Retreating was not a simple problem. Not the physical extraction part. The cultivators were still working on suppressing the rage of the volcano, and every indicator I could see showed that it would take a while.

Unfortunately, that didn't solve the main reason I had felt compelled to sneak into the mountain in the first place. I was afraid that they could somehow track me through the Providence of the Burning Ice. Worse, my recent insights about Providence not being a singular object, with a part of it helping me while the other trying to cause some problems made that rationale only stronger.

I had a feeling that, making the enemy of Fate, even a portion of it supposed to be a death sentence, especially since all signs showed that the part that hated me was the dominant party. But, it couldn't, not with the System devouring Providence constantly.

I didn't know what that entity was, and whether Providence was its entirety, or something Fate used to interact with the world as some kind of medium, but either way, the System interfered with it constantly.

"What the hell is the System," I muttered even as I thought about the moment I received it. I still didn't know who was the mysterious goddess that granted it, and whether she was just a very strong cultivator or some other kind of entity.

But, either way, she was strong enough to use something as miraculous as the System — the true extent I was yet to understand — as a punishment. A lazy, poorly thought-out one, at that, had given me too much advantage. The stronger I got, the more I was realizing just how strong that mysterious being was.

As much as I wanted to ponder on more about the source of the System based on my latest revelation, I had more urgent tasks to focus on. I started examining the metal pages on Land Mastery, treating it as a crash course.

While I didn't have any System Rewards to give me an instant understanding, it didn't mean I couldn't make some rapid progress. Land Mastery was a complex subject, one that required the martial artist to balance forces beyond their comprehension and direct them, all without lacking the exact controls of the formation crafting.

My knowledge of martial arts essence helped me to capture the basics. To my surprise, my formation ability had limited application on how to master the basics, and calligraphy was completely useless, but I had received unexpected help from two different directions.

Spirit plant care … and painting.

The basics of land mastery had an unexpected degree of overlap with the two concepts. The spiritual plant care, I understood well enough. After all, both arts relied on concepts that required the caretaker to gently direct and control the mystical forces rather than controlling them directly.

Painting, on the other hand, came as a surprise, especially when calligraphy had failed utterly. But, the more I read about land mastery, the more I understood the reason for it. The conflict came from the most fundamental parts of the arts.

It wasn't something as basic as calligraphy about being controlled while painting was about freedom. A beginner of both arts might have made that judgment, but that would be wrong. I might have cheated to receive my understanding through the System, but once received, it had turned internal.

And, that internalized understanding meant that I had a much better idea of what was going on.

Calligraphy was about direction, about imparting a sense of movement and intention in every stroke. Each line was a journey, starting from a single point and expanding outward, commanding the space it occupied with purpose. Yet, it wasn't rigid. The moment the ink touched the paper, it got free, moving under its free will, creating tendrils that the master had to direct rather than control.

In calligraphy, there was no room for hesitation; a stroke, once made, could not be undone. Nor it could be paused halfway. Calligraphy thrived on this immediacy, on the boldness of commitment. A brief line of action, like a battle of swords, until the results solidified and set in stone.

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Painting, on the other hand, was a search for harmony. It began with the many — the disparate elements of a scene, each with its own weight and presence. A brush stroke for a mountain, another for a tree, a careful dab for a cloud, all fragments of the larger whole that were put together slowly, patiently, requiring the painter to plan ahead.

A painting meant nothing halfway, just a collection of unrelated objects and concepts, creating a cacophony. Only when it was finished, the harmony was born, unified into a singular vision. A tapestry of unrelated concepts turning into one, a serene coexistence where every detail played its part in the broader narrative.

"No wonder cultivators love calligraphy while treating painting as a lesser art," I muttered even as I truly pondered on the differences for the first time. Calligraphy fitted the life of cultivators much better. A single, unifying brush, controlling everything to create harmony, but ultimately alone.

With painting as the basis, my understanding of land mastery had grown leaps and bounds, especially since even the most complicated topics relating to essence, I had already known.

Together, my understanding of land mastery had grown leaps and bounds, and in less than a day, it reached the equivalent of Minor Familiarity.

"Let's give it a try," I muttered even as I closed my eyes, once again using a formation to interface with the essence of the mountain. Of course, if I was outside of the mountain, my current level of knowledge would have been useless.

However, I was in the heart of the mountain, with a deep understanding of Burning Ice. The computer equivalent would have been sitting in front of a computer, with all the passwords already in hand, wildly different than hacking from outside.

The first thing I felt was the presence of the mountain, burning and freezing at the same time. However, what I felt wasn't harmony, but rage. The fire and ice danced, trying to get free of their shackles, but ultimately failing, losing ground with every passing second.

Yet, even trapped, the power it displayed was great and overwhelming.

My understanding of the higher ranks of power was difficult. But, even if I assumed every Golden Core cultivator I had encountered was merely first rank, and the difference between the first and ninth ranks were equally wide as it was between the first and ninth stage of the Qi Gathering realm, the power of the mountain would still surpass them by a wide margin.

But, that power didn't help against the Nascent Soul formation, controlled by the twelve Golden Core Cultivators. While the volcano felt like a living being, it wasn't truly sentient, not even the way an animal was. It was better to compare that to a complicated plant.

And, like any plant, it didn't truly comprehend the nature of the attack, lashing ineffectively. But, now that I was in control, it was different.

Through the land mastery, I could feel the formation around the mountain, and my knowledge at the Major Integration allowed me to get the general working principles of the formation even though it was a much higher-ranking formation.

It was merely a surface understanding. I could neither crack it, nor I could replicate its effects, but it didn't prevent me from understanding the general shape of the formation, where the Qi gathered, where it had been transformed, and which channels it attacked on the mountain.

While my abilities didn't allow me to unlock the door, it didn't prevent me from knocking on the door, metaphorically speaking. With the land mastery allowing me to control the power of the volcano, I knew exactly where to attack to shatter the formation, which would have probably ended up painfully.

However, doing so would mean that someone was controlling the land directly, which was not something I wanted. None of the members of the Treasure Pavilion interacted with the volcano, and I wasn't willing to believe that it was because they lacked the power. It was more likely to be something similar to what had been going on underneath the mortal kingdoms, where they were using others as tools to avoid the backlash of Providence.

I didn't want to test their limits to see if they wanted to switch. Luckily, while defeating them was not acceptable, slowing them down was a different thing. I triggered another volcanic explosion, which had been accompanied by cracks, gathering the focus of the twelve golden cultivators.

A mistake. After all, it was not the volcano sect, but the Sect of Burning Ice. As they were distracted, the wind blew with an intense speed, forcing the essence through the cracks before the essence flared. It would have been easy to prevent if they were more used to working together, but clearly, they were not.

The formation destabilized enough to ruin their progress, the volcano spewing another burst of magma to force them away.

However, once their overwhelming presence was gone, I noticed an unwelcome problem. Similar to the Symbol, the mountain had been absorbing Qi indirectly to power its attacks, and after centuries — maybe even longer — of abandonment, the reserves were long lost. It barely had a month to recover, and now, the reserves were already dipping lower.

Maybe it was time to push the mountain to self-destruction and retreat, leaving nothing for Treasure Pavilion to follow. I should be able to do so as long as I study Land Mastery some more.

However, just as I started studying, I noticed a presence on the outskirts of the mountain.

It looked like the grand formation wasn't the only method they were trying to intervene.

How interesting.