Beast Taming: I Have an Immortal Mansion-Chapter 66: Swirling Black Sand

Tens of thousands of feet high in the sky, a Floating Cloud Giant Ship was slowly advancing. Although its pace was slow, it was still faster than the flight speed of an average Qi Refining Cultivator.

A thick Spiritual Power barrier flowed ceaselessly, blocking the gale-force winds generated by the ship’s passage. Below was a vast ocean of mist, and from time to time, creatures that lived in the clouds would curiously chase the Giant Ship from a distance.

Fang Qingyuan stood on the deck of the Flying Boat, captivated by the scenery before him.

Much of the scenery along the way was new to Fang Qingyuan. The peculiar creatures living in the misty clouds and the flying fish swimming through the high altitudes truly broadened his horizons.

"Fellow Daoist Fang, out admiring the scenery again?"

The speaker was a Cultivator nearing sixty, with a long beard. His name was Bao Rensheng, a Ninth-Layer Qi Refining Cultivator. He was Bao Xiao’Er’s distant paternal uncle and was currently serving as a Steward in the trading team.

It was through him that Fang Qingyuan had made his connection, and he was now in charge of overseeing Fang Qingyuan’s first trading run.

Over the past few days, Fang Qingyuan hadn’t interacted much with the other Cultivators in the caravan. His routine was quite regular: he would either meditate, go down to play with Yinbao, or come up to the deck to admire the scenery.

Bao Rensheng had been observing Fang Qingyuan for a long time but hadn’t noticed anything special about him. In his mind, Fang Qingyuan was just another disciple from Beast Taming Mountain looking to earn some Spirit Stones.

Seeing Bao Rensheng approach, Fang Qingyuan said with a smile:

"It felt stuffy below, so I came up for some fresh air. Steward Bao, how do you have the time to come up here? Haven’t you been busy these past few days?"

Bao Rensheng laughed heartily but didn’t reply. Instead, he took a long-stemmed pipe from his storage bag, packed it with tobacco, and began to smoke. PUFF, PUFF.

Fang Qingyuan understood at once. ’So he was having a craving.’

In truth, Cultivators generally didn’t smoke tobacco, as it was harmful to the body. The accumulated toxins from years of smoking were not to be underestimated.

Most smokers were worldly mortals. Their lives were short, and they understood the need to seize pleasure when they could. Although tobacco was harmful, they didn’t care. By the time the toxins took effect, at least twenty or thirty years would have passed, and it was uncertain if they’d even still be around by then.

Tobacco interfered with cultivation. It was a form of self-indulgence, detrimental to future Breakthrough Realms and Foundation Establishment. Any Cultivator with ambition and drive would refuse to touch it.

Only a Cultivator like Bao Rensheng, who had no hope of reaching Foundation Establishment, wouldn’t care about such things.

After a few puffs, Bao Rensheng spoke:

"You can relax. Our Qianyang Trading Team has been running this route for decades. We’ve smoothed things over with all the tribes along the way. The journey will definitely be safe."

Fang Qingyuan nodded in agreement, but inwardly he wished Bao Rensheng would shut up. ’It was so unlucky to say such things before setting out; it felt like he was just constantly raising death flags.’

Fortunately, Bao Rensheng only boasted for a few more sentences before hurrying back down. He was the busiest of them all these days, because they were about to reach the Desert of Death.

Two days later, as the Floating Cloud Giant Ship slowly docked at the pier of an Immortal City built from black rock, groups of Cultivators, like ants, began to leave the "hive" they had been traveling in for a month.

Fang Qingyuan was in the middle of the crowd, moving along with the main group. But just as he stepped off the Giant Ship, a frantic gust of wind and sand assaulted him head-on.

Fortunately, the Wind Shield Array inscribed on his Tier One Middle-Grade Daoist Robe activated automatically, sparing him from getting a mouthful of sand.

Fang Qingyuan was fine, but a distressed cry came from Yinbao beneath him. For Yinbao, this place was absolutely terrible.

"We’ve reached Black Sand City! All Cultivators of the Qianyang Trading Team, gather over here!"

In the distance, Bao Rensheng shouted at the top of his lungs. His voice, amplified by Spiritual Power, cut through the thick sandstorm and reached every Cultivator’s ears clearly.

Guiding Yinbao, Fang Qingyuan braved the sandstorm and headed toward Bao Rensheng’s position.

After he arrived and waited for a short while, Bao Rensheng announced that everyone was accounted for. With no issues, the group set off toward the sea of sand in the distance.

Black Sand City wasn’t actually very large. It wasn’t one of the ten great cities of the Desert of Death, and in terms of both scale and fame, it was far inferior to the five cities of Yinku, Qianzhang, Huayan, Liuhuo, and Feilian.

However, a city like this was perfect for a trading team’s business. The larger cities were all monopolized by more powerful factions, leaving no room for independent operators to get a piece of the action.

Fang Qingyuan’s destination for this trip was a desert oasis seven thousand li from Black Sand City, a journey that would take them past a dozen or so small tribal settlements.

The Qianyang Trading Team consisted of over a hundred people on this trip. The leader was a Late-stage Foundation Establishment Loose Cultivator. There were three other Foundation Establishment Cultivators in the team, and the rest were all at the Qi Refining realm.

The leader almost never made an appearance; Fang Qingyuan hadn’t even seen him yet. The leader’s main role was to provide martial security, while day-to-day matters were handled by Stewards like Bao Rensheng.

Fang Qingyuan’s camel-skate was one of the larger Camel Beasts in the caravan. Looking down, he saw other Spirit Beasts like earth lizards and camels, and couldn’t help but wonder, ’Can these Camel Beasts even keep up?’

Among this group of Camel Beasts, flying ones were considered high-grade. Those that couldn’t fly could only walk on the desert floor. ’How slow would that be?’

However, Fang Qingyuan’s question was soon answered.

Just after they entered the desert, gusts of wind and sand began to swirl around them. The higher up they went, the stronger the sandstorm became. A hundred feet off the ground, the sand battered a person’s body like a dull knife scraping flesh.

Feeling the force of the sandstorm, Fang Qingyuan quickly had Yinbao lower its altitude, eventually copying the others and flying just above the ground.

After Fang Qingyuan came down, someone said to him with a laugh:

"This sandstorm is nothing. Wait until we’re a few hundred li deeper in. The sand there is black. The Black Sand has a baleful power flowing within it that will cut right through any Body-Protecting Spirit Shield. Even a Golden Bell Talisman won’t last ten breaths. So, don’t fly high unless you have to."

Hearing this, Fang Qingyuan’s expression soured. He had heard that the sandstorms in the Desert of Death were terrifying, but hearing about it and experiencing it firsthand were two completely different things.

Yinbao’s massive body hugged the surface of the sand, its bat-like wings rippling like waves as it moved forward. Sometimes it moved too quickly and nearly bumped into the camel ahead, which made it feel terribly wronged.

Seeing this, Fang Qingyuan quickly soothed it, promising to give it an extra meal when they returned. Only then was Yinbao coaxed out of its tantrum.

The way of beast taming wasn’t just about showing dominance. Compared to issuing harsh commands, Fang Qingyuan preferred a gentler approach. Besides, Yinbao was his first tamed beast, so Fang Qingyuan was naturally more lenient with it.

Of course, if coaxing didn’t work, Fang Qingyuan would have no choice but to let Yinbao meet its one true nemesis.

They traveled like this for two days without rest. On the morning of the third day, Fang Qingyuan heard cheers from within the caravan. They had finally arrived at the first tribal settlement of their journey.

As soon as their caravan entered the tribe’s territory, they were surrounded. In the end, it was the tribal chieftain who spoke up and had them invited into a tent.

Along the way, Fang Qingyuan observed that the tribe had only a few tens of thousands of people, yet the proportion of Cultivators among them was shockingly high.

Among the Cultivator Clans near Celestial Gate Mountain, there were only seven or eight Cultivators for every ten thousand people. But in this small tribe, a rough glance from Fang Qingyuan estimated that there were nearly twenty Cultivators per ten thousand people.

Such a high ratio was astounding, and Fang Qingyuan had been puzzled by it the whole way. But after he entered the chieftain’s tent, he understood a lot more.

Because the tent was filled with Magical Artifacts made from human skin and bone, and the chieftain seated in the place of honor exuded the undisguised aura of the Demonic Dao.