Novels2Search
Eternal Cultivation: Fear and Faith [Xianxia/Eldritch]
Chapter 14: [Creature of the Wildlands]

Chapter 14: [Creature of the Wildlands]

Feng Zhiming entered the grand hall, bowing respectfully to the round, elderly man standing before him. The second elder of the Heavenly Divine Demon Sect exuded an aura of wisdom and authority, a figure both revered and feared within the sect.

“I greet the second elder,” Feng Zhiming said, his voice steady as he cupped his hands in a formal gesture.

The elder, whose expression was usually inscrutable, allowed a small nod of approval. “Rise, disciple Feng. You have done well this time,” he said, holding the scroll Feng Zhiming had retrieved. The weight of its contents was evident in the elder’s demeanor.

At this moment, only Feng Zhiming and the elder knew the secret contained within the scroll.

“Do you know what the scroll says?” the elder inquired, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gauged Feng Zhiming’s reaction.

Feng Zhiming met his gaze without flinching. “I had to read it to verify if it was the artifact,” he responded, unapologetic. He knew that in this world, strength came from knowledge, and he wasn’t about to show any weakness.

The elder seemed conflicted for a moment, then sighed, as if deciding it wasn’t worth pressing further. “Just make sure not to tell anyone else,” he warned, his tone carrying the weight of authority.

Feng Zhiming bowed again. “I understand, elder.”

The elder’s expression softened as he put the scroll into his storage ring. “I am now going to transfer an information-transmitting technique to you. Don’t resist.”

Feng Zhiming braced himself as the elder placed a hand on his forehead. A sharp sensation flickered through his mind, the instinct to resist almost overwhelming. But he steeled himself, allowing the technique to embed itself in his consciousness.

“This technique describes how to create a messenger to carry a message from one place to another. The speed can vary depending on the user’s skill, but if the messenger is caught, it will self-destruct along with the message,” the elder explained.

Feng Zhiming nodded, absorbing the knowledge. “Thank you, elder, for this technique.”

The elder waved off his thanks. “No need for thanks. Consider it my parting gift. Now, you must infiltrate the orthodoxies. If you find any sensitive information, communicate it using the technique.”

Feng Zhiming turned to leave but hesitated at the threshold of the hall. Something was nagging at him, a question that had taken root in his mind. He turned back to the elder, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“May I ask a question, elder? I rarely have the chance to speak to someone as experienced as you,” Feng Zhiming said.

The second elder raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden request, but nodded. “Go ahead.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Feng Zhiming took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “The man who stole the artifact chose between greed and longevity. That was his yes or no between life and death. What would your choice be between?”

The elder’s eyes softened with a hint of something akin to sorrow. “If you had asked me a hundred years ago, I would have said there is no choice to make—only longevity.”

He stood up slowly, his gaze distant as if recalling a painful memory. “But now, I feel that choice would be family. I made the wrong choice once before, and it won’t happen again.”

A complicated expression crossed the elder’s face, a glimpse into a past filled with regret and hard-earned wisdom.

“Thank you,” Feng Zhiming said quietly, sensing the depth of the elder’s response. As he left the hall, he felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

Outside, the world seemed different, as if that brief exchange had shifted something within him. His thoughts, however, quickly turned to more pressing matters.

“Let’s start with this bounty on the Creature of the Wildlands,” he mused, his mind already strategizing as he noticed a new notification.

[Assembly-wide announcement to all Ethereal Core Participants]

[The Creature of the Wildlands is a worthy opponent. The first participant within the Ethereal Core realm to hunt it will receive a reward from the administrator.]

Feng Zhiming chuckled to himself. “Seems the show is too boring for the administrator.”

With that, he departed the sect, ready to pursue this new challenge.

Meanwhile, deep within the Wildlands, a group of three stood at the entrance of a dark, foreboding cave. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and an eerie silence had settled over the area. Two women and one man, all wearing loose-fitting blue cultivator robes, exchanged uneasy glances.

“Brother Fang, I really don’t think we should be going in this cave,” one of the women, Hua, said, her voice trembling slightly.

Fang, the leader of the group, smiled reassuringly. “Come on, little Hua, have some faith. I’m just a step away from Spiritual Awakening. How could a Condensed Ethereal Core stage demon be my match? Tell her, Hani, she’s worrying for no reason.”

“That’s right. With Brother Fang here, we disciples of the Flowing River Sect have nothing to fear,” Hani chimed in, though there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

Fang was confident—perhaps overly so. In his mind, there was no way three Ethereal Core stage cultivators could lose to a single demon of the same stage.

“Killing this demon will bring great merit to the sect. We’ll be rewarded by one of the three great orthodoxies. I’ll lead us, so don’t be scared,” Fang said, though he conveniently left out the part about how the glory would benefit him the most.

With Fang leading the way, they entered the cave. But as soon as they stepped inside, the air changed, thickening with a foul stench that assaulted their senses.

“What a disgusting stench,” they all said in unison, wrinkling their noses.

The floor of the cave was slick with mud, making every step difficult. The ceiling hung low, forcing them to walk rather than fly.

“Deploy your spiritual senses and don’t rely on your vision. It’s too dark in here,” Fang ordered.

They did as instructed, but the moment their spiritual senses extended, all three froze.

“B-Brother Fang, m-my spiritual sense is completely dark,” Hua stammered, fear creeping into her voice.

“This isn’t good,” Hani added, her voice tight with unease.

“Don’t panic,” Fang said, trying to maintain control. “Clearly, there’s some sort of formation array here. Let’s just head back to the surface and find some formation-dispelling talismans.”

He turned to lead them back, but as he did, his face twisted into an expression of horror. Hua fell to her knees, and Hani’s eyes widened in terror.

The entrance to the cave, which had been only a few steps behind them, had vanished, leaving behind only a gaping void of darkness.