Chapter Eighty: The Warrior

In the once pristine, azure expanse of the endless sky, a deep blue fissure a hundred feet long was now etched across its breadth. The gash writhed and curled as if alive, shifting subtly in the heavens. Within its depths, shadowy outlines of towering mountains, rivers, and sandy shores could be glimpsed, each scene magnificent and awe-inspiring, with the roar of tides and the clamor of waves resounding to the sky.

It was as though another world lay concealed within the fissure—one of vast majesty and exquisite beauty.

“Though the Huaiwu Cave is but a low-grade artifact and lacks prowess in combat, it possesses an inner realm,” said Wei Lingjiang, who stood beside him, gazing up at the sky’s breach with a soft voice.

“It is said to absorb spiritual essence from all directions, fostering life within, and can even produce various beasts and birds. Seeing it today, though the rumors are somewhat exaggerated, they are not wholly false.”

“An artifact…” Chen Heng’s eyes flickered.

All around, the sky was filled with pavilions and colorful halls, winding corridors, and countless flying boats and carriages sparkling with spiritual light. Crowds surged; the air was alive with voices, friends calling to one another, lively and boisterous.

Today was the day the restrictions on the Huaiwu Cave were lifted, when the top three would be decided.

All the local sects and wandering cultivators, as well as representatives from small clans, had gathered. Though the self-destruction of an artifact the previous day had obliterated nearly ten islands and claimed countless lives, so many delegations had come to observe that none would withdraw because of such turmoil.

Moreover, the true culprit, the old fiend Miao Nan and the Fivefold Rising Sun Banner, had perished, annihilated in the moment of the artifact’s self-destruction—the disaster had settled, and the dust had fallen.

To calm the fearful masses, the master of Huaiwu Cave had spared no expense. Not only were countless talisman coins scattered, but every guest received a bottle of Yellow Cang Pill, which could strengthen the foundation and invigorate the blood.

The pill was gentle in its properties and offered substantial benefits—not only to those in the embryonic breathing stage, but even for cultivators in the ninth return of qi refinement, it had some effect.

And this was just the ordinary gift. For those unfortunate enough to perish in the artifact’s explosion, rumor had it the cave master compensated their families as well, though Chen Heng knew none of the details.

If not for the master’s ties to demonic forces and sinister intentions, Chen Heng himself would have been moved by such generosity.

With this lavish gesture, the number of spectators had not diminished from fear of the incident, but actually increased, drawn by the generous gifts.

The cave master’s reputation for benevolence and philanthropy grew even brighter after this event, praised by all.

…

At that moment, a high, resonant bell suddenly rang through the heavens. With its sound, the fissure in the clouds curled and twisted into a vast, swirling portal.

“The hour has come, fellow young Daoists, please proceed!”

From an island at the center of Floating Jade Lake, the cave master’s gentle laughter echoed.

A tremendous suction emanated from the great portal, drawing countless cultivators of qi refinement and foundation-building into its depths. Like weary birds returning to the forest, faces lit with joy, they vanished into the Huaiwu Cave.

“You—”

Chen Heng was just about to move when Wei Lingjiang suddenly grabbed his sleeve.

…

The Huaiwu Cave’s trial only allowed those in the stages of qi refinement and foundation-building to enter, with a three-day limit.

Of the top three, only one true cultivator from the foundation-building stage could place, while two from qi refinement would be chosen, making three in total.

Though foundation-building cultivators could not oppress the weaker directly—such would violate the artifact’s rules and result in expulsion by its spirit—scheming and tricks were inevitable, both openly and covertly.

Even with the spirit’s oversight, the battles among hundreds remain difficult to monitor; deaths are not uncommon, whether at the hands of spiritual beasts or fellow cultivators.

Once inside, though some protection exists, life and death are no longer in one’s control.

And to contend for the top three, the dangers only multiply.

…

“In any case, the cave master has already given us Crane Embryo Pills and has his eyes on us…”

Countless cultivators vanished in streaks of light, drawn into the Huaiwu Cave, leaving the pavilions and halls empty.

Wei Lingjiang, still holding Chen Heng’s sleeve, hesitated for once, sending him a message:

“I cannot accompany you inside. It will surely be perilous. Perhaps… let it go?”

The top three were carefully selected by the cave master to be demonic vessels, meant for the exercise of demonic arts. Not only would the artifact’s spirit watch closely, but competition for placement would inevitably involve battle.

Her Purple Clear True Qi was of superior quality; if she acted, even with concealment, it would be hard to escape notice, and so using herself as bait would be futile.

“If the Crane Embryo Pill is just a minor move, and the cave master only intends to make the top three his demonic vessels, sparing us both?”

“How?” Wei Lingjiang shook her head. “That hardly seems likely.”

“But it is possible, isn’t it?” Chen Heng glanced at her and smiled. “Did we not agree I would act as bait, exposing the cave master’s crimes? This way, my worries are gone and your senior sister’s opportunity is preserved. Isn’t it ideal?”

“But I cannot go in with you, you—”

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Wei Lingjiang grew inexplicably anxious.

“We still have the Golden Light Divine Talisman, there’s no need to worry. None of them can harm me. I’ll save the talisman for the cave master at the end,” Chen Heng interrupted her.

Her fair, radiant face lifted, exquisite brows furrowing in displeasure.

He looked at her clear, anxious eyes, stunned for a moment, then unconsciously turned his gaze aside and fell silent.

In that instant, it was as if a pair of similarly clear eyes rose in his heart.

Wei Lingjiang kept speaking, but Chen Heng felt as if he had been pricked.

Again…

In his previous life, there had been someone who looked at him this way, holding his hand, saying familiar words…

“Can senior sister accompany me for a moment, but not for a lifetime?”

After a few breaths, Chen Heng’s gaze flickered, his lashes trembling, and he recovered from his daze.

He said nothing more, just bowed and smiled:

“I do not wish to owe you anything else.”

By now, the pavilions and halls were nearly empty.

After a brief bow, Chen Heng ceased resisting the immense suction from the Huaiwu Cave, raised his breath, and transformed into a streak of white light, entering the cave like the hundreds before him.

After a dizzying upheaval, Chen Heng steadied himself midair, his face showing a hint of surprise.

“So this is the inner realm?”

…

…

Before him lay a boundless wild forest, with peaks rising to the clouds in endless succession, their limits unseen.

The roar and cries of countless beasts echoed, and far off, beams of light darted low, entangled with a giant golden-feathered eagle—shouts and screeches mingling in the air.

Chen Heng glanced briefly, then withdrew his gaze.

Within the Huaiwu Cave, the spiritual energy was two or three times greater than outside—exceptionally abundant. With a mere turn of his qi refinement art, spiritual force surged eagerly into his body.

If he could draw out all the energy within the artifact, as he had once drained Yang Mountain, perhaps even his Jade Body cultivation would leap from the fifth to the sixth realm…

Just then, a crimson stream of fire descended from the sky. Chen Heng calmly waved his sleeve, catching the fire in his hand.

Looking closely, it was a porcelain bottle, three inches tall, with a jade-white, clean sheen.

“According to the master’s rules, each beast slain must have its essence captured in this bottle. After three days, when the results are counted, for qi refiners like you, only the amount of essence in the bottle determines your rank… Oh, only one foundation cultivator is chosen, two from qi refinement, but the competition is fierce.”

At that moment, an elderly woman’s voice sounded in Chen Heng’s mind.

At the end, she added,

“Though you may use the essence as you wish, if you hope to vie for the top three, don’t squander it in the inner realm. Ranking depends solely on the total in your bottle. If you hastily refine it, it won’t count.”

“Thank you for your guidance,” Chen Heng replied, recognizing the artifact spirit and bowing.

Such artifacts often possess true consciousness—speech and manner not unlike ordinary people—and such abilities are not surprising.

“You’re quite the handsome one, truly exquisite!” the elderly voice resumed.

“Out of pity for your good looks, I’ll say one more thing. Though I oversee this inner realm, I cannot prevent everything. Beware not only the beasts, but also your fellow qi refiners!”

With that, the voice fell silent.

Chen Heng meditated briefly, then flew toward a mountain in the southeast, landing in a cave hollowed out by predecessors.

Its walls bore the marks of axes and chisels, weathered by rain, giving it a venerable air.

He inspected the cave, finding nothing amiss. With a small wind-and-mist spell, he cleared out the debris, then placed a meditation mat from his spatial bag, and began refining the porcelain bottle given by the artifact spirit.

Though the bottle was a talisman artifact, like his spatial bag it was only of the lowest grade, with but a single great prohibition, making it inferior.

After three or four incense sticks’ worth of time, Chen Heng had subdued its aura and finished refining it. He stowed the mat and rose.

As he was about to leave, his spatial bag stirred with unusual energy, and the voice of Ancestor Fucan sounded in his mind.

“I say, instead of hunting these beasts, why not wait here for the last day and snatch their bottles directly?”

The old man’s voice was smug.

“How about it? Isn’t this a fine plan? I learned it from Chen Daozheng, that demon disciple—when the Eastern Sea Dragon Palace sought a son-in-law, Chen Daozheng used this trick, fooled everyone, even corrupted me!”

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“It’s not such an extraordinary idea. For Ancestor to remember such a simple scheme so long shows your honest nature,” Chen Heng said lightly. “But who is Chen Daozheng? A disciple of the Six Demon Sects?”

“Hmph!” Fucan Ancestor was annoyed at his plan being dismissed. “Chen Daozheng? You’ll meet him soon enough. Then you’ll have to call him elder brother!”

“Elder brother?”

“You’ll learn what that means in time, but…”

He suddenly chuckled.

“Just now, while you were busy, I didn’t disturb you. But your good senior sister was worried for your safety, urging you not to enter. Tell me, Chen Heng, did your heart waver?”

Fucan Ancestor waited in the bag, but received no answer.

“You must have some story hidden! Your demeanor and tone—after so many years, I can tell you’ve suffered from fate, and it’s a matter of love and enmity!”

Seeing Chen Heng silent, Fucan Ancestor went on:

“You’re like… like a yellow dog cast out by its master—no matter how you howl, you cannot enter, forced to wander the streets, sun and wind forging you into iron-heartedness! If a kind soul gives you meat, your nature makes you suspect it’s poisoned—you dare not eat!”

Chen Heng only smiled faintly.

“Ancestor likes to guess, perhaps from reading too many tales.”

“You see! That’s just how it is!” Fucan Ancestor grew excited, then puzzled. “But you’re so young—what grief could you have? Is it from your previous life? Wait, you still retain wisdom from before?! This gets interesting! What great sect were you from last time?”

Chen Heng merely focused, sensing where the beasts’ aura was strongest, ignoring the ancestor’s ramblings.

“I know you think I’m long-winded. I’ll just ask one last thing!”

After half a day talking to himself, with no audience, Fucan Ancestor licked his dry lips:

“You always say a troubled heart is a cultivator’s bane. So just now, did you—”

“A bull approaches, Ancestor, be silent.”

Chen Heng cut him off, adding,

“If you don’t hold your tongue, the wine in the bag may suffer some damage.”

“……”

Fucan Ancestor’s voice stopped abruptly. He glared, then closed his eyes and played dead.

At that moment, a fiery red bull with flaming hooves sensed Chen Heng and bellowed like thunder.

Before it could approach, a blue sword shadow flew from Chen Heng’s sleeve.

With a single strike, the bull was cleaved in two, dead in an instant!

No blood fell; instead, a stream of essence appeared, trying to escape, but Chen Heng caught it and absorbed it into his palm.

“This essence is indeed abundant… If I gather a few thousand more, my cultivation will advance another layer.”

After testing it in the true law realm, Chen Heng refined the essence, his expression showing a hint of joy.

With the bull’s death, the mountain forest shook, dust rising as dozens more mighty bulls charged forth, brimming with ferocity!

“Seems my luck is good—landed right in a herd.”

He pointed, and the blue sword circling in the clouds sang, transforming into a rainbow and cleaving down!

This time, half an hour passed.

After the herd was slain, Chen Heng collected their essences in the bottle, and, seeing no further activity, soared onward.

Shortly after his departure, several beams of light descended upon the mountain.

“Hm? Didn’t you say there was a herd here? Where is it?” asked a heroic youth, frowning at his companion.

“Wouldn’t dare! Wouldn’t dare! My junior sister saw it herself and sent word. She was too weak to capture the herd and asked me for help,” replied the questioned man, sweating profusely and bowing in apology. “Your martial skills are divine, truly divine—even with a hundred lives, I wouldn’t dare deceive you!”

His flattery was so excessive that his companions turned away in embarrassment, while the youth, Yuan Yangsheng, laughed heartily.

“You cultivators used to scorn me as a crude, rustic martial artist, saying I’d never touch immortality’s threshold, let alone become a Martial Saint!”

He raised his brow in triumph, his laughter full of delight.

“How is it you now grovel as prisoners, so respectful?”

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