Master Of Curses
Volume 1 ; Junior Disciple Wudi Egun
Chapter 1 ; Corpse Demon Ancient Sect
When he slowly opened his eyes, a faint sense of disorientation lingered within his mind. His vision blurred for a brief moment before gradually clearing, and what greeted him caused his pupils to shrink in shock.
He found himself confined within a crude iron cage.
The cage swayed rhythmically, accompanied by the creaking sound of wooden wheels rolling against uneven ground. Only then did he realize—it was being pulled by a carriage.
Inside the cage, he was not alone.
Several youths were crammed together in the confined space. Their expressions varied—some sat with their heads lowered, their faces filled with despair, as if they had already accepted their fate. Others trembled quietly, fear evident in their eyes. A few glanced around uneasily, their expressions uncertain, as though they still could not comprehend what was happening to them.
A heavy silence filled the cage, broken only by the occasional rattling of chains and the dull rumble of the carriage.
He frowned slightly.
What… is going on here?
Before he could think further, a sharp pain suddenly pierced through his head.
"Ugh—!"
His expression twisted as he instinctively clutched his head. The pain was not ordinary—it felt as if countless fragments were being forcefully crammed into his mind all at once.
Memories.
But not his own.
Images, emotions, experiences—none of them belonged to him, yet they surged violently within his consciousness like a raging tide. The overwhelming influx caused his breathing to become uneven as a dull groan escaped his lips.
Moments later, as the pain gradually subsided, clarity followed.
His eyes widened slightly.
"I see…"
He finally understood.
He… had possessed someone else's body.
The owner of this body was a young boy named Wudi Egun.
And his current situation… was far from fortunate.
Wudi Egun had been an orphan since childhood, with no family or support to rely on. In order to survive, he had worked as a servant for a minor noble family in a small, unremarkable place known as Iron Horse City.
His life had been humble, but stable.
Until it wasn't.
In order to curry favor with a powerful force, those very nobles had sold him off—without hesitation, without mercy—to the Corpse Demon Ancient Sect.
A sect infamous for its cruel and sinister methods.
Because of that, he now found himself here—trapped inside this cage, being transported alongside other unfortunate youths toward that very sect, escorted by its disciples.
"I see…" he muttered softly once again.
Strangely, despite fully understanding his situation, there was no overwhelming fear rising within him.
Instead…
There was a faint sense of excitement.
He had been nothing more than an ordinary young man from the modern world—Earth.
And now, through some unimaginable twist of fate, he had transmigrated into a world where Immortal Cultivation truly existed.
Wasn't this just like the stories and fantasy novels he used to read?
A slight smile formed on his lips.
Nervousness lingered, yes—but it was accompanied by an undeniable thrill.
He slowly shifted his gaze outside the cage.
Not far from the carriage, several young men and women rode atop imposing steeds.
But these were no ordinary horses.
Their bodies were dark as ink, their muscles taut and powerful. Faint, eerie flames flickered along their bodies—around their hooves, their manes, and even their tails—giving them a sinister, otherworldly appearance.
From the memories he had inherited, he immediately recognized them.
Faint Flame Demonic Horses.
A type of Demonic Beast known for its ferocity and strength, commonly used by Demonic Cultivators.
The riders themselves were equally unsettling.
They wore long crimson robes, the color deep and rich like fresh blood. The fabric fluttered with the movement of their mounts, enhancing their already sinister presence.
Wudi Egun unconsciously swallowed.
At their waists hung swords, their blades occasionally catching the afternoon sunlight. Each glint of light reflected from those weapons sent a chill down his spine.
These were not people to be trifled with.
The carriage continued forward, steadily making its way through a narrow path.
They were climbing through a valley.
The surrounding terrain grew increasingly desolate, the atmosphere heavy and oppressive, as if even the air itself carried a faint sense of malice.
After some time, the path opened slightly.
Ahead, a wooden gate came into view.
It was large, weathered, and aged, yet it stood firmly like a silent guardian. Beside it hung an equally old wooden signboard.
Carved into it were several bold characters—
Western Corpse Valley.
After passing through the gate of Western Corpse Valley, the scenery before him changed drastically.
What entered his sight was a vast stretch of land—an enormous field that seemed to extend endlessly within the valley.
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary farmland.
But the moment his gaze lingered, a strange discomfort crept into his heart.
Eerie plants were growing across the land.
They appeared completely ordinary—no unusual colors, no grotesque shapes, nothing that would immediately alarm someone at a casual glance. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, they radiated a deeply sinister aura that made one's skin crawl.
Wudi Egun swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
For some reason… he could see it.
Faint, wind-like shadows seemed to swirl around those plants, drifting and coiling like invisible spirits. They were subtle—so subtle that one could easily miss them—but once noticed, they were impossible to ignore.
A cold sensation ran down his spine.
The land itself was vast—far larger than any ordinary farmland. It was clear that the entire valley had been turned into a place dedicated solely to cultivating these eerie plants.
He didn't know what they were.
But one thing was certain—
They were not something good.
What puzzled him even more was that the other youths inside the cage showed no reaction at all.
They sat there quietly, their expressions still filled with fear and despair, yet none of them seemed to notice anything unusual about the plants outside.
"What is going on…?" he muttered inwardly, confusion surfacing within him.
Was he the only one who could sense it?
Or rather… see it?
He couldn't understand.
Was there something wrong with him… or something special?
The question lingered in his mind, unanswered.
After a while, the carriage gradually slowed down before finally coming to a stop.
Not far ahead, an old man stood waiting, accompanied by several young men.
The moment the carriage halted and the disciples dismounted from their horses, the old man stepped forward and cupped his fists respectfully.
"I, Yan Dan, Valley Master of the Western Corpse Valley, greet the Outer Disciples," he said in a humble tone.
The old man wore a long red robe similar to the others in the valley.
Though he stood at around five feet eight inches tall, his body was thin and frail, giving him a somewhat weak appearance.
However, his eyes were sharp—far from that of a helpless old man.
"Valley Master Yan," a young man spoke.
He was tall, well-built, and handsome, carrying himself with a natural sense of confidence. A faint smile rested on his lips as he casually pointed toward the cage.
"We have brought a total of one hundred new Corpse Slaves for use in this valley."
Wudi Egun's eyes widened slightly upon hearing this.
One hundred?
Although the cage was indeed crowded, he hadn't imagined there were that many people inside. The realization made the space feel even more suffocating.
"Thank you, Lord Cao. I am truly grateful that you took the effort to personally deliver these Corpse Slaves to us," Yan Dan replied with a bright, almost flattering smile.
"Mm. We will be taking our leave now."
The young man—Lord Cao—gave a slight nod before turning around. With a single motion, he mounted his demonic horse and rode off.
The other disciples followed closely behind, their crimson robes fluttering as they quickly disappeared into the distance.
Only after they were gone did Yan Dan slowly turn his gaze toward the cage.
His eyes swept across the newly arrived Corpse Slaves without much emotion.
Then, he turned his head slightly toward a burly man standing beside him—someone who was also dressed in a red robe.
"Long Fu, take care of these new Corpse Slaves. Teach them what they need to do," Yan Dan said indifferently.
"I will take my leave."
Without waiting for a response, he turned around and left at an unhurried pace, showing not the slightest concern for the fate of those in the cage.
To him, they were no different from tools.
Or perhaps… not even that.
After the Valley Master left, the atmosphere shifted almost instantly.
Long Fu slowly stepped forward.
A sinister smile spread across his face.
He licked his lips in a disturbing manner, his gaze sweeping across the group like a predator sizing up its prey.
The mere sight of him caused the new Corpse Slaves to shudder in fear.
Even Wudi Egun felt a wave of discomfort rise within him.
"Listen carefully," Long Fu began, his voice cold and devoid of warmth.
"Let me introduce myself."
"I am Long Fu—a Servant Disciple of the Corpse Demon Ancient Sect… and from now on, your Senior Brother."
His words were simple, yet they carried an invisible pressure that made it hard for anyone to breathe.
The group of new Corpse Slaves looked at him with fear-filled eyes, none daring to speak.
"As Corpse Slaves," he continued slowly, "you have only three main duties."
He raised a finger.
"First—Corpse Sealing."
"You will be responsible for sealing corpses using Corpse Sealing Talismans."
Another finger.
"Second—Corpse Farming."
He paused deliberately, letting his gaze wander across each and every one of them.
Slowly.
Leisurely.
As if he was savoring their fear.
Whenever his eyes landed on someone, that person would stiffen, their heartbeat seemingly stopping for a moment.
"Of course," he went on with a faint smile, "this is not like ordinary farming."
"In Corpse Farming… you do not plant seeds."
"You plant corpses."
A ripple of horror spread across the group.
"And from those corpses," he continued calmly, "you will grow Corpse Essence Plants… which are to be harvested once every year."
His smile deepened.
"You are quite fortunate."
"The harvest has not yet been completed this year… which means you will get to experience it the moment you begin your new lives here."
His tone almost sounded… pleased.
"As Corpse Slaves."
A few people nearly collapsed on the spot, their faces turning pale.
"Finally," Long Fu said, raising a third finger, "your last duty—grinding Corpse Powder."
"You will grind corpses into fine powder, which will then be used as cultivation ingredients by the disciples of the sect."
Silence fell.
A suffocating, crushing silence.
The expressions of the new Corpse Slaves turned deathly pale. Some trembled uncontrollably, while others looked as if they might faint at any moment.
Despair.
Fear.
Disbelief.
All of it filled the air.
Yet…
Wudi Egun stood there quietly.
Surprisingly calm.
Even he himself did not understand why.
In a place like this ,hearing such things…
Why was he still able to remain so composed?
That question lingered silently within his heart.
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