I raised an eyebrow, questioning, "You know something?"

The hunter nodded. "Yes, I know our goddess is a cultivator, like you. I hope you don't hold it against the village—they know nothing about it."

"If I held a grudge over every little thing, I'd never get the chance to enjoy life," I joked. "Besides, I hope you won't hold it against me for taking the title of 'god' so easily. It seemed like too much of a hassle to explain what a cultivator is."

The hunter chuckled. "Yes, I understand how frustrating that can be. I was like them once."

"Rea;;y? How do you know about this? You don't seem like an outsider here," I said.

"True," the hunter nodded. "But Wei Xian taught me many things."

There was silence for about a couple of minutes as we moved through the forest, with his eyes wandering around; he was cautious about beasts despite having me around.

"She even saved my life once when I wandered into a bear's territory for food during a harsh winter. I was badly injured, and she nursed me back to health. I owe her everything, though I fear I'll never be able to repay the debt in this lifetime," he said.

The hunter sighed, regret evident in his expression, but his gaze was firm, filled with unwavering loyalty. It was apparent no one could ever convince him to betray her.

"So, I take it Wei Xian is the 'goddess' everyone keeps mentioning?" I asked. He nodded, and I continued, "Are there any Sects around here?"

The hunter narrowed his eyes, staring north, and nodded again. "I don't know exactly where, but Wei Xian once told me there's something called the Silent Harvest Sect nearby."

We walked past trees and vaulted over a fallen trunk. The ground was getting steeper, taking on the ruggedness of mountain terrain.

"Oh?" I glanced at the hunter, noticing his discomfort. "Anything special about this Sect?"

"I'm not sure," the hunter admitted. "But Wei Xian always gets angry when she hears that they desecrate graves."

Stealing corpses? That was rare. It had to be some kind of necromancy technique; after all, mortal corpses had no Qi to use for alchemy. Sure, some obscure recipes might require bodies, but it seemed unlikely. Live humans made better ingredients for that kind of thing.

No wonder they lived on the outskirts.

The fact they collected corpses told me a lot. There was a good chance this was a minor Sect, and their leader was probably a Foundation Establishment Cultivator—if that.

Corpses didn't make good cultivators. They couldn't gather Qi independently and would need to be fed spirit stones to recover their energy. That was an expensive and wasteful process. Every battle would cost them Qi, leaving the Sect constantly in deficit. Plus, this region wasn't overflowing with resources.

If necromancy were practical, one of the four major Sects would have already adopted it. But in this world, swords and fists held more sway than necromancy. Power dictated everything, and if necromancy were truly powerful, people would be using it—justifying it with whatever excuses they could muster.

We trekked through the dead forest for hours until we reached a mountain that jutted from the earth like a sword. Most mountains had trails or paths for climbing, but this one looked like it had been carved smooth—there was no easy way up.

No wonder the elder said few villagers visited the temple if they had to pass through all this.

"Just follow my lead," the hunter said, spitting on his hands and rubbing them together, preparing to climb.

But before he could touch the rock, I grabbed the back of his rough shirt, unsheathed my sword, and without a word, I leaped into the air, pulling him along as I flew upward.

"Oh, damn!" The hunter panicked, instinctively reaching to grab something. He first almost grabbed my sword but quickly realized that would be a terrible idea. Instead, he tried to grab my arm, the one holding him.

Before his spit-covered hand could reach me, I conjured a thin barrier using Dancing Jade Armor, just enough to shield the spot where he grabbed.

We continued flying upward, and after a bit of panicked whining, the hunter finally regained control of his emotions. Either that or he was too shocked to scream anymore.

When we reached the mountain's top, I set him down on a surprisingly flat plateau. He had mentioned a shrine, and I had expected something modest, maybe the size of a bus stop shelter. Instead, I saw a large, ancient temple, overgrown with vines and surrounded by dry, untended grass.

The temple looked like a relic of a bygone era, something the so-called goddess had claimed for herself. Of course, there was a more dangerous possibility—that an immortal from an ancient time was still living here.

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I let go of the hunter, and he sighed in relief when his feet touched solid ground.

In truth, I could have used Dancing Jade Armor to create a platform for him to ride on, but I didn't trust anyone here enough to reveal more of my abilities. Better to keep them hidden in case things went sideways.

Sure, the odds of some random cultivator out here in the middle of nowhere having higher cultivation than me—or better techniques—were slim. But I hadn't forgotten the swamp incident. Those people somehow had a Core Formation-level beast. It was always safer to be cautious.

"Have there been any disasters around here recently?" I asked, glancing at the temple. "I mean, in the last hundred years or so."

The hunter finally calmed after his airborne ordeal and looked confused. "Disasters? Like monstrous beast attacks?"

"It could be anything," I clarified. "A catastrophic rainstorm, the ground splitting open and unleashing a heavenly beast—something bigger than a beast attack or a horde."

He shook his head. "Nothing like that, not as far as I know."

"What about in your grandfather's time? Any stories of such things?"

I knew I was pushing, but I needed to be sure no secret immortal was hiding around here.

The hunter smiled, shaking his head again. "The villagers are more concerned with the harvest and surviving winter than silly legends."

He didn't seem bothered by my line of questioning. Either he genuinely enjoyed the conversation, or he was leading me on.

As we approached the temple's entrance, I noticed the ground had eroded, with patches of mold and grass growing between the cracked stone slabs. The place must have been beautiful once, thriving in its era.

"How long has this goddess been around, Lie Xiong?" I asked as we walked.

He shrugged. "About thirty or forty years."

Inside, the air was thick and heavy with the weight of time. Dust coated every surface, swirling lazily in the faint beams of light that broke through the grime-encrusted windows. Cobwebs sprawled across the corners, clinging to forgotten relics, weaving a delicate web of abandonment. In the center stood a wooden statue, once a figure of reverence, now decayed and ravaged by time.

The statue depicted an old man with a long beard, though the finer details of his face had been worn away. Mold covered the surface, spreading dark patches of decay across the wood, which had warped and cracked under the pressure of the years.

What might have been a proud symbol of wisdom and respect was now little more than a haunting reminder of a forgotten era; its grandeur faded into rot and ruin.

"No offense, but that doesn't look like a goddess," I remarked, pointing at the statue.

Lie Xiong chuckled. "None taken. That's not the goddess."

"So, you're just squatting in some random temple?"

"The villagers don't come up here. They've never even seen the inside. They think it's made of gleaming yellow metal and strange, shiny stones."

As he spoke, I sensed a shift in the air near the temple's entrance. Someone was here, and their Qi felt strange—yet unmistakably that of a cultivator.

I didn't turn around, pretending I hadn't noticed her. This would be the perfect moment to strike if she had malicious intentions.

But instead of attacking, the newcomer did something strange. She approached cautiously and stopped ten steps away. Clearly, she didn't want to be noticed, but she wasn't doing a great job of it.

"I never expected anyone but Lie Xiong to come up here," said the woman.

Did she really do all this for dramatic effect? When she was sneaking up without saying a word, I thought she would attack! A few more steps, and I might have responded with lethal force. Was being called a goddess making her reckless?

Maybe she hadn't had much experience with other cultivators. Still, that was no excuse—her survival instincts were lacking.

I turned around, and what greeted me was a cute woman with silky dark hair and warm brown eyes. She wasn't striking enough to be called a goddess, but her friendly, girl-next-door smile was the kind that would automatically make people like her—especially men, who'd no doubt develop crushes on her.

But her appearance wasn't what caught my attention. It was her Qi.

I had sensed it before, but now that I looked closely, her Qi network was a mess.

Typically, cultivators who sense Qi gradually draw the energy into their bodies after training them to handle it. This process, known as Body Tempering, is essential since Qi is volatile. Spiritual roots help cleanse it, but it was still destructive without proper conditioning. Once the body adjusts to Qi, a cultivator can use it for various wondrous effects: reinforcing the body, using techniques, and extending their lifespan.

This was the standard method practiced by every major and minor Sect. But there are other ways to cultivate.

Take the woman in front of me—the so-called goddess. She didn't look like she had trained her body a day in her life. Outwardly, she appeared young, but the subtle turbulation in her jaw as she moved made it clear she was using some kind of illusion.

Instead of following the proper steps, she skipped Body Tempering and tried to gather Qi directly, which meant she must have an unusually high number of spiritual branches to even attempt it. If she'd been trained in a major Sect, she might have reached Core Formation by now.

However, after likely burning herself with Qi by forcing it into her untrained body, she resorted to filtering the energy and keeping it outside her body, like a second skin. Her external attacks were probably more potent than most cultivators at her level, but her physical body hadn't improved, nor had her lifespan increased.

In short, she was a glass cannon cultivator.

There was a good chance she devised this cultivation method on her own, which showed she had crazy talent. Perhaps this was how cultivation itself had started, with exceptionally gifted people just experimenting.

Still, she'd never reach Foundation Establishment. She would need to gather all her Qi inside her and form a pillar to advance. She simply couldn't do that with her current method.

To place her in standard terms, she was a nine-star Qi Gathering Cultivator. Her attacks could probably harm a Foundation Establishment Cultivator. Still, I could easily counter them with a barrier and take her down in a fight.

"Eh, a lady can get embarrassed if you keep staring at her like that," said the self-proclaimed goddess.

"Sorry, I got distracted. I've never seen beauty like yours," I replied.

It might have sounded insincere, but her cultivation method really was fascinating. In a way, she was an exotic beauty in my eyes.