Chapter 21 - Chapter no.21 Poison and Solitude

Days seemed to slip away like grains of sand through the hourglass, becoming memories that would never return. Here, I found myself alongside a group of young cultivators, all of us seeking enlightenment and power under the tutelage of the enigmatic Yue Fei.
Every morning began with the sun's first rays casting their golden hues upon the ancient stone walls. The echoes of our footsteps resonated through the training ground as we embarked on a run, our breaths steady and synchronized. Our attire was simple, consisting of loose robes and woven sandals, allowing for unencumbered movement. After our run, we would rest and partake in a modest meal, our bowls filled with hearty vegetables and steaming rice, our cups with the purest water from the valley's springs.
In the hours that followed, we would gather in the field, our senses attuned to the flow of spiritual qi within and around us. The field was filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of our breathing, and the occasional rustle of silk as we shifted our positions. The air was thick with the scent of incense, which seemed to guide our minds deeper into a state of inner contemplation. As we focused on our spiritual energy, our minds were cleansed of the distractions of the mundane world.
The afternoons were a time of leisure, a chance for us to pursue our individual interests.
........
I found myself seated in the bustling dining hall of our living quarters. The sounds of clanging utensils and the rich, tantalizing scent of delicious food filled the air. I held a steaming bowl of black egg soup, the thick, aromatic broth a comforting presence before me. Children from various groups sat together in clusters, chatting and laughing with one another, their spirits lifted by the sense of camaraderie that filled the air. However, I knew that this jovial atmosphere was nothing more than a facade put up by these children to gain favor with the strong while they picked on the weak.
This scene brought back memories of my life back on the streets.
I was about to take a sip of my soup, savoring the aroma, when a voice interrupted my solitude.
"May I sit here?" the voice called out, and I looked up to see Xie Dongyi standing before me. The bruises and scrapes on the boy's face indicated that he had been involved in some sort of altercation with the other groups. This was a common occurrence in this place, as the children's petty sense of superiority often resulted in physical altercations and bullying.
Despite this, I tried to stay out of their way, choosing instead to immerse myself in my projects with Fire Blood Poison and acquiring the knowledge contained within Alexander's journals.
"Enjoying your meal?" Xie Dongyi asked with a forced smile, his eyes darting around the room nervously. I gave a noncommittal, "Yeah," my attention already beginning to drift back to my thoughts.
Suddenly, I felt the weight of someone's gaze upon us, and I turned to see Chun Jiao staring at Xie Dongyi, her gaze shifting into a glare as her eyes narrowed.
A sly smile formed on my lips as I sensed an opportunity to exploit the situation. I knew that these overly talented individuals would more than likely come to bother me eventually, and I needed to do something to shoo away the flies that buzzed around them.
I looked at Xie Dongyi, my smirk widening as I added my sarcastic remark, "Yeah, I can see who wears the pants in the relationship. Must be great getting pegged by her."
As I predicted, Xie Dongyi took the bait, his face flushing with embarrassment and anger. "I said Chun Jiao and I aren't in that kind of relationship!" he shouted, his voice echoing throughout the crowded hall and drawing the attention of everyone present.
I patiently waited for someone to take action, knowing that since the top dog had been insulted, someone would soon step up to gain favor by shutting us up.
Seeing this as an opportunity to score some brownie points with the current top dog of their group, a brown-haired man named Ye Mo emerged from Chun Jiao's table, accompanied by a few others. His eyes blazed with anger as he strode towards Xie Dongyi and me, his voice bellowing, "What the hell did you say?!"
Ye Mo repeated his question, his voice reverberating through the room, "What the hell did you say?" as he took a step closer to Xie Dongyi. The androgynous boy cowered in fear, taking a step back as his legs trembled beneath him, a clear indication of his intimidation towards Ye Mo's aggressive demeanor. But I was not one easily intimidated, not after the life I had lived on the streets. I could tell that this man was nothing more than a barking dog with no bite.
I thought to myself, 'I could use this to my advantage.'
Before Ye Mo could continue his threatening approach, I cut him off. "We heard you the first time, no need to open that cesspit you call a mouth again and again. I have already lost my appetite because of the horrendous odor emanating from your breath," I said, my voice dripping with disdain.
My words only served to fan the flames of Ye Mo's anger. His face contorted with rage, he slammed his palm onto the ground and snarled in the most intimidating voice he could muster, "Care to repeat that?"
In the next instant, a scene unfolded that left everyone in the hall shocked. Ye Mo let out a blood-curdling scream as I jammed my fist into his hand, completely shattering the hand and the table and more the pain could even be registered for Ye Mo, I quickly following up with an elbow to his nose, knocking him back.
Leaping up from my chair, I seized the opportunity provided by Ye Mo's momentary daze and slammed into his body, causing him to fly backwards and crash into a table at the back of the hall. The table splintered into pieces, and Ye Mo lay motionless on the floor, unconscious.
I took this as my cue to leave, as I could feel the weight of the stares from the other children in the hall upon me. This was my way of sending a warning to them that even though I had a low-grade spiritual root, it didn't mean I couldn't defend myself.
In the eyes of the children, my behavior was far beyond their comprehension. They couldn't understand why I would purposely antagonize the most powerful group in the hall. Even so, no one dared to stop me. They felt as if they would be met with the same fate as Ye Mo if they dared to intervene.
.....
Chun Jiao and Lee Min watched as the boy walked out of the dining hall.
Chun Jiao was extremely anger as she brushed the scar she had on her face.
" That Ye Mo is such a pathetic bastard, can't even put up a fight."
Lee Min glanced at Chun Jiao wondering if the girl infront of her was an idiot or not.
Did she not see that inhuman display of strength or not ?
Lee Min spoke up, causing Chun Jiao to turn her gaze towards the white-haired beauty in surprise. " I think he had already considered everyone here as his enemies anyway," Lee Min explained.
"What do you mean?" Chun Jiao asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Think about it," Lee Min continued. "When you asked him for a favor and even offered him such a special position, he outright refused and insulted you. He isn't afraid of us, but his actions now have just cemented a fear in everyone."
Chun Jiao scoffed, her tone dripping with contempt. "Well, he should know his place. That insolent boy has no right to treat me like that. And now he's just made it worse for himself by making enemies of everyone here."
"Maybe you're right," Lee Min replied, her voice even and calm. She knew better than to provoke Chun Jiao's anger any further. However, deep down, she couldn't help but remember the boy's presence during the confrontation—suffocating and dangerous.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Amidst the remnants of Alexander's lab, dust particles danced in the slender beams of sunlight, casting an aged pallor over the dilapidated room. The scent of ancient parchment lingered as I, keenly observant, gazed upon a dozen peculiar eggs carefully placed on a worn table. Their exterior was textured, marbled with vibrant swirls of red and orange, resembling molten lava encapsulated within a fragile shell. The energy within them seemed dormant yet palpably potent, as if a hidden fire smoldered beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.
Kunlan, his eyes reflecting a mix of bemusement and caution, turned towards me. "If you wanted to die quickly, rather than get poisoned by these insects, I suggest you throw yourself off some building," he quipped, an eyebrow arching in ironic amusement.
I simply rolled my eyes at his attempt to disrupt my focus and continued thumbing through Alexander's journal, the pages yellowed and fragile beneath my fingers. Alexander's devotion to his craft was overwhelmingly evident. Illustrations of the Fire Blood Centipede, in intricate detail, adorned the pages, accompanied by notes written in a meticulously neat scrawl.
Absorbing the words, I delved into a detailed section about augmenting the toxicity of the centipede's venom. In reality, increasing the toxicity of venom is complex and could involve various genetic, environmental, and nutritional factors. However, Alexander's method was notably unconventional yet intriguingly plausible. He found that a specific diet of venomous snakes and certain toxic plants amplified the venom's potency in the offspring, an adaptation developed over generations which was easy to do since Fire Blood Centipedes mature in a matter of weeks and are ready to breed.
Furthermore, he had devised a method to carefully extract venom glands from adult centipedes and combine them with rare, lethal botanical extracts. This meticulous process, he claimed, synthesized a poison that was significantly more potent and lethal than the venom found in a typical Fire Blood Centipede.
.....
Kunlan, ever the skeptic yet shrouded in a guise of dispassionate curiosity, delivered the nourishments required for my darkly intriguing experiment: venomous snakes and a selection of herbs renowned for their lethal potential when introduced to a creature's system. His words were lined with a stark, morbid fascination, "I truly want to see whether you live to tell the tale of your endeavors or become a cautionary tale whispered in the shadowy corridors of rogue alchemists."
Ignoring his ominous words, I carefully introduced the young centipedes to their hazardous diet, observing as they voraciously consumed the toxic fare. Their bodies, even in such nascent stages, shimmered with a foreboding luminescence, an indicator of the lethal concoction brewing within them.
Within weeks, the diminutive creatures matured, their venom ostensibly enriched by the pernicious diet. In a ruthless, calculating act, I segregated them by gender into two separate poison jars, leaving them to a fate where only the fittest would emerge victorious. A week of hunger-induced frenzy concluded with each jar housing a singular survivor: one male, one female, each a testament to the brutal efficiency of nature and strategic cruelty.
Their mating was not a union of affection but a calculated alliance of deadly potency. And, as their progeny hatched, the cycle repeated: a gauntlet of survival, breeding, and venom enhancement, meticulously following Alexander's macabre roadmap toward creating a venom of unparalleled potency.
After several iterative cycles and months of meticulous, morally ambiguous labor, the moment of revelation arrived. I extracted the venom from one of the resultant centipedes, and it flowed into the vial like liquid light, an iridescent glow illuminating my surroundings with an almost ethereal quality.
A whispered thought resonated through the otherwise silent lab: had I gone too far?
The venom before me now held properties near mythical in their potency. Indeed, the following stage, as per Alexander's extensive notes, would yield a toxin capable of eroding stone.
.....
A parchment, intricately detailed and worn by time, laid before me, bearing the meticulously drawn anatomy of a human body, each nerve and muscle fiber delineated with utmost precision. This was my creation, an artifact spawned from countless hours of observation and study, a guide that might facilitate mastery over the venom coursing through my veins.
My eyes, alight with a blend of ambition and restrained apprehension, traced the pathways upon which the venom might travel within my own body, understanding that I was venturing into the unknown, teetering on the brink of alchemical genius or potential self-destruction. The objective was not to build a resistance, but rather to cultivate a harmony, a symbiosis between the venom and the vital Qi permeating the very essence of the environment and my being.
My quill danced upon my notes, theorizing optimal injection sites and durations of venom exposure, based on both Alexander's experiences and my own calculated risk. Key areas were identified: the deltoid, pectoral muscles, and quadriceps, designed to mitigate the potential of immediate cardiac arrest while ensuring that the venom might sufficiently permeate my system.
Penning down meticulous notations, I proposed:
- Deltoid Injection: Venom exposure of no more than two minutes to allow its pervasion into the upper torso while minimizing risk to vital organs.
- Pectoral Muscles: A cautious one-minute exposure, given their proximity to the heart.
- Quadriceps: A maximum of three minutes, considering the substantial muscle mass and distance from crucial organs.
These durations were calculated to provide just enough time for the venom to entice the Qi, enhancing my physicality, particularly muscle fortification, without resulting in a fatality. Any misjudgment in these precise measurements, however, would spiral into a catastrophic failure, an acknowledgment that held my hand steady and my mind acutely focused.
In a vial adjacent to my sketches, a vibrant, mesmerizing liquid lingered: the anti-venom. Meticulously crafted, it would be my salvation should the venom's journey within me venture awry. My gaze fixated upon it, understanding that its presence was as crucial as the venom itself, a lifeline amidst a perilous venture into the mysteries of strength and survival.
My eyes flitted open, pupils dilating as they rested upon the jar – a vessel harboring that mesmerizing, deadly liquid light. My fingers, albeit quivering from the prior venomous interaction, deftly manipulated the custom syringe, its design heavily influenced by Alexander's intimate, perceptive notes regarding venom administration.
Inserting the needle into the jar, I carefully drew the luminescent venom into the syringe, the glow seemingly pulsating in tandem with my own heightened senses. My gaze then transitioned to my quadriceps, muscles that had already commenced a subtle tremor in anticipation, or perhaps warning, of the venom's impending invasion.
With a steadiness born from both necessity and a burgeoning intimacy with danger, I administered the venom, feeling the second cascade of searing pain as it propagated through my lower limbs. Immediately, I wrapped a thick, impenetrable cloth tightly around my thigh, a barrier intended to restrict the venom's journey to the designated muscular region.
An agony, both alien and intimately familiar, coursed through me, binding with the lingering torment from the initial injection site.
Searing pain enveloped my being as the venom infiltrated the muscle fibers of my quads, each droplet a cascade of torment and transformation within the tissues. The cloth, tied tightly above the injection site, served as a dam, confining the venom to the designated area yet allowing the intoxicating dance between pain and power to persist.
My breaths came in ragged gasps, each exhale a fleeting respite from the engulfing inferno within my veins. Beads of perspiration glistened upon my forehead, testament to the agonizing struggle transpiring within. Yet, beneath the anguish, a peculiar sensation began to manifest, akin to tendrils of energy coiling, intertwining with the venom and my own spiritual qi.
As I clenched my fists, the muscles of my forearms trembling under the internal tumult, my mind sought refuge in the ancient practices of meditative focus. I envisioned the venom, not as an adversary, but a cataclysmic ally, its deadly potential a crucible within which my strength could be reforged.
With each heartbeat, a symphony of pain and power played through my body, the venom acting as a conductor, enticing the spiritual qi to meld into my muscular fibers, reshaping, redefining their very essence. My quads, aflame with internal combustion, began to pulsate, each throb a tangible manifestation of transformation occurring at the most foundational level.
Amidst the conflagration of pain, my consciousness wavered, teetering on the precipice of surrender. Yet, the pulsating energy, increasingly vibrant and potent, coursed through my being, instilling a determination to persevere through the agonizing metamorphosis.
When it seemed that my flesh and spirit could endure no more, my hand, quivering yet resolute, grasped the syringe containing the antivenom. I plunged it into my flesh, the liquid salvation coursing through me, quelling the chaotic maelstrom wrought by the venom. The flames within were doused, leaving behind an exhilarating vitality and an unfamiliar, formidable strength coursing through newly-forged muscles.
As I collapsed, breathless and exhausted, amidst the remnants of my tumultuous endeavor, my gaze was involuntarily drawn toward the jar.
This wasn't over yet.
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The tranquil veil of the night was disrupted by the creaking hinges of the lab's door. Kunlan's silhouette, framed by the dim luminescence of the moon, cautiously peered around, eyes searching for an inhabitant amidst the shadows.
A guttural, exhausted sound escaped me, catching Kunlan's attention, "Arrggh."
His eyes, widening in a mixture of shock and amusement, fell upon my naked, sweat-drenched form sprawled across the lab's floor. "Looks like you survived," he mused, a smirk dancing across his features.
My response was a solitary, weakly raised middle finger, which only served to deepen Kunlan's chuckle. "You know," he began, his tone now laden with a hint of genuine curiosity mingled with his typical sarcasm, "Fire Blood Centipedes and similar alchemical products used to enhance the body are generally employed by high-ranking families in the Murim to strengthen their children."
I shifted, eyes locking onto Kunlan, as my muscles, still reverberating from their venom-induced ordeal, twitched in anticipation of his forthcoming words.
He continued, "They normally use generation 4 or 5 variants on their children to fortify their bodies before cultivation." A pause, his eyes probing mine, "What generation did you use?"
Mustering my strength, I gradually ascended, the floor beneath me protesting with a crackling shatter under the inadvertent pressure of my newfound power. A gesture towards a neighboring wall, and a casual flick of my finger, sent a resonating shockwave that crumbled it effortlessly. "Generation 20," I confessed, my voice a gravelly whisper.
Kunlan, audibly amused, tossed a bracelet towards me, which, due to my yet uncalibrated strength and coordination, I failed to catch. "You suck," he jested, earning another eye-roll from me.
"That bracelet," he began, earnestness replacing jest in his demeanor, "has a Qi seal on it. It's commonly utilized on rogue cultivators in prison. It's designed to dampen the output of the Qi inside the body."
"Thanks," I managed, gazing at the bracelet now nestled upon the broken floor, an inadvertent acknowledgment that this device, this gift from Kunlan, would be crucial in mastering the unwieldy strength now coursing through me. It would facilitate a gradual acclimation, allowing me to explore and refine this perilously acquired power while mitigating the risk of inadvertent destruction or attracting undesired attention in the tumultuous journey ahead.