Chapter 58: This is not its World (1/2)

Chapter 58: This is not its World

Two months passed. Meng Hao sat cross-legged in the Immortal’s Cave in the deep mountains. Suddenly, a thunderous noise rang out, sending the nearby animals scattering. The large stone slab he had sliced out to seal the cave suddenly shattered into pieces.

Stone fragments showered out in all directions as Meng Hao emerged from the Immortal’s Cave. His hair hung down like a cloak around his scholar’s robe. His eyes glittered like lightning, and a shocking aura emanated from him, as well as a pleasant, fragrant aroma.

A look of joy filled his face. After having been in secluded meditation for such a long time, he let out a laugh which echoed out and sent the wild beasts running.

“The eighth level of Qi Condensation!” he said, his fists clenched. His eyes shone, which would have been even more obvious were it nighttime.

The two months of meditation had begun with a sense of nervousness and imminent danger. Those feeling disappeared slowly as he practiced Cultivation. He used over ten thousand Spirit Stones to duplicate medicinal pills, which he used in his meditation.

He did not want to be in a position of danger ever again. He needed to become strong, so that he could surpass the people who threatened him.

“I need to become powerful. There is no other reason. I must become powerful!”

He stood outside of the Immortal’s cave, breathing the fresh mountain air, his eyes filled with resolve.

He was a simple scholar, a student of Confucianism. But the past three years had caused him to become a bit more inwardly focused. After everything that he had experienced, his personality was very different than it had been. His stubborness was now much more obvious.

He had been stubborn in his refusal to give up even after failing in the Imperial examinations. He had been stubborn in his struggles in the Reliance Sect. He had been stubborn when he stood up to Wang Tengfei. And now he was stubborn in his hopes for the future.

Becoming powerful is much the same as becoming rich. It is a dream that does not require a reason. If a reason is required, perhaps it is fear of being poor or weak. That is what Meng Hao believed.

“Life is an ever-burning flame, filled with exuberance. In life, one must be strong, and never lower one’s head.” He looked up into the sky, thinking about the Reliance Sect. He thought about the arrogant conceit of the experts from the State of Zhao. He thought of the coldness of the people who had tried to kill him. He thought of the gaze of that middle-aged Dao Protector who had stood next to Wang Tengfei that night.

“My mother and father disappeared when I was young. If I hadn’t struggled to improve myself, I wouldn’t have lived down to this day. Instead, I would have resigned myself to the hopelessness. If I hadn’t struggled to grow stronger during my time in the Reliance Sect, I would never have become a member of the Inner Sect. Stubborn insistence on self-improvement. That is my path into the future.” He let out a very long breath. Then, he lifted his hand and flicked his sleeve. A black beam appeared which solidified into a black spike. Emanating a black glow, it shot toward a nearby boulder.

A boom rang out, and the boulder, which was over eighteen meters tall, collapsed into chunks, interspersed with pieces of black ice. They fell to the ground, emanating an intense coldness.

With a look of satisfaction, Meng Hao waved his hand, and the black spike flew back to him. He moved his hand again, and this time a multicolored beam swirled around him. The sixteen-feathered fan appeared, flying back and forth as it followed the movements of his fingers. Suddenly, there was bang as the feathers separated.

Sixteen beams of light circled around. The sixteen feathers had become like flying swords, swift and fierce. They followed the movements of his hand, moving to spin rapidly around him, making an impenetrable shield, empowered by his spiritual power.

Then the feathers re-formed into a fan and settled onto his hand.

“It’s too bad I didn’t have enough Spirit Stones. The copper mirror really eats them up. Duplicating one Earthly Spirit Pill required one hundred Spirit Stones. Not a bad price. The Heavenly Spirit Pill, useful upon reaching the eighth level of Qi Condensation, required five hundred. Just a bit too expensive…” Thinking about Spirit Stones, he frowned. Of the ten thousand Spirit Stones he’d had, not many were left. During the two months he had spent breaking through from the seventh level to the eighth level, he had consumed over eighty Earthly Spirit Pills. That was nearly two per day before he had broken through to the eighth level of Qi Condensation.

“In the future,” he muttered to himself. “I will require even more spiritual power to practice Cultivation.” A glance inside his bag of holding confirmed that he only had five Heavenly Spirit Pills. He had already consumed one, and had calculated that to reach the ninth level of Qi Condensation he would need roughly one hundred and fifty.

“I know I need a lot of spiritual power. But could it be that my excessive consumption of Demonic Cores has caused my body to begin to reject medicinal pills?” He hesitated, unsure of how to confirm his theory. If he was right, then he might need even more Heavenly Spirit Pills, or perhaps other types of medicinal pills.

“One hundred and fifty Heavenly Spirit Pills… that’s equal to seventy thousand Spirit Stones… Without them, it will take me a long time to accumulate that much spiritual energy. Plus, my latent talent is only ordinary, so that means it will take even longer….” He sighed as he thought about the emptiness of his bag of holding.

He had three more of the extraordinarily large Spirit Stones, but he didn’t dare to use them. The more advanced he became in his cultivation, the more he realized how rash he had been to duplicate the wooden sword all those years ago. The large Spirit Stones were clearly extraordinarily special, otherwise he would not have been able to duplicate the Vorpal Jade Blood Crystals.

“I won’t use these large Spirit Stones unless it’s absolutely necessary,” he said resolutely. “Maybe they will have some other use in the future.” The fan beneath his feet began to shine brightly, and his body transformed into a ray of light which shot off into the distance.

He was quiet as he travelled, circulating his spiritual energy. Eventually, the treasured fan began to fade and take on a more ordinary appearance. As he moved farther and farther away, he began to grow more at ease.

“After all these months, the Violet Fate Sect disciples will surely have moved on.” He was careful as he traveled, eventually emerging from the mountains. He looked off into the distance. If he was right, this area was close to the capital city of the State of Zhao.

Once upon a time, he had yearned day and night to go to the capital city. This desire was second only to his dream of visiting the Great Tang in the Eastern Lands. He sighed emotionally as he thought of his three years of examinations, and three years of failures. He had never even made it to the final examinations in the capital city. Another three years had passed, and now he finally arrived, not as a scholar, but as a Cultivator.

As he approached the capital city, he stopped gliding and began to walk along the public road. He tied up his hair and this, coupled with his scholar’s robe, made him look just like the old scholar that he used to be. Although, while he had then been somewhat short, after years of Cultivation, he was now tall and slender. His skin was still a bit dark, yet vigorous, emanating a strong air.

He walked along absentmindedly. It was March now, which was often a time for snowfall in the State of Zhao. As Meng Hao walked, the darkness of evening began to settle around him, and snowflakes began to slowly fall.

Soon, the ground was covered with whiteness, like a feathered quilt.