Poison God's Heritage

Chapter 489 Sword Spirit

?

And in a matter of hours, the entire region where the two fought was turned into a desolate, disastrous, and calamitous region of death and decay. Poison rose up to the high heavens and seeped into the ground, forever making it infertile and corrupt. More Poison then rose to the high skies, mixed in with pure clouds, and changed them to heralds of death as they rained ruin and destruction upon the soil. 

The final victor of the battle was the young man, only he had lost too much energy and blood in this fight. Bloodied, battered, and on the brink of death, still the young man won, even after the fight had lasted for months. The biggest issue for the young man was the realization that the arts of the Poison God were too potent and they imposed a great strain upon the body and mind of the man judged.

He was in a weakened state and needed to rest before he would begin to even understand the sword he fought so hard to obtain. But one thing remained in his mind, the true price of power. Though the sword was mighty and powerful, the young man still emerged victorious, though the enemy was strong, the young man still prevailed, a great testament to his newly created art, and a confirmation of his newfound strength. But there was a price to pay for having so much power. It is one's own arrogance and hubris if one were to think they may rule to the world with such power.

Thus he thought he needed to separate his art into doctrines instead of using everything at once. The doctrines will split his knowledge into equal parts, each part will be dedicated to a specific branch of his arts. And each branch will be mighty and strong on its own. This way he will be able to leave his heritage if he were to die, not for one to gain all the power, but for many to learn from it, and understand the need to not be greedy in this world.

While he was thinking about all of this, in the middle of an almost desolate and dead plane of this planet, the woman who asked him to take the sword arrived, faking concern and worry, for her to approach the critically wounded young man, with words sweeter than honey she spoke to him in order to lower his guard, and soon after he looked away, she stabbed the man in the back.

Surprised at the betrayal, the young man looked in a stunned stupor as the woman greedily took the sword, her eyes glistening in victory and conquest as she raised it up high and declared herself the new ruler of this world.

Since the only one who was ever capable of killing the former lord was the young man, and now that the young man is breathing his last, she will have no one to stop her. Long are gone the days where she was nothing but a concubine at the mercy of her master, and now she promises to deliver untold pain and misery upon those who had wronged her, taking vengeance for her aggrieved self and at the same time, ruling the world with a fist of steel.

Yet, what she never knew was that the man with the Poison God's Heritage wasn't someone who would die with a mere stab. This further confirmed the young man's ideas and understanding, too much power corrupts, not only for the woman who betrayed to obtain power but even for him when he used the Arts of Death, a mere branch of his ingenious Poison Arts, the young man's flesh was instantly healed back as he revived completely fine right next to the still dreaming woman, who was too absorbed in the glory and glow of the sword to even notice when the young man's hand had already grabbed and twisted her neck to the side. He ended her life while her eyes still looked to the future that would never come. 

This whole world was brought to its ruin by a mere sword the man thought, this was the price of power he thought. And my arts were strong enough to contend with this sword.

Too much power is bound to corrupt, and thus he confirmed the other time. He needed to separate his knowledge in different doctrines and make sure that no one besides the unworthy was to ever obtain such knowledge of death and destruction.

The man left the planet and headed out back to the vast expanse. Rumors of his possession of a mighty sword began spreading, and soon many a foe and ally came to him, some seeking protection, and some seeking triumph, the young man armed with his mighty arts and the mighty sword was a force to be reckoned with. He earned the respect and the fear of everyone around him, some from afar as the lords of the vast expanse themselves, and some close to be friends and who he had thought to become family. Yet the young man continued to strive to reach his ideals. To give too much power to one person is unfair. And will lead to much destruction. 

The experienced many setbacks and even more confrontations and challenges, but with his arts and with the sword as his companion he brought many to their knees and made himself known through the vast expanse as the worst plague to ever impact it.

Du Shen, The Poison God. That was his name, and that was the name he'll ever be remembered with. The man who made the entire Vast Expanse shake at the mere mention of his name. The man who could contend with the Primordial Beast, the man who annihilated an entire cultivation planet for a woman. The man who had the Wind King cut off one of his arms just to appease him.

Years down the line, the Poison God realized that his life will end long before he could obtain all the keys of the Vast Expanse. And thus, his heritage must survive. If he couldn't do it, one of his own must. Because when he dies and without this great power of his, there is no way for them to survive the Real World outside the Vast Expanse.

Once the gate opens, they need a bastion of hope, a mighty figure to lead, protect and confront those who jailed them in this small world.

And thus he roamed the Vast Expanse, finding elven disciples. Each with a talent of their own and fitting to this man's doctrines.. He taught them, raised them and aided their growth and prospects, he had them learn and understand the path of poison, and made them into the greatest force of youths, the mightiest followers, The Poison God's apostles.

He called them his apostles, but the world called them his Acolytes.

Each of them had a title of their own and each of them had great might in the vast expanse.

Yet these elven children soon became corrupt with power, the very arts they learned brought them closer to the path of evil, they deviated from the teachings of the Poison God, each trying to consume the other to gain more might and power.

The Poison God watched in arid horror as his disciples, even with a fraction of his full teachings were straying away from his ideals.

Each fought one another for their books, because only when having all the books can one be as mighty as Du Shen. They all wanted to be what they couldn't, they all wanted to have what they didn't. They all sought the books and in accordance, the lives of their fellow students.

The Poison God watched as his disciples were killing one another and, in his rage at the idiocy, foolishness and vileness of his own disciples, he chased, hunted and ended each and every one of them. He then ripped their souls, sealed each in a book and forced them to become teachers for the next generation of cultivators.

For them to never be incarnated again, for them to become wardens and prisoners of the very books they used to hold, for them to forever be trapped as nothing but tools for other more worthy disciples to wield the different paths of poison.

Du Shen then hid these books all over the world, and made sure that whenever one of the books was revealed and their owner were to die, that the books will always find a way back to their original caves.

And thus, for all eleven disciples they each became guardians of the books.

Yet only one book remained without a guardian.

And it was the book of swords. Du Shen never found one worthy enough to carry the sword. And thus he looked and looked.

Even the most auspicious of talents fell far too short of the required level that Du Shen wanted.

They were all subpar, either in martial arts, talent, or attitude. None checked all three boxes for Du Shen. Afraid that an unworthy person was going to obtain this sword after his passing, Du Shen decided to seal this very sword inside the twelfth book, for no one to ever grab or obtain it, sealed away for one purpose, that even if by some chance someone manages to obtain all the other eleven books, they'll never obtain the twelfth.

And from then on, all of his twelve books, only eleven were discovered, and the twelfth remained hidden in a faraway place for a long time.

Ages went by, years, centuries then eons. Before a man came out of an inconspicuous cave somewhere far away in the depth of the vast expanse, this man had in his hand a book.

The man's entire appearance was glistening and glowing, the same as that ore. And when this man looked at a mirror, he saw a sword at first, a slim sword with one edge and the tip of an arrow. And soon, the appearance of the sword changed to mimic that of Du Shen.