Void Cultivation-Chapter 185- The Foundation Establishment Realm (13)
Slowly, the hours trickled by in the Whistling Fields, each one stretching lazily across the sky like the soft sigh of a tired world. In Green City, amidst the bustling streets and the faint haze of smoke from countless chimneys, an old man moved with deliberate caution. His aura, once a force to be reckoned with, had been carefully suppressed to the Fourth level of Qi Accumulation, rendering him almost invisible to the casual observer. A dark cloak draped over his frail frame, obscuring his features, though his eyes—sharp, calculating, and restless—betrayed the unease simmering beneath his calm exterior.
If Grey were here at this very moment, he would recognize the man immediately. Despite the subtle alterations the old man had made to his appearance, the delicate thread of perception that Grey had once tied to his body still lingered, like a faint echo impossible to erase. It was a tether that could never truly be severed, and the old man, for all his cunning, was entirely unaware of it.
Two weeks had passed since their last encounter in the shadowed tunnels beneath the city—a confrontation that had left the old man shaken and wary. At the time, he had thought to leave Green City quietly, but a sudden, thunderous rush of air in the skies above—so powerful it seemed to carry the voice of the wind itself—had frozen him in place. From a distance, Grey and the Foundation Establishment realm cultivator had departed the city, leaving the old man alone with the tremors of fear that still gripped his heart.
As the days crawled by, that life-and-death anxiety gradually ebbed, dissipating like morning mist under the harsh glare of sunlight. Yet, the relief he felt was never complete. Every shadowed alley, every flicker of movement in the crowded streets, kept his senses taut and alert. Two days passed with no sign of Grey, and at last, a tentative sigh escaped his lips. A small measure of peace had returned, but he would not let his guard down so easily. Not yet.
In the days that followed, the old man took extraordinary precautions. Using a foreign art few could even comprehend, he altered his visage repeatedly, transforming into a series of faces that left him utterly unrecognizable. No friend nor foe could discern his true identity. Moreover, he moved constantly, shifting his residence throughout the city every few days, never lingering long enough to be tracked. By the twelfth day, this careful dance of paranoia had brought him to the present moment, to a modest inn nestled on a narrow, dust-choked street.
Inside the room, he closed the door behind him with meticulous care. Without a sound, he conjured a wall of spirit energy that sealed the space completely, isolating him from the outside world. Only then did he allow himself to remove the layers of disguise, revealing the features beneath, a face etched with both age and the subtle traces of unease. He exhaled slowly, a bitter smile curling across his lips.
"So it seems," he murmured to himself, his voice low and tinged with relief, "that there is truly no danger to my life. That demon... he must have been driven out of the city by that Foundation Establishment realm expert. Perhaps... it would have been even better if he had been eliminated entirely."
He allowed himself to sink into the chair by the small wooden table, a long-held tension easing from his shoulders. His thoughts lingered on the weeks past, on the countless times he had been forced to change his identity, to hide in the shadows, and to seek protection from the city’s few surviving masters of higher cultivation. The cost had been steep: precious resources, valuable connections, and more than a little pride. Now, for the first time in what felt like ages, he could breathe freely.
With a glint of mischief and triumph in his eyes, he reached for a gourd of wine he had brought with him. Tilting it to his lips, he drank deeply, the warm liquid sliding down his throat and washing away the lingering tension of his ordeal. For a moment, his expression was unguarded, bright with joy and the simple satisfaction of survival.
"Thank the heavens," he whispered to the empty room, "that he did not return. If he had... I would have had no choice but to surrender far more than I wished to those old fellows, hiring their protection and sacrificing countless resources in the process." He laughed softly, a sound that carried both relief and the faintest touch of lingering fear, savoring this small victory in the quiet solitude of his fortified room.
Who could have imagined how the old man would have reacted if he had seen Grey now, soaring through the skies toward Green City, an aura of formidable power radiating from him, a clear mark of the Foundation Establishment Realm. The sheer force of his cultivation level was enough to make even seasoned observers uneasy, though Grey’s calm, indifferent demeanor gave nothing away. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖
At this moment, he glided effortlessly through the air, his movements smooth and unhurried, as if the sky itself bowed beneath his presence. The journey to the Whistling Fields had changed him more than he cared to admit. Each encounter, each challenge along the way, had left its mark, sharpening his senses, deepening his understanding of the world, and opening his eyes to possibilities he had never considered.
Moreover, the string of events that had unfolded recently had granted him an unexpected boon, an opportunity that seemed almost tailor-made, a chance he had never dared hope for. It was as if fate had nudged him along a path he was only beginning to comprehend.
"In a few hours, I’ll reach Green City," Grey murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the wind rushing past him. "The distance I’ve covered in this flight... it’s incomparable to what I could achieve back in the Qi Accumulation Realm." His words carried a quiet satisfaction, tinged with the faintest hint of awe at his own advancement.
The wind whipped against his face, tugging at the slightly long strands of grey hair that framed his sharp features, sending them fluttering like silver banners behind him. His eyes remained as serene as a still lake, reflecting nothing but a calm detachment, but within that placid exterior, a narrow, sharp glint betrayed the flicker of intent and determination burning quietly in his mind.
Hours passed, the land beneath him gradually stretching closer, until at last the sprawling sprawl of Green City rose into view. Its rooftops glimmered faintly under the setting sun, and the streets below bustled with the rhythm of life, unaware of the force now descending upon them.
When Grey finally arrived, his footsteps were deliberate, measured, and heavy with presence. Each movement exuded an unspoken authority, a silent warning to anyone who might dare challenge him. Though there was no one who could challenge him right now. Because he was flying high up in the skies. So high that the clouds were blocking the vision of him from below.
Only Foundation Establishment Realm cultivators could stand up to him now.
