Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 2: Mutagen

If that’s a living person, maybe he’s also after that violet light. Or maybe it’s a trap.

In the days Xu Qing had spent in this ruined city, he had come to deeply understand what happened when the god’s aura infected living beings; it turned them into mutant beasts. They became incomparably vicious, and profoundly strong.

However, perhaps because this area hadn’t fully transformed, most of the mutant beasts spent daylight hours sleeping. The only exception was if they were disturbed, such as when he went to get that jade slip. Normally speaking, as long as you were careful, you didn’t have to worry about them.

Truth be told, Xu Qing was leerier of living people than the mutant beasts. After all, sometimes people were a lot more treacherous than animals.

After thinking about the matter for a bit longer, his eyes gradually turned even colder. It didn’t matter if there was a living person there. And it didn’t matter if it was a trap. He had to go back there.

That said, he knew that if he planned to do so, he had to be completely prepared.

With such thoughts on his mind, he looked at the bamboo slip in his hand.

He had been training for days now using the slip, and it had done a lot more for him than improve his stamina and confidence. It had firmly fixed the cultivation technique into his mind, and also provided him with some general information about cultivation.

Cultivation had a history that went back into ancient times, before the arrival of the broken face of the god.

Although some things had changed since the old days, the system was mostly as it had always been. It was broken into Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, Gold Core, and Nascent Soul.

Whatever was after Nascent Soul, it was too advanced, and the bamboo slip didn’t talk about it. However, the slip did explain how difficult cultivation was for cultivators.

The god’s aura tainted spirit power. To living beings, that taint was the same as a deadly poison.

At some point in the past, people took to calling the god’s aura ‘mutagen.’

Xu Qing wasn’t sure about the details. He just knew that whenever he practiced cultivation, he felt very cold, and that was probably because his spirit power was infected with mutagen.

When enough mutagen built up inside a cultivator’s body, they would experience mutation. In some cases, they would explode in a cloud of blood. Other times, they would transform into mindless beasts.

When the god’s eyes opened to look at an area, the mutagen there would instantly become more concentrated. In turn, that would accelerate the mutations.

Cultivation was inherently dangerous, but avoiding it wasn’t possible.

Xu Qing lived on the world of Armageddon, which was infected by the aura of the god, a world in which the lifespan of humans had a limit, and disease was rampant. Living here was like living in the Nine Serenities. Few people here died peacefully in their sleep. [1] ．

Without any other options, cultivation became a path that most people had no choice but to follow.

For countless years, people had passed down legacies and used them to develop cultivation techniques.

The traditional method nowadays was to absorb spirit power and use cultivation techniques to isolate the mutagen in a specific part of one’s body. That part of the body came to be called the mutation blotch.

Because of that, the amount of mutagen a technique could isolate became an important standard in determining the hierarchy of techniques.

The techniques that isolated high quantities of mutagen were controlled by powerful groups and clans. Such techniques were those organizations’ biggest asset. Of course, a similar state of affairs would have existed whether the god came or not.

Because of the differences in cultivation techniques, and the different ways of isolating mutagen, the location of the mutation blotches could vary.

Regardless, as long as one practiced cultivation, one had to deal with mutagen, and because of that, would gradually develop a mutation blotch.

Mutation blotches could never be truly eliminated. Some medicinal pills could dissolve them, but that was only treating the symptom and not the root cause.

That said, Xu Qing’s bamboo slip did mention there was a way to completely cleanse a mutation blotch. On Armageddon, there were other locations besides South Phoenix. One of them was a massive continent called Revered Ancient. It was considered the mainland of the world. That was where humans originated, and though it was also infected by the aura of the god, they had apparently discovered a way to cleanse themselves of it.

That said, whatever the method was, it couldn’t be widely practiced. Only very important people could use it. For ordinary cultivators, it was just a dream.

And as for the endless numbers of rogue cultivators, they didn’t have a chance at all. Rogue cultivators had the lowest and weakest techniques of all, which made their practice of cultivation difficult, and put them at high risk of mutation.

Even despite those dangers, cultivators were still a common sight everywhere.

That included Xu Qing. After all, he also counted as a rogue cultivator.

With his bamboo slip, he was like all the other cultivators on Armageddon, walking a dangerous path of no return. They were like mortals who swam into a deep sea toward an unreachable shore on the other side. Most would run out of energy and die long before laying eyes on that legendary distant shore.

Xu Qing, who had grown up in the slums outside the city, knew that all it took was one fight gone wrong, or one bout of sickness, and his life could be over.

Wondering if I might mutate someday in the future is better than wondering if I’ll live through tomorrow, he thought, rubbing absently at the wound on his chest as he looked up into the sky.

It would be light again soon, and the howling and screaming outside was already starting to fade.

If this blood rain keeps up, and I can’t find that violet light, then I should think about leaving. Maybe go to a different city to look for medicine.

He looked down at his wound.

Because of the god’s aura and the endless blood rainfall, virtually everything in this city was deeply infected, and that included the medicinal plants. The supplies here were deficient at best.

Xu Qing brushed as much of the blood-infused water away from his wound as possible.

Face pale, he took a deep breath as he removed his upper garment from beneath the leather jerkin, used it to wrap up his wound, then steeled himself and waited for dawn.

Not long thereafter, the howling and screaming grew even fainter.

When it was completely gone, Xu Qing peered out through the crack and confirmed that the sky was completely bright.

Based on his past experience, he knew that it was safe to emerge. However, he didn’t immediately go out. Instead, he got to his feet and started stretching out his stiff joints.

After he was warmed up, he unsealed the crack, then took advantage of the light to open his sack and look inside.

Taking out a rusty dagger from inside, he strapped it to his thigh. Then he equipped his black iron skewer. Finally, he pulled out a severed snake head, which was carefully wrapped up in a cloth. After opening the cloth to inspect it, he put it back in the pouch.

Having accomplished these things, Xu Qing closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, they were hard and cold.

With that, he stepped out into the open.

Outside, he looked around carefully, and seeing that the coast was clear, started moving beneath the brightening sky.

Blood rain continued to fall from the overcast sky, so there was no sun or sunlight.

The early morning light seemed like the turbid gaze of a sick old man, slowly piercing the scattered remnants of night fog. And that old man’s exhalations were the dawn breeze, packed with the cold flavor of death.

If Xu Qing hadn’t taken the time to warm up earlier, that breeze would’ve had him trembling. Thankfully, he had enough warmth in him to be unaffected.

Maintaining a good speed, he headed toward where he’d seen that living person the day before.

From a high vantage point, he could be seen slipping through the empty ruins like a leopard, moving with fluid grace as he occasionally leaped over crumbling walls.

Keeping pace with him high above was a flock of birds. As he ran, Xu Qing looked up at them and licked his lips. Unfortunately, they were too high for him to reach.

For some unknown reason, when the god’s eyes opened, all living beings were infected, and most died. That included the animals. The only exceptions were the birds.

In the past few days, Xu Qing had been hunting birds just like that, in the hopes of alleviating the aching hunger in his belly.

Although birds would occasionally get caught in the blood rain, for the most part they were instinctively capable of finding safe places to stay. For example, the cave Xu Qing had been staying in was a place he’d found when tracking down some birds.

Truth be told, places like that weren’t completely safe. However, the grues and mutant beasts tended to overlook them for some unusual reason.

Actually, it was only one of two noteworthy locations he’d identified. The second was the city magistrate’s manor.

Right now, he ignored the birds, forgot about the manor, and headed toward the spot from yesterday.

As he got closer, he decided not to simply approach directly, but instead, to circle around a hill that overlooked the area.

After carefully climbing to the top of the hill, he stayed on his stomach and kept his eyelids as slits to prevent the flash of his eyes from revealing his position. With that, he looked down.

Instantly, his pupils constricted, as he yet again saw the person he’d seen yesterday!

As before, he sat next to one of the crumbled walls, wearing fine clothing, his skin completely normal. Most importantly… everything about him, from his posture to his position, were exactly the same as Xu Qing remembered. It was as if he’d spent the whole night without moving an inch.

That made no sense.

If this guy was alive, he couldn’t possibly have just ignored the dangerous things that lurked in the night in this city. And if he was dead, his uninfected corpse would have been devoured by mutant beasts.

Xu Qing lay there quietly, thinking the matter over and not moving. Having grown up in the slums, he had long since learned patience.

Time slipped by slowly but surely as he simply remained in place observing the situation. Eventually, noontime came and went.

Only after waiting for six full hours did Xu Qing finally reach out and pick up a rock, which he threw in the direction of the man.

It hit the man with a thump. He swayed back and forth, then toppled over like one would expect a corpse to do.

As he fell, a wisp of violet light appeared in the spot he’d been sitting. The sight of it caused Xu Qing’s eyes to glitter. For days now, he had been searching for a violet light that he’d seen falling into this city.

He had to hold back from rushing forward instantly. And even with all his self-control, he could only last for a few seconds before bursting into motion. He seemed to be running with all his might, moving with the speed of a falcon toward whatever was emitting the violet light.

Reaching the light, he grabbed the object, spun in place, then sprinted away.

It all happened very quickly. And it was only when he was about thirty meters away that he stopped, huffing and puffing, to look down at the violet object in his hands.

It was a beautiful crystal, sparkling and translucent.

Xu Qing’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked back at the toppled corpse. Perhaps because the violet light no longer protected it, the clothing was already decaying, and the corpse’s skin was turning greenish-black.

Seeing that, Xu Qing instinctively clutched the violet crystal tightly against his chest. Then he turned in the direction of his cave and started running.

After a time, he slowed down and looked around, seemingly confused.

Pulling aside the flaps of the leather jerkin, he looked at his chest.

There was no pain anymore. Instead, the spot only itched a bit.

Eyes filling with suspicion, he untied the garment he’d used as a bandage. When he looked at the wound on his chest, his expression flickered dramatically.

Last he’d checked, the wound was still festering, with blackness building up on the edges….

But right now, the wound was almost completely healed, with only some light scar tissue on the edges. He didn’t see any blood at all.

What…? Panting, he looked down at the violet crystal in his hand.

1. “Nine Serenities” is one of many poetic ways in Chinese to describe hell/the underworld. ☜

Deathblade’s Thoughts

By the way, the Chinese characters in the title that I’m translating as “timescape” form a poetic and uncommon word that simply means “time.” I chose to translate it as “timescape” for various reasons that will come to light much later….