My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 553 - Li Yuans Response - Part 2
Meng Xingxian didn’t bother with pleasantries or ceremony. Her voice rang out, sharp and furious: “Are you really going to sit by and watch the ancestral lands fall back into chaos?!”
The wolf carriage came to a halt.
Meng Xingxian rode up, glaring fiercely, paying no heed to formality, or to her kinship.
From within the carriage came a hoarse voice.
“What would you have me do?”
Meng Xingxian shouted, “People! I need people! The more the flame’s withering affliction intensifies, the stronger the newborns become. But the price...is that it’s getting harder and harder for the women to conceive. The only way left is to bring in outside women, those newly pregnant, and let them live by the sacred flame. If I can gather enough of them, I might, just might, be able to make one final push before chaos fully descends!”
The carriage fell silent for a long while before a voice spoke from within.
“Perhaps...you should send an envoy to speak with the Human Emperor.”
“...” Meng Xingxian froze.
But the carriage had already rolled away into the snow.
She moved to give chase, but two crows called down from the sky, “Don’t bother!”
Only then did Meng Xingxian reluctantly turn back.
“Papa, where are we going now?” Sheng’er asked.
Li Yuan replied, “Back through the pass.”
“Alright, Papa!” she chirped.
Along the road, the Evernight continued its quiet advance, creeping several kilometers further east.
Blizzards howled across the land, scouring what remained. The carriage wheels crushed over forgotten villages, and through the frost-slick ground, one could just make out the shapes of birds, beasts, even demonic beasts, frozen beneath the ice.
Li Yuan said nothing.
˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙
Eastern Sea’s Immortal Domain.
The sun rose and fell, and the spiritual energy in the wind grew richer by the day.
The flora flourished, flowers bloomed more vividly, and the scent of spiritual fruits drifted across kilometers. A few more demonic beasts awakened their minds, gaining the spark of intelligence.
Within the Arcane Supreme Sect was the Arcane Wood Hall, one of the five branches of the sect.
“You’ve reached third rank? Excellent. Truly excellent!” An old man in green robes didn’t hold back his praise. “Elder Mushen said you were born with innate shadow blood. That your will aligns perfectly with the nature of that blood. That means your path here in the Arcane Wood Hall will be smooth, no obstacles at all! Now that I see it for myself, I believe it. You’re a true genius.”
The old man sat upright on a grand chair at the head of the hall, eyes gleaming as he looked down at the man standing below. He was broad-shouldered, with a long sword strapped to his back, streaks of silver in his hair, a faint trace of stubble on his chin. His expression was calm, quiet, weathered.
The man was, of course, Ping'an.
He cupped his hands respectfully. “Your praise flatters me, Hall Master. I only broke through thanks to the recent surge of spiritual energy in the spirit towns. I was lucky.”
More than 20 years had passed in a flash. After everything, the highs, the lows, the betrayals and bloodshed, Ping'an now resembled a sword sheathed and at rest. Two decades ago, he would’ve scoffed at the compliment and said something like, Honestly, I should’ve broken through years ago. This is slow for me. Really, Hall Master, I’m frustrated as hell.
The green robed old man said, “Now that you’ve entered third rank, you’re qualified to become an elder of the Arcane Wood Hall. But we only have six elder seats, and all are currently filled. No more private abodes for new elders, I’m afraid.”
In the Eastern Sea, the territory was divided roughly into four categories.
First were the mortal kingdoms, tiny states that couldn’t hold a candle to even a single province of the Great Zhou. They had little to no spiritual energy. Whatever wisps they had were scattered and unreliable, like puddles after a rainstorm, here today and gone tomorrow. Sometimes beasts with awakened minds claimed them, but they were places no proper sect disciple would bother with.
Second were the spirit towns. These towns relied on spirit-gathering arrays to draw scattered ambient energy into a concentrated area, creating pockets of cultivation-friendly zones.
Third were the spiritual abodes. These were naturally formed centers of spiritual energy, places where the air itself thrummed with vitality, and the deeper one went, the denser it became.
Last were the blessed lands.
Core disciples of a sect resided in spirit towns. Elders had personal abodes. And the rarest, most precious lands, the blessed lands, were reserved for the five hall masters.
The Arcane Supreme Sect had no separate sect leader above the five hall masters. The sect master was simply one among equals, the leader of a hall.
Spirit towns and abodes were like the difference between a packed dormitory and a private villa.
In a spirit town, one lived inside a miniature society. It was messy, noisy, and full of cliques and gossip. Nothing stayed secret for long.
But an abode? That was peace and privacy. A place to breathe. A place to hide things, if needed. In short, it was infinitely more convenient.
Ping'an said nothing. But his silence was not humility; it was resolve. He wasn’t the kind of person to politely back down from something worth fighting for.
When he first arrived in the Eastern Sea, everything had felt strange and wondrous. But now, he needed a proper place to settle his family. He needed an abode. He needed his third mother to be free of a few lecherous pests who had been harassing her lately.
He’d once imagined that people here were all lofty and otherworldly. That illusion had been shattered fast.
Graceful exteriors meant nothing. The stronger the person, the greedier the heart.
The strong preyed on the weak. That had always been the way of the world.
It had been a thousand years since any true outsiders set foot in the Immortal Domain. And even with the backing of his master’s sect, Ping'an and his family had still faced no small amount of exclusion. Cui Huayin, in particular, with her breathtaking beauty, had drawn all the wrong kinds of attention.
There were even offers of alliance through marriage. Some had suggested she become a concubine, just to help their group of newcomers gain a foothold here.
Naturally, Ping'an refused. So now he stood there in silence, not out of hesitation, but as a statement of intent. He needed the status of elder. He needed a personal abode.
The green robed hall master watched him, deep in thought. There were a few other disciples who had also reached third rank and were waiting their turn to become elders. If Ping'an had been just another one of them, the decision would’ve been simple, reject him and move on.
But Ping'an wasn’t just anyone.
First of all, his talent was monstrous. That was undeniable. And second...his connections.
The hall master had once chatted privately with Elder Mushen and knew the weight behind Ping'an’s name.
Ping'an was related to Yan Yu of the ancestral lands.
They had already gathered quite a bit of intel about the ancestral land’s current situation. It was essentially a massive ghost domain royale where three top contenders were chosen to fight in a brutal, no-holds-barred three-way elimination. There was no second place. No runner-up. The loser simply ceased to exist.
And Yan Yu was one of those three. She was a strange and singular being, the only known existence who was both human in soul and ghost in form. An unreplicable anomaly.
No one could say for sure that she wouldn’t be the one to emerge victorious.
And if she did, then Ping'an would be her closest remaining tie to the human world.
The green robed hall master deliberated for a long while before finally speaking.
“As you know, the spirit energy in our Arcane Wood Hall has been steadily increasing. It may now be possible to establish a new abode. While the six elder seats are currently filled, if a new abode is created, it can be granted to you.”
He paused again, then added, “And I promise you this. If there is to be a seventh elder, it will be you.”
“Many thanks, Hall Master,” Ping'an replied solemnly, bowing deeply.
The old man continued, “Now that you’ve entered third rank, you’ll need to request a formation banner from Master Wang.”
“Yes, understood,” Ping'an nodded.
However, he knew this wouldn't be easy.
Master Wang was a weaponsmith, one that belonged to the Wang Clan of the Immortal Domain. He also happened to precisely be one of those lechers eyeing Cui Huayin with unsavory intent.
Still, the hall master had spoken. The tide had turned in his favor.
Let them try to refuse now, Ping’an was ready.
Now, all he could do was cultivate desperately and relentlessly until he became strong enough.
Only strength would allow him to protect his family, to protect the people who had raised him.
The cry-baby, who would always shout that he would be the greatest swordsman in the world, had grown up. With his master and father gone, his shoulders now carried a burden far heavier than pride.
Time had changed his spirit and his face.
