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This phenomenon was due to Weak Old Man’s Stranger bloodline, the Plague Goat. The Plague Goat was a Disaster-class Stranger with a goat’s head and a human’s body. It had two horns that were curled like crescents, and it spread sickness and calamity wherever it went. Everyone who caught its plague would feel weak in the limbs and cough violently. When their heart and lungs had weakened to a certain extent, they would begin coughing up blood. Eventually, they all died.

Back when Weak Old Man was still a child, a Plague Goat had appeared in his town and infected all one thousand or so civilians with its plague. They tried desperately to cure or stall its progression to no avail. By the time the men dispatched by the imperial court arrived, nearly everyone in the entire town had succumbed to the plague already.

Weak Old Man had lost both his parents and his relatives to the plague. He was the only one in his family to survive it.

Of course, he had caught the plague as well.

The soldiers were planning to burn everyone both alive or dead to prevent the plague from spreading. Naturally, Weak Old Man was unwilling to succumb to such a gruesome fate. He managed to avoid detection for a time by hiding underneath a pile of bodies, but the soldiers soon discovered him and gave chase.

While Weak Old Man was escaping, he accidentally entered a swamp that was chock-full of all kinds of diseases, deadly insects and more. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Weak Old Man somehow subsumed the plague inside him and awakened the Plague Goat’s bloodline. Since then, his ascension could not be stopped.

However, there was no such thing as an absolutely beneficial boon in this world. The Plague Goat’s bloodline was powerful, but it was also too powerful. Unable to fully control his bloodline’s power, he became infected by his own plague and was stuck with a weak body. It was how he got his title.

He didn’t like his title as a matter of course, but what could he do? He really was weak.

But of course, he was just weak in body. His power was a completely different story.

He could unleash the Plague Goat’s plague and infect anyone with an incredible disease with a single sneeze or breath.

Just now, he noticed a woman who seemed hostile toward him and did not hesitate to unleash his plague. Hence the unusual change in the environment around him.

Weak Old Man was never merciful toward enemies, and he did not believe that the woman could survive his plague.

He was wrong, however. Weak Old Man’s eyes slowly widened when he saw the woman walking through his plague cloud without a scratch.

The woman’s short height and innocent face gave her the appearance of a young girl, but she was filled in all the right places. She wore a long dress with colorful ribbons dancing all around her. It gave her an elegant and graceful appearance.

Right now, the woman was making an auspicious mudra while wearing a bright smile on her face. The ribbons dancing around her were creating waves of light that dispelled the plague in the air and the taint on the ground. She seemed untouchable like a goddess who had descended from the heavens.

“Cough cough… who are you, and why are you blocking my way?” Weak Old Man asked with a serious expression. Although he did not sense any killing intent from the woman, she definitely possessed the power to threaten his life.

“My name is Dancer. I am one of the Four Divinities serving under Lakshmi of the Gandharvas, one of the Eight Legions of Devas and Nagas.”

Dancer introduced herself in a soft, gentle voice.

“The Eight Legions of Devas and Nagas? The Gandharvas?” Weak Old Man thought long and hard until a memory hit him, and he blanched immediately. “Do you mean the legendary Eight Legions of Devas and Nagas?”

“The one and truly,” Dancer answered.

Weak Old Man gulped at the confirmation and responded in a meek tone, “Well met, Divinity. What do you want with little ol’ me? I shall die a thousand deaths to fulfill your request.”

He wasn’t a coward, but the Eight Legions of Devas and Nagas were seriously bad news. So bad, that the mere mention of their name sent chills up his spine.

“Very good.”

Dancer nodded with a smile. Her smile was bright, beautiful, and auspicious, but her next words chilled Weak Old Man to the core,

“I would like to borrow your head.”

“That’s a funny joke, Divinity,” Weak Old Man replied with a smile that didn’t reach the eye.

“You misunderstand me. I never joke,” Dancer replied.

“If you must force my hand, then so be it.”

Weak Old Man’s eyes turned cold. It was clear that there was little chance he was going to wriggle his way out with words. In that case, he did not mind staking it all for a chance to survive.

It was true that he feared the Eight Legions of Devas and Nagas, and he was willing to do anything to appease them. However, that was only assuming that he would be alive after all was said and done.

He was a survivor who once hid beneath a pile of rotting, disease-ridden bodies to stay alive. It was clear that his desire to live was greater than most. However, just because he had an undying lust for life did not mean he feared death.

Having made up his mind, Weak Old Man’s head slowly transformed into a goat’s. A pair of curled horns covered in plague fire slowly grew out of his scalp.

When a Stranger’s bloodline was pushed to its limit, the host would transform into a Stranger. That was what was happening to Weak Old Man right now. Knowing that he could not afford to hold back, he had transformed into the Plague Goat without hesitation and unleashed all the power he possessed.

The Plague Goat was a Disaster-class Stranger and the equivalent of a human Grandmaster. Of course, Weak Old Man wasn’t a Grandmaster and so could not unleash the power of a Grandmaster even after fully awakening his bloodline. Even so, the attack was far, far stronger than what he could’ve brought forth as a human.

Naturally, the decision was incredibly risky. After all, he hadn’t fully mastered his bloodline yet. At full power, it was entirely possible he would lose control of his power, fall unconscious, and transform into a true Plague Goat in both heart and soul.

He had no choice though. Considering the circumstances, he couldn’t afford to hold back. It was do or die.

Boom!

After Weak Old Man had transformed into a Plague Goat, he let out a mighty roar that could bend steel and shatter rocks. The next moment, he slammed a bony scepter against the ground.

The yellow sand beneath his feet turned grayish black as his plague infected every grain. Then, it surged into the air and pounced toward Dancer like a diseased dragon.

The plague sand looked like it could crush heaven and earth into bits. In response, Dancer smiled and parted her lips a little. She exhaled, and her sweet breath transformed into a gust of wind that clashed against the plague sand directly.

The wind was soft, gentle, and full of wonder. Like the spring wind that melted the cold of winter, it too scattered the tidal wave of taint in front of her.

The plague sand that was like a dragon scattered into nothing, and everything was back to normal.

For a few seconds, Weak Old Man simply stood there with a dumb look on his face.

When the spring wind passed, his head suddenly fell off his neck like a ripe apple.

The spring wind came, and the human head fell.

……

“Hah… hah… I should be safe now, right?”

A man was leaning against a rock and removing a waterskin from his waist. He took a few deep gulps before his pallid complexion finally regained a bit of rosiness.

His name was Fan Yiming, and he was a middle-stage Spirit Master. They called him the “Little Cyclone”. An expert in movement arts and sprinting, he was somewhat famous in Bei Mo.

This was the first time he participated in the Treasure Appreciation Auction, and he had gotten very, very lucky. Not only did he purchased a Spirit Master stage martial art called the “Seven Climax of The Waves”, he even managed to buy a century-old vermillion jujube and a Soulstealer-class Strange Artifact for cheap. It was a worthwhile trip overall.