Void Cultivation-Chapter 159- Demon Grey
At that very moment, the old man felt his heart jolt violently within his chest, as though an invisible hand had squeezed it. The world around him seemed to shudder — the faint tremor of something vast and unfathomable stirring to life. He could not explain the sudden shift in the atmosphere, yet a deep instinct told him it was connected to the mysterious cultivator he had encountered within the shadowed tunnels beneath the earth.
Although uncertainty clouded his thoughts, a strange intuition whispered to him that the middle-aged man he had glimpsed in those depths was the cause of this strange upheaval. It was as if the heavens themselves had responded to that man’s presence.
That was also the reason why no body saw Grey as he sank into a strange trance for a few moments. The mist covering the mountain tops were so thick that low level cultivators eyesight couldn’t breach them. The jagged mountain tops pierced high and reached the sky that they looked like fingers of a gigantic beast that were clawing at the sky. And with the misty tops, they were quite an enchanting and mysterious place. In fact, it was for that same reason that there were very few beasts residing there. And for some reason, bizarre existences also avoided wandering into the mountain ranges
Even through the layers of confusion and disbelief, the old man felt it, faint ripples of spiritual energy emanating from the distant Misty Mountains. Those ancient peaks loomed in the far horizon, tall and solemn like silent guardians of the world. Their summits were forever hidden beneath veils of pale white fog, so thick that no mortal eye could pierce them. The mist was a mystery unto itself, timeless, ethereal, and cold.
It was within that shrouded silence that Grey sat, unseen by any living soul, his form hidden amidst the swirling vapors. Entranced and unmoving, he had slipped into a strange state of mind. The mist that cloaked the mountain peaks was so dense that even cultivators with sharpened senses could not see through it. To the weak, it appeared as an impenetrable wall; to the strong, it whispered secrets they were not yet meant to hear.
Minutes passed, or perhaps an hour, before the old man, seated cross-legged in a dimly lit inn, opened his eyes with a start. A cold premonition swept through him, making the hairs on his neck stand upright. It was the unmistakable feeling of impending calamity, a sensation every veteran cultivator knew too well. He had lived long enough to trust such instincts. Somewhere in his bones, he knew his life was about to enter a storm of crisis.
Shock flickered across his wrinkled face, but it was quickly replaced by the calm of long habit. This was not the first time he had felt death drawing near. Without hesitation, he gathered his belongings and rose to his feet. There was no time to waste.
In one smooth motion, he left the inn, slipping through the bustling streets of Green City like a shadow. His fingers moved deftly, pulling out a small jade bottle from his robes. Moments later, his appearance began to shift, wrinkles smoothed, hair darkened, and his posture straightened. Within breaths, the frail old man had become a middle-aged traveler with an unassuming face.
To the casual observer, his movements appeared perfectly natural. Yet to an observant eye, there was something slightly off about the way he moved, a stiffness that betrayed the nervous energy coiled beneath his calm exterior. But in Green City, such unease was common. The city thrived on secrets, its alleys home to thieves, assassins, and cultivators seeking refuge from their own pasts. Suspicion was an ordinary thing; fear was merely a companion of survival.
Still, none of these petty dangers compared to the shadow now hanging over the old man’s heart. The feeling of danger was so tangible it made his skin crawl. If he were to describe it, he would have said... "If feels like a Ninth Level cultivator is hunting me!"
He moved with deliberate calm toward the city gates, his gaze subtly sweeping across every passerby, searching for the slightest trace of pursuit. Every whisper of wind, every shifting shadow made his nerves tighten further.
Meanwhile, far above the streets and noise, Grey descended upon Green City like a storm carried by the wind. His expression was detached, his eyes reflecting a strange clarity tinged with coldness. The air around him rippled faintly, as though the wind itself acknowledged his presence.
His entire being was infused with the rhythm of the wind, it was elusive, fluid, and boundless. The lingering comprehension he had gained in that trance-like state now pulsed within him, subtly transforming his every movement. Without realizing it, his speed far exceeded what he would run normally, each step guided by an invisible current that carried him forward, but he did not notice.
’If I were to calculate the sun in the sky, I would say that not even a thirty minutes had passed since I entered that strange trance like state. But while the outside world may not have moved, the time I spent in that trance-like state is really more than four days! Also, the memory could not have ended there. There must be more. But it only seems like when I’ve understood the wind better will I be able to enter that state again. And although the middle-aged man made me his scion, I do not feel any change within me. So it must mean that the inheritance is incomplete. Only when I’ve comprehended the wind, at least to a certain extent can I be called a Scion of the Wind Monarch!’ Grey laid bare his thoughts inwardly. But he did not stop running.
The thoughts drifted through his mind like soft whispers carried on a breeze, yet his feet never stopped moving.
A faint tug in his consciousness soon drew his attention. It was a mark, a single thread of perception he had left behind. He could feel it shining faintly, guiding him toward the city’s outskirts. The presence it led to was unmistakable.
The old man.
After their brief confrontation in the underground tunnels, Grey had left a trace of his spiritual sense upon him, ensuring he could find the man again. The old man’s strange techniques had been peculiar, even dangerous, especially that net that was suddenly conjured around him. If he was not strong enough, Grey doubted whether the situation would not be troublesome. They were dangerous enough to pique Grey’s curiosity, and perhaps his caution.
But curiosity was not the only reason he pursued him now.
**☺️😉**
