A Farmer's Journey To Immortality

Arkaal frowned as he listened to his master’s words.

At first, he did not understand what he had just heard. His brows slowly knit together, and a trace of confusion appeared on his face.

Then it hit him.

His eyes widened.

“Core Formation realm?” he murmured under his breath.

His gaze shifted toward Aksai at once. The confusion in his eyes turned into shock. He looked at Aksai again, as if trying to see something he had missed before.

“Master… are you sure?” Arkaal asked, his voice uncertain. “He has clearly lost his consciousness. Why are you—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

His words got stuck in his throat.

Because Aksai moved.

Right in front of them, Aksai slowly opened his eyes.

There was no sign of confusion or grogginess in them. His gaze was clear and calm, as if he had never been unconscious in the first place.

Arkaal froze.

For a brief moment, he could not process what he was seeing.

Aksai then stood up.

His movements were steady. There was no rush, no panic. He brushed off the faint dust on his clothes and turned toward the stone platform.

He looked directly at the old man.

Then, he offered a light bow.

“It is only natural that a Nascent Soul King like you would see through my little act, senior,” Aksai said calmly.

His voice was even, without any trace of fear.

“This is my first time seeing a cultivator of the 4th Spirit realm,” he continued. “May I know your name?”

He did not even glance at Arkaal. It was as if Arkaal no longer existed in his eyes. All of Aksai’s attention was focused on the old man.

Inside, however, his thoughts were tense. He had never expected things to reach this point.

A Nascent Soul King.

That was far beyond what he had prepared for. In a way, he regretted letting the situation play out this long. If he had acted earlier, he might have avoided facing someone like this.

But regret had no use now.

The pressure in the room was not something Aksai could just casually brush off. Even in his weak state, the old man’s presence felt dark and foul, like something that should not exist.

It was unsettling.

Still, Aksai kept his face calm. His posture remained steady. He did not let even a hint of his unease show. Because he knew one thing clearly. The moment he showed weakness would be the moment everything collapsed.

“Khikhikhikhi!”

The old man’s laughter echoed inside the sealed chamber, dry and sharp, like bones scraping against each other. His hollow eyes locked onto Aksai, filled with mockery and cruel delight.

“Khikhikhi! Little fox, you sure have guts,” he said, his voice shaky yet filled with pride. “It’s good that you understand the position you are in.”

He slowly straightened his back with great effort, his thin arms trembling as he tried to hold himself upright. Even in that weak state, there was something terrifying about him. His presence pressed down on the surroundings like a heavy weight.

“This seat is named Qishan Zham,” he continued, a twisted smile forming on his lips. “My daoist name is Gu Poison King.”

His gaze sharpened as he looked at Aksai, as if he was staring at a prized possession. However, as if remembering that he was short on time, he let go of his stray thoughts and immediately decided to deal with the matter at hand.

“Let’s not waste time anymore. I promise to keep your soul intact so that it could reincarnate if you play nicely. Otherwise, don’t blame me if—”

He suddenly stopped. The words got stuck in his throat. Something was wrong.

Qishan’s expression changed. His smile vanished, replaced by confusion. He slowly lowered his head and looked at his own body.

His arms… were changing.

The already dry and thin skin started to wrinkle even more, turning darker and more rotten. His flesh seemed to shrink, as if something inside him was being drained away. The little muscle he had left disappeared as if it had never existed.

His fingers trembled. His breathing grew uneven. His chest rose and fell weakly, as if even breathing had become a difficult task.

It was as if he was being put under hibernation like before. Except, the formation that had sustained him so far was not active. This was clearly an external influence and it wasn’t trying to preserve his last breaths. Instead, this influence was trying to kill him.

“My… body…” he muttered, his voice filled with disbelief.

His eyes widened as he felt something deeper.

His life.

His lifespan.

It was slipping away.

Fast.

Too fast.

His already dim vision began to blur further. The world around him started to lose clarity. His heartbeat, which was already weak, began to slow down even more.

Thump…

…thump…

…thump…

Each beat felt weaker than the last.

“What… what is happening to me?” he asked, panic creeping into his voice.

The Gu Poison King was unwilling.

He had spent centuries fighting against time. He had used countless methods to extend his life. Even in his current state, those methods were still in effect.

And yet…

It felt like something was forcefully taking his most cherished possession from him… his remaining lifespan.

Draining it.

Devouring it.

His gaze snapped toward Aksai.

Realization struck him like a bolt.

“You…” his voice turned sharp and filled with anger. “How? You are clearly… Little bastard, you—”

Rage filled his eyes. He raised his trembling arm, forcing his power to move.

In the next moment, the poison gu insects around him reacted. They formed a dark wave in the air, buzzing loudly as they gathered into a massive swarm. The entire chamber seemed to darken as the insects moved toward Aksai.

It looked like he wanted to drag Aksai down with him. Even if he died, he would not let his enemy live.

But before the swarm could reach him, Aksai moved. He calmly raised his hand.

His expression was steady. There was no panic on his face, no fear in his eyes. He looked at Qishan as if he had already expected this outcome.

A faint green light appeared around his hand. It was soft. Quiet. But filled with something ancient and absolute. Something that no Spirit cultivator from Dadangar Subcontinent could stop or deflect.

[Druid’s Curse: Lifespan Devour.]

For a brief second, everything went still.

Then—

Qishan’s body shook violently.

His eyes widened to their limits. His mouth opened, but no words came out. The connection between them turned into a channel, one that forcefully pulled something out of him.

His lifespan was pulled out like threads from a torn cloth.

The poison gu insects lost their formation mid-air. The swarm became unstable, scattering as their master’s control weakened.

Qishan’s arm dropped. His body began to collapse. His skin turned even more lifeless, clinging to his bones. His eyes lost their light rapidly, turning dull and empty.

“N-no… this… this is impossible…” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

But the process did not stop.

It only grew stronger.

Aksai stood still, his hand raised, his expression calm. Inside him, his Druid’s Poison Heart beat steadily, absorbing everything that was being taken.

The chamber fell into a strange silence as the old Poison Gu King’s heartbeats came to a complete halt.

The moment the last trace of life left Qishan Zham’s body, it was as if reality wanted to erase his presence from the world as soon as possible.

At first, it was subtle.

His already thin and wrinkled skin started to sag even more, as if it had lost the last bit of strength holding it together. Dark patches spread across his arms and face, and the faint smell of decay in the chamber suddenly grew much stronger.

Then it worsened.

His flesh began to rot at a speed that was visible to the naked eye. The skin on his arms cracked open, revealing dry, blackened muscle beneath. That too did not last long. It shrank, thinned, and then started to break apart like wet paper left out in the sun.

At the same time, the countless poison gu insects that had filled the chamber began to react.

Without their master’s control, they lost all order.

Some of them dropped from the air instantly, their tiny bodies twitching before going still. Others started flying in random directions, crashing into walls or each other. A strange buzzing sound filled the chamber, chaotic and unsettling.

But not all of them fled.

A large number of the gu insects rushed toward Qishan’s collapsing body, as if drawn by instinct. They swarmed over him, crawling across his rotting flesh and digging into it with urgency.

It looked less like panic and more like survival instinct.

They burrowed into his skin, forcing their way into the decaying flesh, trying to make a home inside what remained of their master. However, the body they clung to was no longer stable.

As more and more insects dug in, the structure of the corpse began to fail.

Bones that once held the body upright started to crack. The ribcage collapsed inward, and the spine bent unnaturally before breaking apart. The skull tilted to one side, and a faint crack ran across it before it too gave in.