Episode 148: The Poison Pool of the Undead

Bai Shengye attempted to unleash a "Frost Dragon's Roar" to defend himself, but the palm strike he had taken to his back had instantly sealed his magical flow, rendering him powerless. He could only collapse forward, carried by his own momentum.

Five long, sharp nails dug into the skin atop his head, drawing five trickles of blood. As toxins surged into his cranium, a green mist erupted, momentarily forming the shape of a skull before dissipating.

Everything went black before Bai Shengye’s eyes. His knees buckled, and he crashed heavily to the ground. His medicine chest shattered into two, scattering behind him.

Wu Zhen retreated to his original position, standing a short distance away. The phantom previously seen frozen in ice had merely been a hallucination induced by the poisonous mist. Among all toxins, physical pain is the easiest to perceive, but hallucinations are impossible to guard against.

The thick green fog on the transparent barrier gradually dispersed, and the ice wall collapsed into drifts of snow. On the arena floor, Wu Zhen remained unscathed, while Bai Shengye knelt on one knee, blood spilling from his lips.

"Ah!"

The members of the Holy City watched this scene with heavy hearts, as if they themselves had been struck in the chest. None of them had expected Bai Shengye to be defeated so easily. Ling Meng, soft-hearted as she was, clutched her chest and stepped back, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Although she usually maintained a cold and indifferent attitude toward him, she could not help but be moved at this moment.

Bai Shengye’s head throbbed, his internal organs churned, and every nerve felt as though it were on the verge of shattering. Blood dripped down his cheek and onto the ground. He fought to stay conscious, gritting his teeth while blindly groping behind him through the scattered herbs, searching for an antidote.

Had it not been for the fact that members of the Medicine Immortal clan trained from childhood in the Ice Lotus Pools of the Extreme Cold Mountains—granting them an extraordinary, innate resistance to toxins—he would have perished already. Gazing into Wu Zhen’s cold, pitiless eyes, he realized the man had no intention of showing mercy. In the history of the Magic Duel Tournament, the death of a contestant was an accepted, if tragic, possibility.

He recalled an ancient precept from his clan: "The Medicine Immortal clan shall never craft poisons." Now, he understood the profound significance and necessity of that vow more clearly than ever.

Looking up at Wu Zhen, his eyes filled with icy fury: "The Wu clan..."

Resisting the agony, he found an injection designed to suppress the spread of toxins and immediately plunged it into his body. As the darkness before his eyes receded slightly, he continued to scavenge for the necessary medicinal ingredients. These herbs were usually kept in organized compartments, allowing him to retrieve them with one hand without even looking, but now, everything was in disarray.

Destroying his medicine chest had been part of Wu Zhen’s plan all along.

*The flash of red light from the crystal ball meant he had divined my intent to use a wide-range attack at the very start,* Bai Shengye thought. *He used the venomous snake attack to distract me while releasing toxins into the surroundings. The hallucinogenic effect of the gas was the real objective...*

The toxins from the two attacks—on his back and his head—were different, but fortunately, the materials he needed were within reach. Bai Shengye rapidly concocted an antidote and consumed it. The poison from the green palm print on his back quickly evaporated. He then took a blood-clotting medicine to mend his wounds; the lacerations on his back healed rapidly, leaving his skin as smooth as before. All of this was accomplished with blistering speed.

Wu Zhen watched this with a look of idle curiosity and said expressionlessly, "You cannot defeat me. An apothecary's antidote is always one step behind the poison. If I give you no room to breathe, how can you hope to win?"

Bai Shengye offered a faint smile. "Then let us find out."

"You are truly stubborn," Wu Zhen replied, his tone turning sinister. "Let me show you the true power of the Wu clan—Necromancy: Poisonous Pool!"

A green light flashed in his eyes, and his robes billowed. Accompanied by the mournful wails of the dead, a pool of bubbling, filthy green liquid began to spread from beneath his feet, with rotted bones floating upon its surface.

Wherever the pool spread, the floor of the arena—despite its immense durability—began to dissolve and sink. Within the pool, countless restless souls seemed to reach out with withered, skeletal hands, struggling and wailing as they crawled toward the edges. Their bodies had long since rotted away, leaving only their bitter, lingering spirits.

Seeing this, Bai Shengye felt a chill run down his spine. He immediately gathered his shattered medicine chest, tied the two halves together with a rope, slung it over his shoulder, and retreated. His physical functions had recovered by more than half.

"This pool contains a thousand of the most lethal toxins, the most terrifying of which is the Rotted Bone Corpse Poison!" Wu Zhen spread his arms as the pool continued to expand. "Medicine Immortal, let us see how you cure this!"

*A thousand toxins, all of them lethal...* Bai Shengye thought. *If what he says is true, I cannot afford to get even one step closer.*

Having just recovered from being poisoned, his body still needed time to stabilize. His staff refused to shift into its second form, so he immediately erected an ice wall as a barrier and kept running. The poison pool quickly reached the base of the ice wall, causing it to melt and collapse into the toxic sludge.

The poisonous mist wafting from the pool permeated the air, carried by the wind toward Bai Shengye. He immediately covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve, thinking, *This is bad. The gas also has hallucinogenic effects, and it reeks of corpse poison—the most corrosive type of toxin there is!*

The toxic mist trailed him relentlessly. Suddenly, a restless soul lunged from the fog and gripped his left shoulder. Another drifted down from the air, pursuing his right side while brandishing a scythe-like weapon.

Tripping, he kicked away a soul that had grabbed his ankle, snapping the withered, branch-like arm clean off. These spirits were all skeletal in appearance, draped in tattered rags. Judging by their weapons, they had been warriors or mages in life.

Wu Zhen, controlling these spirits with a savage look, appeared as the dark master of this undead legion, his black robes billowing amidst the green mist.

"What a sinister technique," Yixin muttered from below, slamming his fist against the transparent barrier with a grave expression.

Ling Xiao replied, "I once read in a book that this type of spell, which gathers corpse poison and summons the undead, requires contact with thousands of corpses to master."

"What?" The girls behind them gasped in horror.

"How will Bai Shengye handle this..." Hei Yu murmured, equally worried, his eyes never leaving the arena.

The terrifying poison pool lay stretched across the center of the stage, with Wu Zhen standing within it, completely unaffected. Bai Shengye could only run around the perimeter of the field, his consciousness growing increasingly blurred as the ever-thickening toxic gas encroached upon him.