It was just that the pills she and Jiang Jin had taken earlier were refined by the Seventh Elder.
The ones fed to the infants afterward, however, were refined by her.
Moreover, because she didn't have enough Qi-Replenishing Pills from her latest batch, she had used some older ones to make up the difference.
She had thought she was making progress.
She hadn't expected the side effects to still be this severe.
Jiang Jin's face grew even darker. Before he could do anything, he looked down.
The infants at his feet had completely revealed their true forms.
Their limbs degenerated and shriveled at a visible rate, turning into baby-sized worms.
They were snowy white all over and as plump as silkworms.
Where their heads should have been, a slit tore open, revealing a dense ring of tiny teeth.
Their gaping, bloody maws opened and closed, and the sounds coming from them were still the cries of infants.
“Wah—wah, wah—”
The cries were sharp and shrill, exactly the same as before. But coming from these worms crawling all over the ground, it was so bizarre that it made one's scalp tingle even more.
After a brief moment of panic, the cultivators guarding the courtyard turned their heads in unison as if suddenly controlled, their gazes locking onto the culprit.
Jiang Jin also turned his head.
Along with those cultivators, he stared fixedly at Song Yao. Their mouths opened and closed in perfect unison as they spoke, “It's all your fault.”
“Catch her.”
“Kill her.”
Murky black qi billowed from the cultivators and Jiang Jin, wrapping around their limbs and gradually filling the entire courtyard.
The whites of their eyes were also swallowed by the black mist, their pupils shrinking to the size of needlepoints. Their lips turned purple, yet they kept staring at Song Yao, their mouths continuously opening and closing, “Nourishment, nourishment, nourishment—”
“Nourishment can restore us.”
“Nourishment.”
“We need nourishment.”
The voices grew louder and more rapid, like a chanting curse.
In the next instant, they moved simultaneously.
Leaping from every corner of the courtyard, shrouded in black qi, they lunged toward Song Yao on the eaves.
Song Yao was still looking down, taking notes.
The incoming black mist caused her hand to shake, leaving a smudge of ink on the page.
She frowned slightly, her nose wrinkling instinctively. She lifted her eyelids, looking rather annoyed. “Writing these things already makes me sleepy.”
The moment the words left her mouth, a crisp, cold sword light flew out from behind her.
The Bishui Sword unsheathed soundlessly, carrying a cold, imposing aura that brooked no offense.
The blade swept horizontally, steadily blocking the strike from the approaching Jiang Jin. The clash of metal shattered the roof tiles, sending fragments flying.
Jiang Jin was forced back half a step. Before he could stabilize himself, the tip of the Bishui Sword spun, drawing a perfect arc around Song Yao.
Sword qi swept outward.
The sword qi struck the chests of the three or four cultivators in the lead. They flew backward like broken kites, crashing into the scholar tree in the courtyard and snapping its trunk with a loud crack.
Song Yao sat on the eaves without even changing her posture. From time to time, she glanced down at the worms on the ground, her brush still sketching and writing in her notebook.
The night wind rustled her plain robes and loose hair. The Bishui Sword darted around her like a flying bird, its green light flowing and casting flickering shadows across her profile.
When Ning Zhou was woken up by a cultivator crashing into him, this was the scene that met his eyes. He stared blankly for a moment.
Wait.
That was so cool.
Was this really the same little beggar who had almost been killed by evil cultivators alongside him?
They were supposed to be weak together. How did she become this strong?
No, wait.
What was going on right now?
A soft, sticky sensation in his arms snapped him back to reality.
He looked down, only to find himself staring into two gaping, bloody maws lined with sharp teeth.
And the owners of these terrifying maws were...
Two worms.
The slight awe he had felt toward Song Yao instantly transformed into pure, primal terror from the depths of his soul.
“Aaaaaahhhhh!!”
“Worms! Aaaaaahhhhh!”
“I hate worms the most!!!”
His face turned deathly pale in an instant. With a violent shudder, he flung the two worms away like hot potatoes.
The snowy white worms drew parabolas in the air and landed on the ground with two wet splats.
In the next second, they actually turned around and began crawling slowly toward Ning Zhou again, raspy words croaking from their throats.
“Hungry... hungry... hungry...”
Ning Zhou felt like he was about to explode. Covered in goosebumps, he retreated frantically. “Aaaah, get away! Don't come near me!”
Unfortunately, the other worms also seemed to realize that there was a great source of nourishment here, and they began converging on him one after another.
Their plump bodies arched and fell on the ground, leaving behind trails of wet, sticky slime.
“Hungry...”
“So hungry...”
Ning Zhou felt as if his soul had been frightened right out of his body.
He backed away repeatedly amidst the flashing blades and shadows, his back soon hitting the base of the wall. There was nowhere left to run.
The worms drew closer and closer. The nearest few had already crawled to his feet, tilting up their heads—which were entirely consumed by their giant maws—and snapping them open and closed as if waiting to be fed.
Even more terrifyingly, several worms suddenly arched their bodies and lunged straight at him.
“Aaaaaahhhhh!”
Ning Zhou threw two blind punches with his eyes shut.
The wind of his fists, infused with spiritual energy, struck the two worms lunging at his face dead-on.
The worms were sent flying backward, crashing into the opposite wall and exploding with a wet pop.
Green slime splattered all over the wall, dripping down in a sticky mess and releasing a sickening, rancid stench.
However, the moment the worms died, the cultivators who were being beaten down by the Bishui Sword suddenly shifted their targets. Ignoring their wounds, a frenzied light erupted in their eyes as they shrieked hysterically, “The children! How dare you hurt the children!”
The citizens in the courtyard also went wild.
Those gaunt, frail men and women somehow found the strength to stumble and charge toward Ning Zhou.
Ning Zhou managed to squint open one eye. Seeing the overwhelming tide of people and worms surging toward him, his legs turned to jelly, and his voice cracked in terror. “Why is it always me?!”
Song Yao neatly tucked her notebook away and glanced in his direction.
The Bishui Sword hummed at her side, its blade vibrating before shooting forward as a streak of green light.
The sword light swept out like a bolt of silk, forming a barrier in front of Ning Zhou and knocking back both the people and the worms surging toward him.
Ning Zhou: “!!”
Holy mother of God.
Just what cultivation level was Lin Mu at?
Having completed its task, the Bishui Sword traced a beautiful arc in the air and returned to its sheath.
Song Yao landed beside Ning Zhou, tilting her head to look at him. “You're awake? Done babysitting?”
Ning Zhou's legs were still shaking. For once, he didn't bicker with her, his voice trembling on the verge of tears. “I'm awake, I'm awake! What on earth is going on here?”
He looked down at his hands, which were covered in green slime, and then felt his arms, which had noticeably shrunk. His expression went from terror to complete despair. “Wait... where did my muscles go?”
Song Yao fished out a handful of Fire-Driving Talismans from her spatial pouch and stuffed them into his hands. “Forget about your muscles for a second. Here.”
Ning Zhou blinked. “Here for what?”
Song Yao chin-gestured toward the courtyard filled with worms and collapsed, unconscious people. “Burn this place down.”
Ning Zhou: “...The—the people too? Do we burn Sixth Senior Brother too?”
Rate on N.U.
