Poison God's Heritage Chapter 304: The Voice

Chapter 304: The Voice

Memories began flooding my mind, they weren't many but that didn't mean they were little.
The kid I'm currently possessing is someone with a rather sad past. A life of humiliation due to his lacking talent, a person who is only an Outer Sect Disciple. Unlike the many, many disciples here, who most if not all had incredible talent, this person was weak, incomparably so.
He was a person who was supposed to be engaged to one of the most beautiful girls in this sect, the daughter of the Sect Master himself. Due to the friendship between his father and the sect master the engagement happened before he was even born.
This might seem like a pretty good back story for this kid but it only gets worse.
His talent in cultivation was not bad though, he was able to climb to the Nascent Soul by the age of sixteen, but never seemed to be able to gain 'power' from his rise in cultivation.
He never knew why, whenever he would wake up, he would immediately feel lethargic and exhausted as if he had walked a thousand miles.
He would never know why, whenever he seemed to be able to gain enlightenment in something, it would happen as if suddenly his eyes were forced shut and his knowledge was taken away from him.
Whenever he learned something, he would lose his ability to do it again and will be forced to learn anew.
And due to this severe lack of 'understanding' of things, he was ridiculed, made fun of, and bullied into suicide even. As it was clear from what he was attempting before he died.
He was almost beaten to death many times over, and the scars on his body are pure proof of it. He was bullied by the son of the Right Hand of the Sect Master, the one who is considered to become the heir of the sect. A person who was envious of this kid, and decided to take the woman that he was engaged to away from him just out of spite.
The kid, with everything he ever worked hard for taken away from him, tried to change his whole cultivation in its entirety by turning it into the Demonic Path. Not that it was something new as many do switch to the Demonic Path since it offers great powers. However, the means he tried to do so were nothing if not self-murder.
Trying to practice a cultivation technique two entire realms above yourself is not the way to go.
His death was obvious… and it seems that I'll be dealing with the aftermath of his foolishness.
This was probably the most boring, boorish, cliché, and most used plot I have ever seen. Hell I could even make a story out of his misery, but… this is not a story what this kid suffered was nothing but reality and he died trying to change his reality.
I misjudged him for being weak because if he was weak, he'd slit his wrist. No, he tried to do the impossible, even if it is the same, trying to change for the better while risking your life is far better than outright ending it. For that, you gained a bit, just a bit of respect from me.
The only way this kid would have gained real respect from me as if he had actually fought and found a way to gain power without this absurd planless pointless risk of one's life. Think before you act, and don't risk your life in things you're not sure you can pull off.
I headed down the mountain slowly, wounded still, so I needed to heal my body up first.
I began by scanning the area around me as I was walking down the mountain, detecting many herbs that could be used to help me make a few pills to cure some of the wounds and stabilize this growing headache I'm having.
I placed everything I collected within the kid's storage bag, it was a small bag and had a few things. Some low-quality pills, a small old cauldron. A few rotten herbs and an old sword that seemed to be nicked and was a single heavy blow away from breaking to bits.
After collecting what I deemed enough and necessary herbs for my healing, I continued my climb down the mountain, it wasn't easy with all the wounds, but I was in a far worse situation before so this was practically refreshing.
Once I arrived to the base of the mountain, I looked up ahead. There was a vast open field in front of me that extended for several miles before it ended at the base of a massive natural rock formation.
The rocks were like small sharp mountains that surrounded a vast area of the land up ahead. They looked like walls that held an entire city inside them.
And looking at the base of the two most prominent towering rocks, there was a massive sign.
"Ancient Sect"
The sect where this kid belonged to was right behind that sign and I headed there.
Once I arrived to the gate, I was met with two disciples who seemed to be guarding the gate.
"Ling Cao, why are you back? Didn't the young master kick you out of the sect?" one of the guards said as he pointed at me with a spear.
"He is not the sect master, nor is he an elder, he has no right to kick me off the sect, piss off," I spoke back to the disciple at the gate, and he clearly didn't like it.
Just as he was about to come at me with his spear, the second disciple stopped him.
"Stop, there is no need, if the Young Master finds him, he'll kill him himself, you'll only dirty your hand and get in trouble for it."
The first disciple scoffed and moved away from the gate allowing me entry.
I could still remember the place where this kid named Ling Cao used to live.
By the grace of the Sect Master, he was given a good palace within the sect, however, it was also taken away from him. So he is now thrown among the outer sect disciples.
He no longer has the ability to enter the inner sect, and can only stay in the outer sect.
The difference between inner and outer is vast. From the memories, I could infer from this kid's mind.
Outer sect disciples are usually delegated to gathering materials such as logs, herbs and water, cleaning houses, and more, then they're given a small allowance of pills and mediocre manuals of cultivation.
Only when they prove themselves capable of learning fast, improving themselves, and able to use one of the sect's fundamental cultivation techniques will they be allowed entry to the inner sect.
The cultivation technique wasn't even something difficult, hell, if I didn't know any better I already know it.
It was, surprisingly, the movement technique that the old man had taught me.
Now everything seemed to fit together…
I can use it right now since it's knowledge I took with me and not something like a tool, so I could immediately use the movement technique, yet, I know something was not right before I even tried it.
The moment I try it, I know that it will also be taken away. And like hell, if I were to allow that to happen. So, I decided against trying it out for now and headed to where the kid I'm possessing is currently living in.
My feet led me to a few shacks all the way at the back of the mountain this was where the Outer Sect Disciples lived, and the kids was the farthest away from these shacks. The shacks didn't look too shabby however, his was rundown and looked like it was riddled with rodents and rats. The interior was full of insects and the bed was laced with flees.
Quite a disgusting place.
I walked inside the shack and closed the door. There didn't seem to be any outer sect disciples who would come here. No one would actually, this place was filthy, it was so filthy that it wouldn't even be used to shit in.
The bugs and rodents were abundant and you could see them walking right next to you, the rats themselves didn't seem to have fear of the person who owned this body as I could swear some of them had a mocking look on their faces as they feasted on remains of food while looking at me.
"What a shitty sitting…"
I took a breath and spat out a powerful gust of poison that penetrated through every nook and cranny of the shack, killing off every single critter and litter in the place.
"Much better," I muttered as the gust of poison kept moving around in the house.
I then went to the bed and decided not to even sit there, it looked too filthy for that.
"Well then, how about we start…" I muttered to myself and pulled the sword that was inside the bag.
Just as I pulled the sword, I placed my left hand on the table, and raised my other hand with the sword high, "Off you go," I muttered and struck down with the sword against my hand as powerfully as I could.
…
The sword in my right hand never was able to cut my left hand as the left hand shot up and stopped me.
"Who are you?" spoke a cold, vicious and angry voice.
"Funny, I was about to ask you the same," I said smiling.