Cavereach City. Dadangar.
Hour of Shadow Monkey (02:00 AM – 03:00 AM)
Aksai’s eyes snapped open in his inn room. He stretched out his palm, and Mao’s consciousness materialized, levitating just above it.
“Mao must have used the principles of the Heretic Talismanic Dao to modify the way the Consciousness Creation Art was supposed to work,” Aksai guessed as he looked at the fragment of consciousness of a dead person that he had killed with his own hands.
He flipped the pages of Mao’s diary and confirmed his guess.
“I was right. He first cultivated this consciousness for at least two decades, using the lives of various cultivators as sacrifices.
Then, he used the principles of the Consciousness Creation Art to make the cultivated consciousness compatible with anyone who would come in contact with his trap-like encrypted heretic healing-type talisman.
He… he was a genius in his own way,” Aksai concluded as he closed his supposed half-master’s personal diary. He then observed Mao’s consciousness with his Spirit Sense and made sure it didn’t have any more booby traps set for him.
“It would have been troublesome for me to get rid of this consciousness if that old geezer hadn’t died. But his gift… I’ll make sure to use it well. Hahaha.”
Mao had spent countless painstaking hours and the blood of his victims to cultivate this consciousness. This special type of consciousness was perfectly capable of being used as a ready-made artifact spirit as long as Aksai found a compatible vessel for itself.
It was as if Mao had done all the heavy lifting. Aksai just needed to taste the fruits of the demonic cultivator’s labor.
He immediately decided not to let Mao’s efforts go to waste. Instead, he would implant this consciousness into an item. A smile spread across his face as an idea formed. He took out his 2nd-order talisman brush.
“Time to breathe a new life into my trusted friend.”
The talisman brush was a remarkable artifact. Its handle was crafted from the tooth of a 2nd-order Golden Armor Elephant, known for its unparalleled strength and durability. The bristles were made from the fur of the elusive Three Eyes Yin Fox, renowned for its sensitivity to spiritual energies.
Golden runes, intricate and ancient, were etched over the white-bone-like body of the brush, shimmering faintly under the dim light of the room.
Aksai began to perform a series of complex hand signs, his movements becoming a blur as his hands weaved through the air with practiced precision. The talisman brush and Mao’s consciousness floated before him, held aloft by his will.
With a decisive motion, Aksai slapped his hands together, and Mao’s consciousness was driven into the talisman brush.
The golden runes on the brush’s surface began to shift and change on their own, reacting to the integration of Mao’s consciousness. A peculiar Spirit Pulse emanated from the talisman brush, the energy radiating outward and filling the room with a soft, pulsing light.
The process of implanting the consciousness was successful, the once lifeless brush was now imbued with a synthetic awareness.
Aksai stretched out his hand, and the talisman brush gently landed on his palm, bringing a satisfied smile to his face. He could feel the faint pulse of consciousness within the brush, indicating the successful fusion of Mao’s will and the principles of the Consciousness Creation Art.
“This CC Art is truly a masterpiece,” Aksai murmured, turning the brush over in his hand and examining it closely. He wrapped the brush with his Spirit Sense and observed its “elevated specs.”
The integration of Mao’s consciousness had not only enhanced the brush’s innate qualities but had also given it a level of adaptability and intelligence that was unheard of for an artifact of its rank. Technically speaking, it was still a 2nd-order item. However, it could do much more than what its level entailed.
Testing its new capabilities, Aksai dipped the brush into ink and began to draw a simple talisman. The brush moved with a will of its own, guiding his hand with a subtle force. The strokes were more precise, the runes more vibrant and potent than any talisman he had created before.
“Magnificent,” Aksai whispered, marveling at the result.
“Even without using the synthetic artifact spirit, the passive buffs offered by the talisman brush are not bad. Time to see what it can do when I make use of the spirit.”
Aksai held the talisman brush in his hand, feeling the faint pulse of Mao’s consciousness within it. With a focused expression, he summoned the consciousness, willing it to manifest.
From the tip of the brush, a small figure began to emerge, its form gradually taking shape. Aksai watched as the consciousness materialized into a boy of about ten years old.
The boy’s features were youthful, but his eyes were unsettling—dark, aged, and filled with a malevolent gleam. The contrast between the boyish face and those sinister eyes was unnerving.
The boy slowly opened his eyes and looked around, confusion etched on his youthful face. He stepped out of the brush entirely, balancing on its bristles as if they were solid ground.
His gaze swept the room, taking in his surroundings with a mix of bewilderment and fear. When he finally looked up, he saw Aksai towering above him, appearing like a giant.
The boy’s face contorted in terror. “W-who are you?!” he screamed, his voice hoarse and aged despite his youthful appearance. “Let me go! I’ll use my Heretic talismans on you! I… I fuck*ing swear it!”
He turned and tried to run, but as soon as he reached the edge of a three-meter radius from the brush, an invisible force pulled him back. He stumbled, bewildered and shocked. Panic flashed in his eyes as he struggled to understand what was happening.
“What’s going on? Why can’t I leave?” he shouted, his voice tinged with desperation. He looked around frantically, his aged eyes darting about in search of an escape. “What have you done to me?”
Aksai observed the scene with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. He watched as the boy’s consciousness, now tethered to the talisman brush, struggled against the constraints.
“I didn’t do anything, little guy. It was you. I merely helped you achieve your true potential as a demonic talisman brush. Hehehe.”
Cheerful laughter landed on kid-like Mao’s ears. However, for some reason, this new Mao found it to be even more demonic than his own when he was alive and at his peak.