Moving through the perilous medicine garden, every step felt like dancing on the edge of a blade.
Those once-alluring spirit herbs that glowed with radiant light now appeared to everyone like fanged demons, baring their claws.
They followed closely behind Dustin, avoiding every patch of ground that showed abnormal energy fluctuations. Every nerve was stretched taut to the limit.
At the end of the garden, the mist thickened, and the sound of flowing water grew clearer and nearer.
Finally, as they broke through the last veil of mist that obscured their vision, the scene before them left them breathless.
It was a vast expanse of water—boundless, tranquil as a mirror, shimmering with a dreamlike azure hue.
Dense spiritual energy rolled above the lake, almost tangible, so rich that even a single breath made one’s entire body feel light and invigorated.
The inner strength they had lost in the poisonous mists earlier began to slowly recover.
At the center of the lake, a small island could be faintly seen. Through the drifting fog, the outlines of pavilions and towers emerged, ethereal like an immortal realm.
“The Jade Pool! This must be the Jade Pool!” Qingzhu gasped in excitement, her eyes shining with hope.
Even Old Zhang, who had been sitting numbly in despair, showed a flicker of life in his hollow gaze.
But that sense of divine serenity was marred by what lay near the lakeshore.
The water there was no longer the pristine blue—it had turned into a strange, diluted crimson.
Faint tendrils of sinister, violent energy emanated from the red water, clashing with the lake’s otherwise peaceful spiritual aura, creating an eerie sense of distortion and imbalance.
The soil along the shore shared the same dark-red hue as that of the medicine garden. Twisted, unnatural plants writhed and grew there, exuding the same corrupted aura as the mutated herbs they had encountered earlier.
“Dragon’s blood… Even the Jade Pool hasn’t been spared,” Margaret murmured, gazing at the mingling blue and red, her heart heavy.
Hope lay before her eyes—but even that hope had been stained by the power of the Demonic Dragon.
As the group observed the surroundings, trying to find a way across to the island at the lake’s center, a calm, aged voice suddenly echoed in each of their minds:
“Immeasurable Heavenly Venerable… To have passed so many trials and reached the shores of the Jade Pool—such fortune and resolve are rare indeed.”
Everyone tensed, startled. They turned toward the voice.
On a smooth jade-green rock by the shore, a Daoist sat cross-legged—no one knew when he had appeared there.
It was the same old Daoist they had seen earlier in the bamboo courtyard!
He still wore the same faded robe, hair and beard snow-white, his face thin but serene, eyes deep and tranquil like a still well. He gazed at them calmly, as though he had been waiting for them all along.
His presence was so natural that it felt as if he had always been part of the landscape.
The guards immediately grew tense. A’Long instinctively stepped in front of Margaret, gripping his blade, treating the Daoist as if he were facing a deadly foe.
The old man’s aura was far more profound and unfathomable than any beast they had encountered.
Dustin narrowed his eyes slightly, took a step forward, shielding the others. He cupped his hands respectfully and said, neither humble nor arrogant, “Senior, you have been expecting us. May I ask what guidance you wish to offer?”
The Daoist smiled faintly, brushing his whisk. His gaze swept across the group before settling on Dustin.
“Guidance is too strong a word,” he said with a sigh. “This poor Daoist is called Xuan Chengzi. I have kept watch over this island for countless years. To see a young man who has defeated White Cicada, broken through the Illusion Mirage, and uncovered the secrets of the Medicine Garden… that too must be fate.”
His tone carried no hostility—only weariness, as though he had borne the weight of ages.
Margaret took a graceful step forward and bowed deeply.
“Junior Margaret greets Senior Xuan Chengzi. Since you know who we are, you must also know why we came. I seek the Immortal Elixir to save my dying father. I beg you, Senior, please show mercy and guide us.”
Xuan Chengzi looked at her with faint pity and sighed softly.
“Child, your devotion is admirable. But the ‘Immortal Elixir’ you seek… is not what you imagine it to be.”
He slowly raised a finger, pointing first toward the mist-shrouded island in the middle of the Jade Pool, then toward the crimson-stained water near the shore.
“This place is called Penglai—but it is not a paradise beyond the mortal world, nor a land of immortals.”
“Its true nature… is that of a great seal—one that has existed since ancient times.”
“What it seals… is the very creature you saw depicted in the murals—the Void Dragon, which once sought to devour all life and spirit in this realm.”
“Void Dragon…”
Dustin repeated the name softly, feeling the weight of chaos and destruction it carried.
“Indeed,” Xuan Chengzi said solemnly. “Its power is born of primordial chaos—it corrodes all, twists all life. The undead beasts, the mist spirits, the illusions, even the bloodthirsty herbs you encountered—all are the result of this ancient seal weakening. The dragon’s power has leaked out little by little, tainting the island’s lands and creatures.”
His gaze turned once again toward Margaret, filled with quiet sorrow.
“And the so-called elixir you seek—the one that can raise the dead and heal all wounds—its main ingredient is none other than the Dragonblood Bodhi, formed by absorbing the Void Dragon’s corrupted essence.”
Though she had already suspected as much from the stele in the medicine garden, hearing it confirmed by the island’s guardian still made Margaret’s world spin. Helplessness welled within her heart.
“Senior… are you saying the Immortal Elixir is… a supreme evil?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Xuan Chengzi nodded gravely.
“Indeed. The Dragonblood Bodhi contains both the fiercest vitality and the most sinister malice of the Void Dragon. It may seem to restore flesh and raise the dead—but in truth, it burns the very soul and lifespan of the one who consumes it. Worse, it can corrode the mind, turning the user into a mindless dragon puppet driven only by slaughter.”
“This thing is not a medicine of salvation,” he said solemnly. “It is a charm of death—a poison that destroys the soul.” - Marinien
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