After heaving a long sigh, Grey took his first step into the deep cave. The mont his foot crossed the threshold, a faint echo rippled through the air, spreading down the stone passage like a whispered greeting from the earth itself. The air grew colder, heavier, filled with the scent of damp rock and ancient stillness. His shadow stretched long and thin across the uneven ground as faint traces of spirit light shimred along the walls, illuminating strange patterns that might have been natural, or might not have been.
Based on his calculations, he estimated that less than a week remained before the rains ca. And when that ti arrived, he wanted to already be in the underground cavern, ready to obtain so of the Golden Syrup. The thought of that golden, spiritual liquid stirred a quiet determination within him. It was not greed, but necessity. Every cultivator in Green City knew that when the rains ca, the underground caverns would shift, flood, and collapse in unpredictable ways. Missing the opportunity now ant waiting another, who know how long.
For that single reason, Grey had chosen to enter the cave without hesitation, even though he had not conducted his usual detailed exploration beforehand. It was risky, reckless even, but he trusted his instincts and the calculations he had made.
From the old texts of Sky Mist , he had learned that these underground caverns descended hundreds of ters beneath the earth, with so said to stretch for over a thousand ters deep. Others were rumored to connect to vast subterranean lakes or forgotten ruins buried since the ancient age. To many cultivators, the idea of venturing so deep was madness. But to Grey, who could cross a hundred feet in a heartbeat, distance was hardly an obstacle.
What truly made these caverns dangerous was not their depth but their complexity. They branched endlessly, twisting like veins beneath the mountains, many of them ending abruptly in dead ends. It was said that countless cultivators had ventured down here over the years, only to vanish without a trace, swallowed by the labyrinth of stone. One wrong turn, one mont of carelessness, and even the strongest could wander until their spiritual energy ran dry.
That was why Grey did not hold back. He released the entirety of his cultivation base, allowing his perception to expand outward in all directions like an invisible tide. Spirit energy surged from him, sweeping across the stone walls and through the winding tunnels, mapping every crevice and contour within his reach.
The ground and the walls trembled faintly, as the weight of his power pressed through the cavern. Dust fell from the ceiling, pebbles skittering across the ground as faint echoes reverberated into the distance. Even though he had not yet descended fifty ters, the mountain reacted to his presence, as if acknowledging the strength of the force that had entered its depths. Yet, after a few monts, the tremor subsided, leaving behind only an eerie silence.
Now, his perception blanketed a vast area. Confident, Grey burst forward, his body a blur of motion. His eyes glead faintly with a purple light as he shot through the tunnels like an arrow loosed from a bow. His robes fluttered behind him, brushing against the cool air that seed to grow thicker and denser the deeper he went.
He kept his spirit energy circulating in steady rhythm, intertwining it with his Cold Yin energy. It was an instinctive precaution. Down here, within the earth’s unseen depths, danger could erge from anywhere,lurking beasts, hidden traps, or even ancient arrays left behind by cultivators from ages past.
But as Grey ventured deeper, sothing began to change. The deeper he went, the stronger the strange connection he felt between himself and the mountain beca. It was subtle at first, a faint vibration, an echo within his chest, but with every ter, it grew stronger, as though the mountain itself was breathing in sync with him.
He slowed his pace, his eyes narrowing. A faint furrow appeared between his brows. ’Why do I feel this... familiarity? ’ He thought. He had never been here before, never even approached this section of the mountains, yet the air, the energy, even the faint hum of the spirit veins buried deep in the rock, all of it felt achingly familiar, like a half-rembered dream.
Then, sothing stirred within him. The purple crystal embedded in his chest, long dormant and silent, suddenly began to thrum faintly. A chill spread from it, seeping into his bones and flowing through his ridians like liquid frost. It was not uncomfortable; instead, it was soothing. His thoughts sharpened, his breathing slowed, and every motion he made felt smoother, more precise. It was as though his entire body had beco a well-tuned instrunt, guided by an unseen rhythm.
Grey glanced down at his chest for a mont, the faintest flicker of purple light pulsing beneath his skin. "You again..." he murmured quietly, though no answer ca.
Normally, Qi Accumulation cultivators like him were also known as body refiners or Qi refiners. They lacked the destructive arts of higher realms, but compensated by hardening their bodies and tempering their Qi through sheer will and repetition. Only upon breaking through to the Foundation Establishnt realm would they begin to master true cultivation techniques and spiritual arts. That was where the real foundation of power began.
Yet this reaction from the crystal... this strange resonance with the mountain, none of it fit into anything he understood. Grey had no explanation for it, but deep within, he could feel it: the crystal was responding to the misty mountain ranges above, as though sothing ancient within both was calling to the other.
The energy within him pulsed again, faint and rhythmic, rging with the whispers of the cave. For the first ti since he entered, Grey felt the faintest hint of unease, an instinct not of fear, but of recognition.
Whatever secret these mountains held, he was not rely intruding upon it.
He was returning to it.
"This is getting creepy..."
**☺️😉**
User Comments
0 comments from readers