Pillborn Immortal

The spirit spring's energy had finally settled, its cool essence fully absorbed into Zhuan Ming's body. He opened his eyes, the faint blue glow of the cave reflecting in his sharp gaze as he exhaled slowly, feeling the subtle but undeniable growth in his nirvana roots. The spiritual energy had done its work, fortifying his body and preparing him for the next step in his cultivation.

"Let's return," Zhuan Ming murmured, his voice calm. He stepped out of the spring, the water dripping from his muscular frame as he dressed himself. With a final glance at the serene cave, he sealed the entrance, ensuring its hidden location remained undiscovered.

The journey back to the sect was uneventful, but Zhuan Ming's mind was anything but quiet. The hidden ruins of the Azura Mist Sect loomed in his thoughts. He knew time was running out, and the sect's growing interest in the Beast Mountain Range would only grow stronger.

Back in the grand hall of the Azura Sky Sect, the Sect Leader stood before a massive map of the Beast Mountain Range, his golden eyes scanning the marked territories. The map was a masterpiece of detail, with every known landmark, danger zone, and resource-rich area meticulously labeled. The elder who had reported earlier stood at his side, his hands clasped respectfully behind his back as he awaited further orders.

The Sect Leader's presence was as commanding as ever, his aura radiating an almost palpable pressure. His robes shimmered with the colors of the dawn, and his expression was one of calculated focus. After a long moment of silence, he spoke, his voice deep and resonant.

"It is time we utilize the inner and outer disciples," he declared, his gaze never leaving the map. "The Beast Mountain Range holds secrets that cannot remain hidden any longer. Mobilize them. Assign teams to explore the edge of the marked zones and report their findings."

The elder bowed deeply, his voice steady. "As you command, Sect Leader. I will see to it immediately."

"Soon," the Sect Leader murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.

The elder hesitated for a moment, sensing the weight of the Sect Leader's words. "Sect Leader," he began cautiously, "if I may ask, what of the dangers within the Beast Mountain Range? The disciples, especially the outer ones, may not be prepared for what lies within."

The Sect Leader's smile didn't waver, but his tone grew sharper, cutting through the air like a blade. "The weak will perish, and the strong will prevail. That is the way of cultivation. Let this be a test of their worth. Those who survive will prove their value to the sect." His golden eyes flickered with a cold, calculating light as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, almost ominous timbre. "After all, if we don't secure this inheritance, we will all end up as nothing but slaves of the Fire Mountain Sect."

The elder's breath hitched, his hands tightening behind his back. He knew the weight of those words. The Fire Mountain Sect had been a looming shadow over the Azura Sky Sect for years, their influence growing like a wildfire. The cultivation world was a brutal place, and power was the only currency that mattered. Spirit stones and artifacts were the lifeblood of sects, used not only for cultivation but also as bargaining chips in the intricate web of alliances and rivalries.

Artifacts came in three forms: man-made, origin, and divine origin. Man-made artifacts were crafted by skilled artisans, requiring vast resources, intricate blueprints, and a high chance of failure unless the action is performed by a master. Origin artifacts, on the other hand, were born from heaven fruits—rare, natural treasures that grew within the bodies of certain spiritual beings. These artifacts were far purer and of higher quality than their man-made counterparts, unless crafted by a grandmaster. Divine origin artifacts were even rarer, said to be gifts from the heavens themselves, imbued with unparalleled power and each one being unique and one of one. All artifacts are ranked from one to ten depending on their power, with rank ten artifacts existing only in legends.

The cost of creating artifacts was exorbitant, and failures were common. For larger sects like the Fire Mountain Sect, it was often cheaper to demand artifacts in exchange for protection or resources. But the Fire Mountain Sect had recently escalated their demands. They had visited the Azura Sky Sect under the guise of offering protection, warning them to join in case of an attack. But their true message was clear: join them or face annihilation.

In the cultivation world, the righteous path forbade outright aggression, forcing sects to maintain a facade of honor and integrity. But behind closed doors, they resorted to tricks, ploys, and subtle manipulations to achieve their goals. The Fire Mountain Sect was a also using such tactics, using veiled threats and political maneuvering to bend others to their will. They kept their hands clean in public, but their schemes were as hard to face as a full-on attack.

The elder bowed again, deeper this time, and retreated from the hall, his mind racing with the implications of the Sect Leader's orders. The Beast Mountain Range was no ordinary training ground—it was a place where even seasoned cultivators tread carefully. Sending inexperienced disciples into its depths was akin to sending lambs to the slaughter.

Meanwhile, Zhuan Ming had returned to the sect, blending seamlessly into the bustling crowd of disciples. The outer sect was alive with activity, as cultivators of varying skill levels moved about, some training, others discussing their latest missions. Zhuan Ming's sharp eyes scanned the area while eavesdropping on the conversations around him.

"Have you heard the news?" one disciple asked, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "The sect is organizing a large-scale mission to explore the Beast Mountain Range! They're sending teams of inner and outer disciples to map the area and gather resources. This could be our chance to prove ourselves!"

Zhuan Ming's expression remained neutral, but his mind was already calculating. The sect's sudden interest in the Beast Mountain Range was no coincidence. They must have discovered something—or at least suspected it. The hidden ruins of the Azura Mist Sect were at risk of being uncovered, and he couldn't afford to let that happen.

"According to the future events, it was a disciple who discovered the ruins," he thought, his brow furrowing slightly. "What was his name…?" Despite his efforts, the memory eluded him.

"When do we leave?" another disciple asked.

"In three days," the first replied, his excitement undimmed. "They're assigning teams tomorrow. We should sign up early to hopefully get a good group!"

Zhuan Ming nodded, his thoughts already racing ahead. This mission could be both an opportunity and a threat. If he played his cards right, he could use the chaos to his advantage, slipping away from the group to pursue his own goals. But he would need to be careful—the sect's eyes were everywhere, and betrayal was often rewarded with merit.

As the other disciples chattered on about the mission, Zhuan Ming's gaze drifted toward the distant peaks of the Beast Mountain Range, barely visible through the haze.

"Three days," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. "Three days to prepare."