Ninety divine abilities.
Fang Han's heart throbbed with exhilaration. Ninety. With the Nine Ghost Immortal Souls refined, he would be only a hair's breadth from the legendary Yellow Springs Emperor—who commanded ninety-nine.
"Once I assimilate these Nine Ghost Souls, I'll be unmatched beneath the Longevity Realm. The strongest mortal cultivator alive."
He immersed himself in the study of the Ghost Emperor's cultivation. The thirty-four divine abilities hidden in the Nine Ghost Immortal Souls were all top-tier ghost-path arts—and none overlapped with his own.
The Ghost Emperor had walked the path of pure demonic sorcery, steeped in yin, resentment, and malevolent spirits. Fang Han's powers, on the other hand, were a patchwork—cultivation from the Taiyi Sect, dao of the stars, illusion arts, prayer arts, and the Five Emperors Demon Divine Ability, which was demonic in name but fundamentally rooted in the pure, cosmic rule of the five elements.
Still, his arsenal was chaotic.
And Yan, ever the cold splash of water, made sure he remembered it.
"Don't get excited too quickly," Yan said, sensing Fang Han's swelling confidence. "The Yellow Springs Emperor's ninety-nine divine abilities were supreme-class—each one part of a unified legacy. Together they formed the Great Reincarnation Cycle, flawless and pure, mirroring the laws of heaven and earth."
"You, on the other hand… Star-dao, blessings, illusions, demon arts—all thrown together. Many contradict one another. If the Five Emperors Demon Divine Ability weren't anchoring your entire system, you would've long ago lost control and died."
Yan's tone sharpened.
"When you reach the Longevity Realm, you must refine your path from the ground up. Cut away the unnecessary abilities and seal them into artifacts. Only then will your Dao become pure."
Fang Han nodded. He understood this better than anyone.
His foundation was a half-built tower—magnificent in appearance, but held together by looted arts, stolen insights, and raw devouring. It was enough to blast his way into the Longevity Realm… but after that, the road would no longer tolerate shortcuts.
The Longevity Realm itself had ten layers.
Each demanded comprehension of natural law.
And at that level, plundering became useless.
He would eventually need to forge his own path—just as Linglong Immortal Venerable had done, creating her own supreme divine ability.
But that was a problem for a future Fang Han.
For now, he needed only one thing:
accumulation.
More divine abilities. More foundation. More raw force.
No hesitation. No confusion.
Eighteen years of training inside the Taiyuan Immortal Mansion had carved this clarity into his bones.
"Let's take a closer look at what divine abilities the Nine Ghost Immortal Souls actually contain." Fang Han reached out toward the abyssal gate. "Blackghost King—you're familiar with ghost-dao. Come help analyze them. As for Yan… that old dragon can't help with this one."
With a flick of his hand, Fang Han drew the Blackghost King into the Abyss Gate.
For the first time, Blackghost King saw the suppressed remnant of the Ghost Emperor—his senior by two thousand years, a legendary name in the Yellow Springs Demon Sect—now pinned and helpless under Fang Han's control.
A cold dread seeped into his bones.
If a figure as fearsome as the Ghost Emperor could end like this, what chance did he have of resisting?
"The Ghost Emperor's Nine Ghost Immortal Souls," Blackghost King began cautiously, "were forged in the deepest underworld, within the Great Nether Demonic Mist. He cultivated there for five hundred years, survived countless calamities, and condensed thirty-four ghost-dao divine abilities. The core is the Five-Element Demon Ghost Art."
He paused.
"This technique is a derivative of your Five Emperors Demon Divine Ability—altered, but terrifying. It requires the five elemental essences… blended with the souls, rage, and bloodlust of millions of living beings. The result becomes five life-bound demon ghosts that can devour mortal souls to grow."
"Oh? So it's built on murder." Fang Han's brows lowered. The method was soaked in blood—unsurprising for the demonic path.
He might be ruthless, but he had never slaughtered innocents for power. Such acts offended the heavens themselves.
That was the difference between him and true demons.
Blackghost King, however, spoke without the slightest shame. "In the demonic path, slaughter is cultivation. Kill a hundred and you become a ghost. Kill ten thousand and you're a demon. Kill a million and you're a demon emperor. Kill a hundred million—then you become a true fiend."
His voice carried the cold weight of personal experience. He had killed far too many innocents in his lifetime.
Fang Han's tone hardened.
"From today on, you follow my rules. No killing innocents to refine magic. If you dare break this, neither I nor the Yuhua Sect will tolerate you."
Blackghost King lowered his head immediately. "Understood, sect master."
"Good. Now list the other divine abilities."
Blackghost King complied, naming them one by one.
Ghost Soul Energy Arts.
Secret Demon Yin Thunder.
Whitebone Soul-Chasing Hand.
Hungry Ghost Devour-Spirit Spell.
Blackfiend Mudra.
Ten-Thousand Demon Soul-Lock Art.
Yin Spirit Chains.
Great Lunar Execution Method.
Seven-Emotions Palm.
Six-Desires Demon Dragon Qi.
Black Rain Slaughter Spell.
Child-Mother Heavenly Ghost Transformation.
Three-Corpse Nascent Soul.
And many more…
Each was cruel.
Every method required corpses, souls, unborn children, yin essence, or tortured spirits.
A tapestry of horror—laid out with scholarly precision.
Even Fang Han felt his blood chill.
Compared with this, the treachery of Zhao Xuanyi or Hua Tiandu seemed almost naïve. They plotted and schemed, but they did not cross into the realm of monstrous depravity.
Now he finally understood why the righteous path was called righteous—and why the demonic path was reviled.
Righteous cultivators may be ambitious, even vicious, but they rarely reached the point of annihilating the innocent by the masses.
Fang Han exhaled slowly.
"So this… is true demonic cultivation."
And he realized something else:
If he was to take over the Yellow Springs Demon Sect one day, he would have to drag it, kicking and screaming, back to the boundaries of humanity.
Not saints.
Not heroes.
Just… not monsters.
"These Nine Ghost Immortal Souls carry immense karmic filth," Fang Han muttered. "If I absorb them, I may inherit some of the Ghost Emperor's resentment and sins. It could affect my future fortune."
But to abandon thirty-four top-tier divine abilities?
Impossible.
He clenched his fists.
"I've already made up my mind to conquer the Yellow Springs Demon Sect and force them back from the brink of evil. The karmic merit from that alone will offset whatever I take on here."
Karma, fate, fortune—these were mysteries even Longevity champions struggled to predict.
But Fang Han had one advantage:
His luck was at its peak.
His destiny burning bright.
With Prayers Art at his command, he understood his fortunes better than most.
Of course, luck would eventually decline.
During that future low tide, even drinking water could choke him.
True experts knew how to ride the waves—striking hard when blessed, and hiding when cursed.
But all of that was for later.
For now…
"Blackghost King, go stand guard outside this peak. If anyone approaches, drive them off. I'm about to use this entire gourd of wish-power to open my mind and refine my new divine abilities."
Blackghost King vanished instantly.
Fang Han lifted the gourd of sentient wish-power and poured it into the Forgetful Water of the Yellow Springs Diagram.
He trusted no one—not even the Star Master.
Everything must be purified first.
Only then could he absorb it.