Extra26
patreon
Dao of money Chapter 110
🕑 Added 2025-05-06 20:48:31 +0000 UTCChapter 110
Chen Ren had expected a lot of things to be in the vault.
With everything he’d read and the boundless greed that pulsed in his soul—his Dao of Money—his imagination had gone wild. He’d imagined and hoped for ancient manuals, floating swords forged in the era of celestial warlords, maybe even a blade once wielded by a nascent stage cultivator with a kill count high enough to earn a seat in hell.
And maybe those things were here. At the back of the vault, among scattered piles of gold coins, there were weapons and scrolls—items that radiated a faint pressure even from a distance. But Chen Ren barely spared them a glance.
Because in the center of the vault, resting on a black stone pedestal, was a severed head. Its eyes were closed. Its hair was long and unmoving. It sat upright.
Chen Ren stopped walking.
His thoughts, his greed, his expectations—everything screeched to a halt as his eyes locked onto that single grotesque object.
“What’s a severed head doing here?” he asked aloud, reading the question everyone had on their faces and breaking the awkward silence. He turned toward Anji. “Is that the inheritance? I didn’t know the Void Blade Sect practiced necromancy… or whatever this is.”
Anji frowned. “No. My father never mentioned anything like this. If I knew, I would’ve warned you.” She stared at the head and grimaced. “It’s gross.”
“At least it’s not bleeding,” Hong Yi offered dryly. “Could it be some sort of final guardian?”
Yalan scoffed and flexed her paws. “I’d love to see a head try to fight me.”
Chen Ren stepped forward, keeping his eyes on the head.
“Careful,” Anji warned.
“I am being careful,” Chen Ren replied. “But we need to figure out what this is. A severed head sitting in the middle of a treasure vault makes no sense unless there’s a reason. I don’t think it’s just a corpse.”
“You think it’s alive?” Hong Yi asked and squinted his eyes, probably seeing if there was any sort of movement.
“Well, I’m guessing. But it’s either alive or an artifact. It looks too fresh to just be a decoration. And honestly, if it's an artifact that shoots energy beams at enemies, I won't complain. But for now, I'm tipping toward it being alive.”
He turned to Yalan. “Can you check if it has a soul?”
Yalan nodded. “Sure, but I doubt a severed head can store—” She stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes widened just slightly, lips parting—but no sound came out.
That was enough of an answer.
Chen Ren instinctively took a step back, a shiver crawling up his spine. First, a demonic cultivator. Now, a living severed head. It was like the heavens themselves were trying to mess with him.
Yalan exhaled slowly. “It’s alive.”
“I was afraid of that,” Chen Ren muttered.
“I don’t know how,” she continued. “I’ve never seen a soul gathered on top of someone’s head instead of their chest. But it’s there. Weak. Broken into pieces. One fragment’s keeping him alive… the rest must be tied into some kind of soul-binding technique. Maybe more than one.”
At her words, the atmosphere inside the vault shifted. Hong Yi looked visibly uncomfortable, like he was ready to bolt for the exit. Anji too seemed on edge, though she clenched her fists, reminding herself of why they were here.
Chen Ren shared their unease, but he forced himself to stay calm. If he wavered, they all would. He was their leader now—by choice and circumstances—and it was his job to make decisions.
“Can he be dangerous?” he asked Yalan, not moving his eyes off the head.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Most cultivation techniques require a full body. He’s missing… well, everything below the neck. At most, he might be able to use a utility technique through his eyes. A glare, maybe, or soul pressure if he’s got something really weird. But I don’t feel any cultivation. No dantian, no flow. He can’t gather qi. So we’re safe.”
Chen Ren nodded, relieved that they weren’t about to start another fight. “Good. One cursed freak per day is enough.”
Then he turned to the others and clapped his hands once. “Alright, the head’s sleeping. Let’s not disturb him. Yalan, Hong Yi—help me loot the vault. There’s a lot at the back, and I’m not leaving empty-handed.”
He pulled out two small spatial rings, tossing one to each of them. “Found these on the Blazing Ember Sect cultivators. They're reset after death, so I’ve already emptied them. Should be good to use.”
Finally, he looked at Anji. “You focus on finding the inheritance while I get everything out, okay?”
Anji nodded, and Chen Ren found himself quietly relieved. Nothing had changed in their agreement. She would get the inheritance, and he would get everything else. He was curious about what exactly that inheritance was, of course, but he knew he’d find out soon enough. Being here meant he would witness it anyway.
They moved deeper into the vault, and for a brief moment, Chen Ren simply stood there—taking it all in. Gold coins. A sea of them.
The empire had stopped using them as official currency generations ago. But the gold market still burned hot among rogue sects, merchants, and traveling cultivators. To them, gold was weight, certainty, and value. And now, he had a treasure trove of it. Enough to buy a city, maybe even a small noble house’s loyalty.
Still, as tempting as it was, his gaze moved on.
His eyes drifted to the rack of weapons lining the wall. Axes, spears, swords, curved blades, glaives—they all radiated faint spiritual pressure. Some were clean and gleaming, others dusted with time. Spirit artifacts, without a doubt. And judging by the craftsmanship, inlaid runes, and reinforced cores, more than a few of them were likely Earth-grade.
He let out a low whistle. Then he looked at the manuals.
Scrolls and books stacked neatly in iron-crate shelves—most bearing the crest of the Void Blade Sect. Technique names jumped out at him as he picked them up: [Void Displacement], [Blade of the Empty Heavens], [Void of a Thousand Nights]. They read like core techniques. Sect secrets, no doubt. He almost felt guilty for taking them. Almost.
But the sect was gone. The legacy was shattered. If no one claimed these, they would rot here in silence. Better to let them breathe through new wielders. Even if his sect didn't have void element cultivators, Yalan might be able to help modify them. Or he could trade them.
Knowledge, after all, was currency too.
To his side, Hong Yi was bent over a container filled with dark metals that shimmered faintly under the vault’s light. They looked like obsidian—but not quite. They had a silvery gleam running beneath the black, like frozen moonlight embedded in stone.
Rare metals. Valuable. Probably rare materials for Earth grade spirit weapons.
Yalan was busy too, crouched beside a shelf of pill pouches and dried herbs. She picked through them with a discerning eye and wary paws. Chen Ren noticed none of them had decayed. Preservation arrays, clearly. Some ancient formations had been working silently for centuries… all in their favor.
He moved to another shelf and kept sorting: dried beast meat—possibly from spiritual beasts, old armor pieces that still shimmered faintly with enchantment, another pile of techniques, and then—Spatial rings.
A full box of them.
His breath caught as he picked through them, and then his fingers paused on one in particular. Simple in design, no ornamentation—but when he probed it with his qi, it felt… endless. Like looking into the sky at night. The space inside was massive, far beyond what the rings he had allowed. A Sky-grade storage ring. Empty. Untouched.
His hands trembled slightly as he slid it on. With care, he filled it with his qi to bind it, then began transferring nearby items into the ring one by one, testing to make sure it held.
Hong Yi and Yalan noticed. They turned, watching him with raised brows, and Chen Ren smiled. He pulled out two more large rings and tossed them their way. “Here. Use these. They’re bigger. Let’s split the haul—better than putting everything in one place.”
Hong Yi caught his ring and stared at it like it was a divine artifact. “By the heavens…” he murmured, eyes wide with childlike glee. “This alone could make me a guest elder in half the empire. It’s Earth grade.”
Yalan gave hers a once-over and nodded approvingly.
And for a moment, despite the eerie presence of the head behind them and the silence of a long-dead sect, the vault felt like a dream come true.
Anji’s voice broke the quiet hum of looting.
“I think I need some help.”
Chen Ren turned immediately, dusting his hands as he walked over to her. “What happened? I thought you were looking for your inheritance.”
“I am,” she said, looking around with a furrowed brow. “That’s the thing. I’ve searched everywhere. It’s not here.”
Chen Ren raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean not here? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know,” Anji replied, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. “But I’ve gone through every section—behind the weapon racks, near the pedestals, even under the coin piles. There’s no sign of it. Nothing remotely like an inheritance.”
That was when Hong Yi approached, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You’re supposed to be looking for a glowing stone,” he said. “It’s called an inheritance crystal. Should look like a chunk of soul jade, kind of. When you touch it, all the knowledge and techniques stored inside pour straight into your mind. That’s how I got my puppet master legacy.”
Anji shook her head. “There’s nothing like that here. No glowing stones, no soul jades, no hidden compartments. I checked everything twice.”
Chen Ren frowned, glancing around the room. Despite all the treasure, despite all the artifacts, manuals, and rings—they hadn’t seen anything like a crystal. And in his own thorough search, he would have noticed something that obvious.
“Could it be somewhere else?” he asked, thinking aloud. “Maybe this room’s a decoy? A distraction, meant to make any intruders focus here while the real inheritance is hidden deeper in the vault?”
Anji looked uncertain, but shook her head slowly. “No. It can’t be that. My father was very clear. The inheritance was sealed in the main vault. This is the only chamber that fits the description. If it exists—it should be right here.”
Footsteps echoed softly on the stone as Yalan approached, her tail swaying behind her. She had just finished clearing out an entire section of the vault, and the spatial ring gleamed faintly where she had fitted it to the tip of her tail—It looked cute, Chen Ren had to admit.
“What’s this inheritance about?” she asked, pausing beside them. When no one spoke, she added, “If we know what it is exactly, we might have better luck locating it. Anji, by now you should trust us. We’re bound by oath. None of us are going to steal it from you.”
Anji seemed hesitant at first, her eyes distant, as though weighing the weight of the truth against the silence she’d carried for a long time. Then, slowly, she let out a breath.
“It’s an inheritance related to soul cultivation,” she said quietly. “A way to reach immortality… not through the nine realms of cultivation, but by growing the soul itself. Strengthening it, refining it—until it becomes undying.”
She looked at each of them as she spoke, like she was letting go of a truth held alone forever. Chen Ren had never heard of anything like that before. Cultivation, as he understood it, was rooted in the body. In dantian, meridians, the manipulation of qi, the pursuit of realms like foundation establishment, core formation, domain manifestation—and so on. The soul? It was part of the package, sure, but no one trained it.
He turned to glance at Hong Yi and Yalan, and their reactions told him just how serious this was. Hong Yi was staring at Anji like he had never truly seen her before. His usual aloofness vanished, replaced by something close to awe.
And Yalan—stoic, cynical Yalan—had gone still. Her tail flicked once, the fur along her spine raised. Her eyes were wide. It wasn’t often that something shocked her.
Chen Ren frowned, curiosity piqued. “Okay… but what is soul cultivation? I’ve never even heard of it.”
Before Yalan could answer, Hong Yi spoke up. Even his voice was low, as if something had spooked him. “It’s supposed to be a legend. About a cultivator who couldn’t progress past qi refinement realm. Too untalented. But instead of giving up, he found a way to bypass it. To cultivate his soul directly. Said he entered something called the soul realm. But most people think it’s nonsense—because no one’s ever proven its existence.”
“It’s not a myth,” Anji said, shaking her head. “It’s real. My sect is proof of it. Every Void Blade Sect leader practiced soul cultivation. It amplified their strength far beyond what their realm suggested. They could tear through cultivators in higher stages without breaking a sweat.”
“But that’s impossible,” Hong Yi said, brows furrowed. “If that were real, it would’ve spread—”
“It does exist,” Yalan cut in firmly.
Both men turned to look at her. Hong Yi blinked. “It… does?”
She nodded. “I can see souls. Not naturally—it’s a technique I learned a long time ago. I won’t go into how I got it, but the manual itself said the technique originated from a school of soul cultivation. One of the earliest ever recorded.”
She paused, something like regret passing across her face.
“Unfortunately, I was never able to find more on it. No follow-ups, no lineage, no other manuals… Until today.”
Everyone turned toward Anji again.
She nodded slowly. “The Void Blade Sect was one of the first sects to research soul cultivation after it began spreading in whispers. It started with our founder, centuries ago. But the truth of it—how to use it, what it really meant—was never shared widely. Only the sect leader was allowed to gain the knowledge of it. Even then, not every leader succeeded.”
Chen Ren tilted his head. “Why? What makes it so hard to learn?” Anji met his eyes. “Because you need a very strong soul to cultivate it. If your soul isn’t stable—if there are fractures, or weaknesses—it’ll collapse. You could end up crippled, or worse. Cultivation realms doesn’t matter. A core formation expert could fail just as easily as a foundation establishment one.”
She looked down briefly, her voice softening.
“Even my father… he only managed to learn one or two techniques. And he was the strongest man I’ve ever known.”
As Anji finished speaking, something clicked in Chen Ren’s mind.
He replayed her words, her story—what little she’d told him before. About being chosen as the next heir to the Void Blade Sect. About being adopted by the sect leader despite being a mortal at the time. That wasn’t normal. Not in a world ruled by bloodlines and cultivation potential. There could only be one explanation now.
“I’m guessing,” Chen Ren said slowly, “soul cultivation can be used even by mortals.”
Anji glanced at him, a little surprised. Then she gave a slow nod. “Yes. Everyone has a soul. That’s all it needs. Having cultivation helps—mostly for perception and stability—but in the end, it’s about the soul. Nothing else.”
Chen Ren hummed, thoughts racing. So that’s why. Her father must have seen something. Her soul… it must be strong. Strong enough to risk giving her a legacy that they had hidden for so long.
He looked at her with a new sense of respect. But for now, admiration could wait. They still hadn’t found the inheritance. And yet, now that he knew what they were looking for, where to look became obvious.
His gaze shifted to the middle of the room.
The severed head still sat on its pedestal. But Yalan had sensed it—there was still soul inside. And she was already staring at it again. Their eyes met.
No words were needed. They both turned to Anji.
“We need to try the head,” Chen Ren said.
Anji blinked. “The… head?”
He nodded. “If the inheritance is about soul cultivation—and that thing is still alive, soul intact—then he would know. His soul is fractured, but it’s still bound to the body. There’s a reason he’s still here. A reason he was placed in the vault, surrounded by all this.”
Yalan hummed, tail flicking behind her. “It lines up. The soul isn’t natural—it’s suppressed in the top of his head. Someone left it here for a purpose.”
Anji looked at the head, clearly uncomfortable. “So… you want to wake it up?”
“I don’t think he’s dangerous,” Chen Ren said. “If it was dangerous, we would have realised it. He’s just a head in the end. We’re not trying to fight him, just… speak. Try to find out what he knows.”
Anji took a breath, still clearly uneasy with the idea. “And how do we… wake up a severed head?”
Comments
Kelsey
Answer: carefully.
