Chương 409: Corruption?

The eighth stage cultivator, Jin Hao, opened with a technique I recognized as "Molten Spear Barrage," launching dozens of lava projectiles with enough force to punch through steel. A normal Wei Lin response would have been to activate his fire stall, absorb the thermal energy, and convert it into something useful for a counterattack. Instead, Wei Lin activated his void stall.

His entire left side became translucent, the outline of his body shimmering like heat distortion as the molten spears passed harmlessly through his intangible form. But rather than using the opening for a strategic response, he immediately pressed forward with his black market stall active. Dark, hungry energy surrounded his right hand as he reached for Jin Hao's chest. Not to disable or incapacitate with a clean strike, but to establish contact for energy drainage.

Jin Hao barely managed to retreat, his face paling as he felt the subtle drain on his fire essence. Even the brief contact had siphoned away a noticeable amount of his spiritual energy. But Wei Lin didn't give him space to recover. Lightning from his electrical stall arced between his fingers as he pursued, while void energy made him partially intangible to avoid the defensive barriers Jin Hao was desperately trying to maintain.

Jin Hao spun around and launched a "Flame Wall Technique," creating a barrier of solid fire twenty feet high and ten feet thick. The heat was so intense that the air itself began to distort, and molten droplets fell like rain from the superheated gases above. Wei Lin simply smiled and walked through it. His void stall rendered him completely intangible to the flames, while his fire stall absorbed the thermal energy that tried to affect his corporeal parts.

He emerged from the other side of the wall with his lightning stall already crackling, sending a bolt of converted fire-energy directly at Jin Hao's chest. The impact sent Jin Hao flying backward, his robes smoking from the electrical discharge. He hit an obsidian pillar hard enough to crack it, then slumped to the ground with visible burns across his torso. But Jin Hao wasn't finished.

He pressed his palms against the volcanic ground and began channeling qi directly into the lava flows beneath their feet causing the entire platform began to shake as molten rock prepared to burst upward. Wei Lin's response was to go fully intangible while simultaneously activating his earth stall. He absorbed the seismic energy from the trembling ground, converted it into wind qi, and used the resulting air pressure to propel himself directly at Jin Hao before the eruption could complete.

His hand pressed against Jin Hao's solar plexus just as the lava began to breach the surface. The drainage effect was devastating. Jin Hao's cultivation base, already strained from his desperate techniques, began to hemorrhage spiritual energy into Wei Lin's black market stall. His fire techniques sputtered and died as the fuel for them was literally pulled from his meridians. What worried me wasn't the effectiveness of the technique. It was the expression on Wei Lin's face.

There was satisfaction there, but it wasn't the pleased contentment of a successful business transaction. It was darker, hungrier, like he was genuinely enjoying the process of draining Jin Hao's spiritual energy. His eyes had taken on a slight red tint, and I could see the demonic qi swirling around his aura like living shadows. Jin Hao's face went from pale to ashen as more of his cultivation base was forcibly extracted.

His spiritual pressure, which had been solid eighth-stage level at the beginning of the fight, was dropping toward seventh stage as Wei Lin's technique continued its work.

"I... I surrender!" Jin Hao gasped, his voice barely audible over the volcanic ambient noise.

"I surrender! Please!" For a moment that stretched too long, Wei Lin didn't respond. His hand remained pressed against Jin Hao's chest, the black market stall continuing its extraction.

"Wei Lin!" the referee's voice boomed across the inner world.

"Your opponent has surrendered! Release him immediately!" That seemed to break whatever trance Wei Lin had fallen into. He blinked, and the red tint faded from his eyes as he stepped backward, allowing the demonic drain to dissipate. Jin Hao collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath and clutching his chest where the extraction had taken place.

"Victory to Wei Lin!" the referee announced, though his tone carried a note of concern. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Wei Lin stood over his defeated opponent with an expression I'd never seen before. Even after stopping the technique, there was still that dark satisfaction in his features, like he was disappointed the meal had been interrupted.

The medical team rushed onto the battlefield to attend to Jin Hao, whose cultivation base had been temporarily destabilized but not permanently damaged. He'd recover, but it would take days of careful spiritual cultivation to restore his energy levels to their previous state.

"Master," Azure said quietly, "that doesn't look like the Wei Lin we know." I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the arena's temperature. Azure was right. The Wei Lin I'd traveled with, fought beside, and considered one of my closest friends was methodical and pragmatic, but never cruel. He treated combat like a puzzle to be solved efficiently, not an opportunity to feed on his opponent's spiritual energy.

What I'd just witnessed looked more like a demonic cultivator reluctantly restraining their hunger than a merchant-path practitioner demonstrating superior resource management. My eyes drifted to the Core Disciple viewing section, where I spotted Lin Mei sitting between my parents and Liu Chen. Even from this distance, I could see the tension in her posture. Her hands were clenched in her lap, and she was staring at the screen displaying Wei Lin's victory with obvious concern.

She knew him better than almost anyone. If she was worried, there was definitely something wrong. The portal near the arena floor flashed with returning light, and Wei Lin emerged. He looked physically unharmed, but there was something off about his spiritual pressure. It felt... denser somehow, like he'd absorbed more energy than he'd expended during the fight. I stood up and intercepted him as he headed toward the recovery area.

"Wei Lin," I called out, keeping my voice casual.

"Impressive victory. Though that last technique combination was something I hadn't seen before." He turned to face me, and for just a moment, I caught a glimpse of something foreign in his eyes. Something that reminded me uncomfortably of the corrupted cultivators I'd encountered in the Two Suns world. But then he blinked, and it was gone, replaced by his familiar smile.

"Ah, Ke Yin! You saw that? I was experimenting with some new applications of my stall system. Turns out combining void energy and the black market stall creates some interesting synergies." The words were right, but his tone felt wrong. Too casual, like he was discussing the weather rather than a combat technique that had nearly destabilized his opponent's cultivation base.

"That didn't seem like you," I said carefully.

"Usually you're more... measured in your approach. It looked like you were reluctant to stop when Jin Hao surrendered." Wei Lin's smile faltered slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"The demonic qi," I pressed.

"Is it under control? I know Beyond Heaven cultivation methods can have unexpected effects on personality and decision-making. If there's something—""The demonic qi isn't a problem," Wei Lin interrupted, his voice sharper than usual. Then he seemed to catch himself, and the smile returned.

"I mean, thank you for the concern, but everything's fine. I've got the energy balance completely managed." I studied his face, noting the slight tension around his eyes that hadn't been there before. Demonic qi wasn't technically forbidden by most sects; it was a legitimate form of spiritual energy that appeared naturally in certain environments and could be cultivated like any other element. But there was a reason most cultivators avoided it.

Unlike fire qi or water qi, which followed predictable patterns and could be safely channeled through established meridian pathways, demonic qi was inherently chaotic. It carried traces of negative emotions, unfulfilled desires, and spiritual corruption from whatever source it had originated from. Most importantly, it was addictive in a way that other energy types weren't.

Fire cultivators might develop quick tempers, and ice cultivators might become emotionally distant, but those were gradual personality shifts that happened over decades or centuries. Demonic qi could influence a cultivator's decision-making in real time, whispering suggestions that seemed like their own thoughts until they found themselves acting in ways they'd never normally consider.

The fact that Wei Lin's cultivation method could process and contain demonic qi was impressive from a technical standpoint, but it also meant he was regularly exposing his spiritual essence to that corrupting influence. Even small amounts, properly filtered and contained, could accumulate over time.

"Wei Lin," I said gently, "you know I'm not judging you, right? It's just that demonic qi has a reputation for a reason. Even experienced cultivators sometimes find it more challenging to manage than they initially expected." His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"I said it's not a problem, Ke Yin. I've been cultivating the Merchant's Path for almost a year now, and I understand my own cultivation method better than anyone else. The demonic stall is just one component of a larger system, and the marketplace naturally balances different energy types against each other." That was technically true, but I'd read enough about demonic cultivation to know that balance could shift unexpectedly.

The more demonic qi a cultivator absorbed, the more their threshold for what felt "normal" would adjust. What started as a small voice suggesting slightly more aggressive tactics could gradually escalate into full-blown sadistic impulses that felt completely rational to the affected person. Wei Lin looked around the arena, then back at me.

"I should go recover before the next round. These consecutive battles take more out of you than you'd expect." Before I could respond, he was walking away, moving with the same confident stride he always had. But something about it felt forced, like he was consciously maintaining his normal behavior patterns rather than acting naturally. I watched him disappear into the crowd of competitors and support staff, a growing unease settling in my chest.

Cultivation methods at that level didn't just provide power; they reshaped the practitioner's entire spiritual foundation. Sometimes they reshaped their personality along with it. The Merchant's Path had always been about balance and calculated exchange. But adding a demonic stall to that mix introduced an element that was fundamentally about consumption and corruption. If Wei Lin wasn't careful, if he let that influence grow too strong...

"He could lose himself entirely," I murmured, still staring in the direction he'd gone. The tournament continued around me, but my mind was elsewhere, thinking about my friend and the dark energy I'd seen writhing around his hands. Beyond Heaven cultivation methods were called that for a reason; they transcended normal limitations and offered power that bordered on the divine. But transcendence always came with a price. Sometimes that price was paid in sanity. Sometimes in humanity itself.

I just hoped Wei Lin would recognize the danger before it was too late to turn back.