Monster Chronicles: My Daoist Skill Comes from Mythology Chapter 5: Hidden Dragon Breath Emission Powder (Please Follow)

"Song Lin!"

The moment Song Lin stepped foot into the mountain gate of the Taoist temple, a voice called out his name.

He turned his head, spotting a disciple in green robes, appearing to be around his own age.

However, the attire of this individual was noticeably more refined than his own.

"Daoist Li? What business could you have with me?"

Song Lin's brow furrowed as he recognized the person before him.

The man surveyed him from head to toe before offering a slight smile. "Ah, nothing much. I was simply checking up on you."

"If that’s all, then I am relieved. By the way, three days from now, Taoist Wude requires your presence to tend to the altar," Li Xuan stated with a grin.

Hearing this, Song Lin halted his movement, fixing his gaze on Li Xuan. "Not me?"

"How could it possibly be me? This is Taoist Wude’s directive, I have no say in the matter. Nonetheless, I have conveyed the message. You should proceed as you see fit."

Li Xuan gave a parting smile, clapped Song Lin on the shoulder, and then departed.

Having recently taken a life, Song Lin’s lingering murderous aura was still palpable. Witnessing Li Xuan’s retreating back ignited a sudden wave of killing intent within him.

He couldn't help but recall the circumstances surrounding his predecessor's demise. Li Xuan was a favored disciple of Taoist Wude, and whispers even suggested he was to be taken as a personal disciple.

Leveraging this favoritism, Li Xuan frequently passed off his own duties, which often landed upon Song Lin’s predecessor. This was the very predicament that led to the predecessor's death.

While the fatality rate for medicine-gathering disciples was considerable, it was still substantially safer than being an alchemy apprentice.

The primary dangers encountered during medicine gathering primarily stemmed from wild beasts and demonic beasts dwelling in the wilderness, though such encounters were not alarmingly frequent. After all, much of the surrounding mountain territory had already been thoroughly explored.

With adequate preparation, including essential self-defense tools and prior reconnaissance of the gathering sites, one could potentially survive for years, much like Zhang Jin, who managed to last eight years.

The so-called "altar" was, in reality, a Dharma altar utilized for ghost cultivation. Ghosts require more than just the absorption of Sun and Moon essence for sustenance; they also depend on various materials to bolster their strength.

Engaging with ghosts was an exceptionally perilous undertaking. The predecessor’s death was attributed to the accidental inhalation of certain moss spores, a potential consequence of ghostly sabotage.

The inherent risks were undeniable.

Firming his resolve, Song Lin became even more determined to break through the 'fetal breath' stage. His current level of Cultivation was too insufficient; even if he were in the right, no one would offer him support.

Individuals possessing significant Cultivation could easily strike down Li Xuan with a mere flick of their wrist—what recourse would Song Lin have?

Returning to his quarters, Song Lin carefully concealed his wooden sword. Subsequently, he proceeded to the Grand Commissioner Institute to submit the Plague Demon Moss, receiving two Taoist Merits in return, and converted five dharma coins into additional merits.

He also exchanged a She Mountain Stone Fish for five Jiachen Qi Nourishing Pills.

Initially, his plan was to visit the Ghost Market, where prices might be more favorable, but he reconsidered. The Ghost Market teemed with a diverse array of individuals, and he wished to avoid any association with undesirable elements.

In typical novel narratives, frequenting such places often attracts envious and predatory gazes. Individuals might attempt robbery, leading to a series of escalating confrontations—first against minor adversaries, then stronger ones, and eventually formidable Elders and so forth.

Song Lin remained uncertain about his capacity to withstand such protracted conflicts. Conducting transactions at the Grand Commissioner Institute offered a much greater sense of security.

The Taoist Merits were meticulously recorded on the talisman affixed to his waist. After a rough estimation, Song Lin ascertained that he had amassed a total of eleven merits.

With his errands concluded, he turned his course back towards the Capital Management Courtyard.

"Dead? How did he perish? Which hall did he belong to?" Within the loft, an elder Taoist, engrossed in a weighty ancient tome, addressed Song Lin.

"The deceased’s name is Zhang Jin, a Taoist disciple under the care of Warehouse Steward Taoist Wude. Zhang Jin tragically fell from a mountain cliff while gathering medicine in my company," Song Lin reported.

Upon hearing this, the elder Taoist applauded. A swirl of verdant Yin Wind materialized behind him, coalescing into a spectral entity with large ears and a pale blue countenance.

The ghost intently studied the elder Taoist’s tome, wherein Zhang Jin’s birthdate was inscribed. It then knelt upon the ground, listening intently for a moment before nodding and vanishing.

"That will be all. You are dismissed."

Using a vermillion brush, the old Taoist marked Zhang Jin's name with a large red cross, asking no further questions. The demise of a Taoist disciple was a common incident, after all. Taoist temples never found themselves lacking in disciples; every year, hopefuls wanting to join would form queues stretching from the gates all the way up the mountain.

By the time Song Lin concluded these administrative tasks, it was approaching midnight. The sky was dark and ominous, yet the stars above gleamed with brilliance. Within the Taoist temple's labyrinthine paths, deep shadows prevailed, disturbed only by the rustling of branches on either side, which seemed to claw at the air like sinister demons. Periodically, ravens with beady green eyes would glide past, their intense gazes disturbingly human-like. Song Lin paid them no mind; recording deaths was merely a formality they had to observe.

The Five Elders Xuanke Temple boasted a history spanning centuries. It was established over 300 years ago by the temple's esteemed True Person master. However, the functioning of a Taoist temple extended beyond a senior Taoist guiding juniors in their cultivation pursuits. It operated as a self-contained miniature society.

Beneath the temple master were the Three City Lords, who oversaw general affairs, managed daily duties, documented merit-based tasks, and controlled the distribution and sale of cultivation techniques and essential supplies. These Three City Lords were, in turn, supported by the Eight Deacons. Their responsibilities included overseeing warehouses, handling accounts, managing public duties, patrolling dormitories, supervising the mountain, welcoming guests, operating the Ghost Market, and managing temple estates.

The deacons themselves relied on smaller managers who took care of daily necessities such as food and sanitation. Beyond their mountain stronghold, the temple's operations encompassed farmlands, tenant farmers, and various shops, all serving the purpose of generating the income required for the temple's continuous functioning. This was considered a rather straightforward organizational structure. Larger entities, such as the Ten Directions Forest, operated with a more complex system of "Three Cities, Five Masters, and Eighteen Heads," featuring an even more stringent hierarchy of responsibilities.

"The Taoist School..." Song Lin murmured as he ambled along the dimly lit thoroughfares, contemplating the concept. This world was besieged by demons and monsters, where the boundary between the mortal realm and the afterlife frequently became indistinct. Ordinary humans depended on Taoist temples for protection, offering their allegiance to these institutions in return for safety. Consequently, nearly every state, county, and district housed at least one Taoist temple standing sentinel. The proliferation of Taoist temples inevitably fostered competition and friction among them.

These organizations were differentiated by their cultivation techniques, geographical territories, ancestral lineages, and even their ethnic affiliations. Taking Xuanke Temple as an illustration, it held jurisdiction over Shanyin County, a region with a populace of 800,000, and its influence was confined strictly within the county's boundaries. Temples at the county level were typically designated as "Descendant Temples," wherein teachings were passed down from master to disciple, resembling a familial inheritance.

Organizations superior to Descendant Temples included larger entities like the Ten Directions Forest. Those selected as successors from Descendant Temples were required to complete the "Three Altar Precepts" within these larger organizations before they could officially assume leadership positions. Above the Ten Directions Forest stood the overarching Taoist School, and presiding over that was the Taoist Alliance. The Taoist Alliance was a colossal entity, its influence extending across numerous states and governing the existence of hundreds of millions of individuals. Should the Alliance Hierarch ever receive an appointment as State Preceptor from the royal family, they would ascend to the position of "Dragon Head," wielding absolute authority over the land's vital energy nexuses. (It is important to note, however, that an appointment by the royal family did not automatically signify the royal family's supreme power.)

Xuanke Temple operated under the authority of Mei Mountain Jungle, which, in turn, was affiliated with the Southern Sect of the Sacred Might Dao from Yin Mountain. Higher still was the Heaven and Earth Xuanmen Alliance. The system was rigorously structured, with each tier tightly bound to the one above it. Those who achieved mastery of the Great Dao were held in high esteem, venerated by the masses, and instilled with fear in the hearts of monsters and demons.

"I possess the Monster Chronicles. Through it, I can acquire Taoist skills. Do I stand a chance of becoming a Taoist Alliance Heavenly Master one day?" Song Lin pondered internally. He then shook his head, deeming the objective excessively ambitious. It would be more prudent to start with a more attainable goal: earning the Grand Commissioner Talisman and becoming a True Taoist.

He returned to his quarters, realizing it was well past midnight. Despite his fatigue, Song Lin found himself unable to retire. Instead, he immersed himself in the world of the Lao Mountain Taoist. While mere hours had elapsed in the outside world, six months had swiftly passed within the narrative.

The illusory realm of cause and effect remained in a state much like when he had departed.

Song Lin, upon consulting the ancient scripture to review his status, was instantly struck dumb with astonishment.

"Hm? Do items from the macroscopic world possess the ability to be carried into this place?"

Name: Song Lin

Realm: Meditation Stage

Taoist Realm: Six months

Divine Skill: Bat Bright Eyes Technique

Items: Three Yang Fire Sword, Qi Nourishing Pills, Hidden Dragon Breath Emission Powder

The Hidden Dragon Breath Emission Powder, an elixir designed to amplify latent potential, was an item he had confiscated from Zhang Jin.

Its formulation was straightforward, yet fraught with peril. It necessitated the amalgamation of venom from precisely eighteen venomous serpents and toads, a process intended to invigorate potential through toxic compounds.

A solitary error in execution could transform it into a lethal agent.

Even within the clandestine confines of the Ghost Market, no merchant dared to procure such an item—its true nature, whether poison or potent medicine, remained an enigma.

"Alas, even within this domain, it exists merely as an element of the illusion. Wait, no—I have the opportunity to conduct experiments here initially. Should my endeavors prove successful, I can then replicate the procedure in the corporeal realm," Song Lin apprehended with a flicker of exhilaration.

He had unearthed a more profound utility within the Monster Chronicles, and his pulse quickened with fervent anticipation.

Not only could he attain Taoist skills from this fabricated existence,

but he was also afforded the chance to rigorously test authentic Taoist methodologies within the secure confines of this temporal, illusory domain. Mistakes and hazards posed no consequence to this digital simulacrum.

Although direct extraction of physical items was not feasible, the acquisition of invaluable experience was certainly within his grasp.

And should all other avenues prove unsuccessful, he possessed the capacity to amass fulfillment of karma and leverage it to distill knowledge and proficiencies from the illusionary construct.