“From Lord Skyrend himself I learned,” croaked Floating Wind, his gaze fixed on the depths of the grand hall nestled within the four pavilions, “that his celestial abode was guarded by a spirit of immense power. Only after a great and perilous struggle did Skyrend vanquish the spectral guardian and seize dominion over this place of immortal craft.”

Wang Lin’s eyes flashed with a light of adventure. Without hesitation, he strode forth from the stone bridge, entering the inner sanctum of the celestial manor. The instant his foot crossed the threshold, the seemingly endless sea of blossoms stirred. A potent, exotic fragrance arose, washing over him in a fragrant wave. Yet, hidden within the intoxicating sweetness lay a subtle poison!

“After-Rain Venom!” exclaimed Floating Wind, his voice sharp. “In my wanderings through ancient texts of the celestial realms, I encountered a scroll detailing the art of venom from the Rain Immortal realm. Therein, the poisons of the heavens were ranked, and given brief explanation. Among those born naturally from the arrangement of certain flowers are two of particular note. The first, as we now smell, is the After-Rain Venom. Its sweetness masks its peril; a mere whiff will disrupt one’s cultivation, and a greater dose can utterly ruin an adept’s spiritual state.”

The Three Dust Daoists exchanged worried glances, yet stood their ground. Though potent, they were Nirvanic Soul Seekers and possessed defenses against such threats.

“And the second?” asked Wang Lin, his gaze unwavering on the swaying field of flowers.

Floating Wind’s eyes flickered with unease. “The After-Rain Venom is but ninety-third in the ranking. The other, born of floral arrangement, is called the Flower Spirit, and ranks forty-ninth!”

Wang Lin withdrew his gaze from the myriad hues of the blossoms. With a wave of his hand, a gust of wind erupted, sweeping through the floral expanse.

Yet, a murmur escaped his lips. The fragrant poison seemed impervious to the gale, clinging to the air like a wraith.

“Intriguing!” Wang Lin narrowed his eyes, standing firm. As the scented poison drew near, he spoke with a voice as still as a mountain lake: “Silver Corpse!”

At his command, the woman clad in silver, who had followed closely, sprang into action. She bypassed the Three Dust Daoists and strode directly into the oncoming wave of poisoned air.

Through the art of refinement, Wang Lin had come to understand the intricacies of this corporeal vessel. Its strength lay not in extravagant spells, nor enchanted blades, save for the strange scissors held within its soul.

Her true power resided in poison! When he seized this silver-clad corpse, many sought to claim her, but each had their cultivation drained and their flesh consumed, reduced to mere skeletons.

Previously, Wang Lin had attributed this to a divine power, but now he knew better. It was poison, the very essence of this creature! Within her body, a multitude of toxins flowed, blending and shifting into myriad forms of deadly potency.

In Wang Lin’s eyes, the silver corpse was now a walking plague! Its mastery of venom was its greatest strength. Were it not for his own Ancient God physique, even he, a cultivator of great power, would be wary of such an abominable being.

As the Silver Corpse stepped into the fragrant poison, a substance that would cripple ordinary cultivators, it had no effect on her. Instead, her small mouth opened, forming a swirling vortex that drew in the poisoned air.

The invisible poison took form, coiling wisps of vapor rising from each flower and rushing towards the Silver Corpse’s maw.

The Corpse’s alabaster complexion gained a flush, indistinguishable from the living. Wang Lin observed with impassive eyes, his attention fixed upon the flowers themselves. He felt an ill-defined sense of foreboding upon regarding the flowers.

Suddenly, one of the blossoms in the field erupted with an abundance of silken strands, from which materialized the spectral form of a maiden.

She was naked, her eyes glowing with an eerie light, her form curled into a kneeling position, yet her head was held high. This would have been strange enough on its own, but in that instant, every flower in the field released its silken strands, and a multitude of similar spectral maidens appeared.

Wang Lin saw that beneath each flower, buried within the soil, lay the skeletal remains of a child. This was no field of flowers, but a mass grave!

“Flower Spirits!” groaned Floating Wind, gazing upon the kneeling maidens with a bitter smile.

“Who would have expected such a sight in this celestial abode? Where there are such abundant Flower Spirits, a Flower Immortal is like to exist, and they are no mere celestial beings, but a kind of poison given sentience. They can shapeshift and are ranked… tenth among the deadliest toxins of the world.”

The spectral maidens, in that same instant, opened their eyes, now burning with a ghastly fire. They rose, lifted by unseen currents, and flew towards the Silver Corpse in the air.

“In the ancient texts, it is written that these Flower Spirits are the souls of young girls, selected from the mortal realm and fed unique elixirs until they became living medicine. They were buried in mass and awakened in an unnatural way. Their spirits are then used as the base material for the Flower Immortal. The celestial beings of old held them in great value, seeing them as guardians of the home or objects of entertainment!” Floating Wind’s encyclopedic knowledge of the celestial realms revealed horrors long forgotten. Though his tone was even, the tale was a grim testament to depravity.

The Three Dust Daoists were clearly shaken by what they had heard. They stared at the spectral maidens, their hearts filled not with pity, but horror at the cruelty of the immortal realm. Even Big Head gasped, his silence a testament to his shock.

Wang Lin, however, remained composed. He had gleaned a deeper understanding of the immortal realms; the knowledge of the Celestial Emperor of White Fan alone spoke volumes.

As Blood God Child had once proclaimed: “What is this if not demoncery?”

White Fan, Qing Lin; their methods were as brutal as they were effective. Wang Lin had long since accepted this grim reality.

There was no paradise in the pursuit of immortality. Even the celestial realms were not beyond such horrors. He gazed upon the Flower Spirit maidens. The maidens were as if in a trance, bearing no expression, but in their eyes he felt a great malice. This malice was suppressed so that it was not visible, however it remained to grow ever stronger.

Suddenly, the spectral maidens surrounded the Silver Corpse. The malice was now freed. The maidens wrapped themselves around the Corpse’s body, as if to destroy it. The Silver Corpse opened her maw, and from it emanated a great wave of mist. The flowers of mist destroyed the Flower Maidens.

As the mists of the silver corpse rose, the ground began to wither, the sound of a great shriek emerged from the inner hall, and ten immortal soldiers emerged from the hall.

They burst into the sky to stop the Silver Corpse. Floating Wind blocked them, and the Three Dust Daoists fought as well. Big Head’s dried body became even more lean, his face bulged out, a sinew protruding from his eyes.

The hall erupted in a great battle, the Sky filled with mist, and the bodies of the enemies were torn apart. The bodies of the soldiers are strong, wielding supernatural powers.

Each soldiers bore the power of an peak Solid Soul cultivator. Each was powerful enough to stand up against a Nirvana seeker. One Dust blocked three of the soldiers, and the others fought those that remained.