Chapter 75: The Black Venom Maggot

Without making a single move, Jiang Pingchuan subdued Wu Duo—this was what most people present believed. Jiang Pingchuan had merely walked toward the dueling platform; he had not attacked. Yet the change in Wu Duo on the platform made everyone realize that although Jiang Pingchuan hadn’t struck, Wu Duo was already suffering, blood streaming from his seven orifices.

Wu Duo lay on the dueling platform, eyes wide open as he stared at Jiang Pingchuan. He wanted to stand, but the overwhelming force pressed down on him, making it impossible even to twitch. Seeing Jiang Pingchuan standing before him, Wu Duo’s face flushed with shame—a humiliation so naked and absolute that, before Jiang Pingchuan, he didn’t even have the right to make a move.

“What do you want to say?”

Jiang Pingchuan looked down at Wu Duo. He wasn’t in too miserable a state—only bleeding from the seven orifices. Jiang Pingchuan had endured this himself as a child; he wondered whether the Sword Sect’s master, Luopu, was still alive.

“You’ve cultivated the Shadow of the Dao. You’re not a cultivator from the Changfeng Continent.”

Wu Duo felt the pressure on his body ease somewhat. He looked at Jiang Pingchuan and spoke in a deep voice.

“Heh, you aren’t a cultivator from Changfeng either. Or perhaps, this is a place you should never have appeared.”

Jiang Pingchuan smiled at the astonished Wu Duo. Their voices were low—no one in the audience could hear them. The rest watched anxiously, most concerned about which of the two would die; now, it seemed Wu Duo’s chances were grim.

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

Wu Duo was irritated by Jiang Pingchuan’s words. He was from Changfeng Continent, so Jiang Pingchuan’s insinuation that he wasn’t felt like an accusation—a suspicion that infuriated him most.

“Nonsense? Don’t you really know?”

Jiang Pingchuan crouched, observing Wu Duo’s angry face. Wu Duo’s eyes were dark, his lips purple, hands cracked and smeared with blood—a condition no proper cultivator should exhibit.

“I was born in Eastzhou City of Changfeng Continent, died in...”

Wu Duo stopped mid-sentence, staring at Jiang Pingchuan in disbelief, then looked down at his body, muttering and shaking his head.

“Died where?”

Jiang Pingchuan gently asked the confused Wu Duo, who kept repeating, “Impossible, impossible.” Jiang Pingchuan wasn’t in a hurry; he turned and glanced at Han Ming, who sat on the viewing platform, anger on his face, and smiled faintly.

“I died at Mount Qiyun, I died at Mount Qiyun. I’m already dead? I died? Impossible, impossible!”

Wu Duo’s mind was in chaos. He remembered: he had perished at Mount Qiyun, stricken by backlash and madness while seeking to break through. How could he be here now? His face twisted in horror.

A tearing sound followed.

Wu Duo ripped open his shirt, revealing not a single patch of intact skin. He stared blankly at the stitched flesh on his chest.

Jiang Pingchuan looked at Wu Duo’s chest, where thick, centipede-like stitches ran across the flesh, black blood oozing out in thin trickles. The whole chest heaved as though crawling. Wu Duo trembled, watching Jiang Pingchuan, who after a moment’s thought placed his hand on the dueling platform and struck it.

A booming sound resonated—the whole platform enveloped in purple fog. The spectators were perplexed; the mist obscured their view of the platform, forcing them to wait for someone to fall.

Wu Duo glanced at the fog and gave a bitter laugh, then looked down at his chest again, his bleeding hands trembling. Jiang Pingchuan placed his hand on Wu Duo’s chest, gripped a stitched patch of skin, and began to tear it away.

Wu Duo clenched his fists, gritting his teeth in pain. Jiang Pingchuan tore off a palm-sized piece of human skin and threw it aside, gazing at the uncovered chest, his stomach churning.

Wu Duo’s lips quivered as he looked at his chest—there were no organs left inside. Instead, it was packed with black poison worms, writhing incessantly.

Without skin to contain them, the poison worms squirmed more violently. Many, resembling black grains of sticky rice, spilled onto the platform, crawling and struggling.

Wu Duo lay motionless, his face twisted as his entire body was soon covered by the poison worms emerging from his chest. Jiang Pingchuan watched Wu Duo, who was barely alive.

This was the poison worms devouring their host. Jiang Pingchuan waved his hand, dispersing the purple fog. As the mist faded, the audience saw only Jiang Pingchuan and a writhing heap of black poison worms on the platform—Wu Duo was nowhere to be seen.

“Young master, what’s happened to Wu Duo? What should we do?”

A guard beside Han Ming whispered, watching the platform. Han Ming frowned, stood, and entered the crowd, seeing Wu Duo covered by the worms.

Han Ming found a quiet corner, took out a puppet and a black talisman, and, with a squeeze of his palm, ignited a black ghostly fire on the talisman. He placed the puppet on the ground, caught the talisman’s ashes and swallowed them, then pressed his thumb to the puppet’s head, chanting a complex incantation.

Soon, the puppet glowed with black light; Han Ming’s eyes brimmed with black mist, his lips darkened, his face contorted.

“I assume you all saw it. The winner of this duel is Jiang Pingchuan.”

Lord Gong stood, addressing the prominent figures of Eastzhou City seated beside him in a calm voice. The duel had been uncanny—so strange that it defied all expectations of thunderous spells and dazzling techniques. Jiang Pingchuan had ended this contest, seen as pivotal to Eastzhou City’s fate, with effortless ease.

Jiang Pingchuan felt the eyes of the crowd upon him. He knew he had defeated Wu Duo not with flashy moves but with a mysterious, incomprehensible power that inspired awe in every cultivator present. In their minds, Wu Duo was an invincible peak, but Jiang Pingchuan had crushed him simply by walking forward—he had ascended, stepping over Wu Duo to become the strongest in Eastzhou City.

A roar suddenly erupted from the dueling platform. Everyone’s nerves tightened; the sound came from the writhing black mass on the platform. Jiang Pingchuan paused, looking back at the fallen Wu Duo.

Wu Duo struggled to his feet, mouth agape as the poison worms crawled inside. He roared at Jiang Pingchuan, arms flailing like a starving bear, staggering toward him. His aura surged; the platform was plunged into turmoil, shrouded by thunderous storm clouds.

“What’s going on with Wu Duo? His strength—how is this possible?”

“Mid Foundation Establishment—he’s broken through the highest barrier of Changfeng Continent...”

“How can this be?”

Jiang Pingchuan felt the aura emanating from Wu Duo; his skin was distorted by the force. His white robe shimmered, gradually turning silver, fluttering in the wind of Wu Duo’s power. Wu Duo’s eyes were hollow, crawling with poison worms—he looked like a giant worm himself.

Jiang Pingchuan formed seals with both hands; two square seals appeared on his palms, and he struck Wu Duo with one. Wu Duo offered no defense, letting the seal hit him, grunting as he retreated several steps, shaking off a mass of poison worms. Before Jiang Pingchuan could unleash the second seal, Wu Duo’s speed exploded—he appeared before Jiang Pingchuan and punched him in the chest.

Jiang Pingchuan retreated rapidly, sliding across the floor and coughing violently. A black imprint marked his chest.

Spitting blood, Jiang Pingchuan looked at Wu Duo. Now, Wu Duo’s strength surpassed his own, yet strangely, Wu Duo had no true energy—he had injured Jiang Pingchuan purely by physical force.

Wiping blood from his mouth, Jiang Pingchuan frowned and charged at Wu Duo, purple energy swirling around his fists. He struck Wu Duo, but instead of being knocked back, Wu Duo locked his arms around him, Jiang Pingchuan’s fist still pressed to Wu Duo’s heart. Wu Duo’s face was twisted as he stared at Jiang Pingchuan.

“Kill me, kill me, it hurts so much...”

“Hurry, save me, save me...”

Wu Duo’s hollow eyes looked at Jiang Pingchuan, his mouth buzzing with black poison worms. His tongue had been devoured by them. Jiang Pingchuan nodded.

“Here, here...”

Wu Duo pointed anxiously to his throat, his eyes alternating between confusion and clarity.

Jiang Pingchuan understood that Wu Duo was now being controlled—and the one responsible was Han Ming, who had vanished from the viewing platform.