gradually thickened. Following the map, Jiang Bai headed southwest towards the "Bone Hill Village" territory—the only place to find "Bone Hill Corpse Poison," one of the nine deadly poisons.

His steps suddenly stopped.

Without warning, the [Killing Intent Perception] in his mind issued a violent warning: within a range of fifty feet, an overwhelming malice was slowly approaching from the mountain path ahead.

That was an aura that no Qi Refining cultivator could possess.

The oppressive aura was like a mountain, mixed with decay and coldness; the air grew heavier with every zhang closer.

Jiang Bai pressed his right hand on the hilt of the knife, while his left hand gripped the poison-avoiding bead.

The fog ahead lifted slightly, revealing a figure in the middle of the mountain path.

It was an old man in a black robe with a hunchback, holding a pale white bone staff with three shrunken skulls embedded in its head. His eyes were sunken, his face was covered with brown spots, and when he smiled, he revealed sparse, yellow teeth.

"Kid..."

The hoarse voice was like sandpaper rubbing against a stone.

"The aura of the poisonous markings on your body can be smelled from ten miles away." The old man licked his lips. "It smells very good."

Jiang Baixin sank down.

The old man of Yin bones arrived even faster than he had anticipated.

The old man gently tapped the ground with his bone cane.

"Click, click, click..."

The earth churned, and nine skeletal skeletons burst forth, their eye sockets flickering with eerie green flames, their skeletal hands gripping rusty swords. The aura emanating from each skeleton was no weaker than that of a fifth-level Qi Refining cultivator.

The nine skeletons silently dispersed, blocking all paths in all directions.

Jiang Bai took a deep breath, and the [Desperate Counterattack] entry in his dantian began to heat up slightly—he had no idea how much the entry could bridge the gap between Foundation Establishment and Qi Refining.

But he knew that this battle was unavoidable.

The old man with the grotesque bones grinned maliciously, revealing the few black teeth remaining on his gums.

"Offer your poisonous markings to this old man," he slowly raised his bone staff, "and I will leave you with a whole corpse."