On a bitterly cold winter morning, deep within the vast expanse of the York Empire's territory, nestled within the heart of Mount Targon, lay a series of caverns that cradled the mountain's spirit vein. This vein radiated a comforting warmth, a stark contrast to the biting winds and the thick blanket of snow outside.
These caverns, along with the entire mountain, served as the personal sanctuary for the Golden Immortal—an adept in the arcane arts of fire and treasure refinement. It was also the haven for his extended family and numerous wives.
Despite the York Empire's territorial claims, the Golden Immortal's roots in this region stretched back thousands of years, long before the empire's establishment. Mount Targon, with its unique properties, remained the ultimate cultivation ground for practitioners of fire-related disciplines.
Beneath the mountain's surface, in its deepest recesses, an intricately carved palace, fashioned from blazing red stones, stood in silent grandeur. It was enveloped by roiling pools of lava, their searing heat potent enough to overwhelm even Sea Formation cultivators who ventured too close.
Deep within this palace resided an ancient figure, akin to the pre-shattering ancestors—a figure known as the Golden Immortal. Ages ago, he had etched his legacy by repelling both the forces of the Phantom Legion and invaders from an alternate plane, a sect of demonic cultivators known as the Abyssal Covenant. These invaders had entered through a concealed realm bridging the two worlds—a realm that had remained hidden since the shattering.
In those times, the Golden Immortal had ventured beyond his mountain lair for the first time in a thousand years, embarking on a relentless campaign of destruction that left only a select few witnesses to recount the awe-inspiring spectacle. Then, he had retreated back into his lair, where he had stood as an eternal guardian ever since.
Due to his protracted seclusion within Mount Targon, the neighboring powers had come to deem the mountain as forbidden territory, shunning its vicinity as anyone who dared to trespass vanished without a trace.
It wasn't that they considered the Golden Immortal someone who would harm people, but that they suspected all who ventured inside did not want to ever leave. The Spear Emperor had said as much a long time ago before he had even become the current empire's leader.
"His excellency the Golden Immortal is a blessing for our York Empire. He's a noble, kind-hearted and honorable man. His strong sense of duty is an eternal boon for our beloved country."
Within this secluded realm, none ventured beyond the mountain's boundaries, for there was no need. Here, all residents enjoyed abundant resources, sustenance, and guidance, facilitating their smooth progression into the Sea Formation stage. It was truly one of the very few of the world's best cultivation havens.
While a handful of individuals had ventured beyond the mountain's confines over the years, their extraordinary cultivation techniques and unmatched mastery of fire-based skills never failed to stir significant attention and tumult.
Nonetheless, after witnessing the harsh realities of the outside world in comparison to the comforts and extravagance of their secluded homes, all eventually returned.
In their eyes, nothing on Earth could rival the wealth and safety of Mount Targon.
Deep within the heart of the Golden Immortal's palace, hidden beneath the two largest pools of magma, grand doors served as portals to concealed realms. It was from a similar pathway from which the Abyssal Covenant had reached earth with the help of the Phantom Legion.
To the Golden Immortal's knowledge, there were only a dozen or so such doors scattered across the planet, and he alone possessed control over two of them.
On a fateful day, the Golden Immortal activated all the protective formations surrounding the mountain, then ventured into one of these two realms. For a hundred years, he remained absent from the world.
Upon his return however, the entire mountain seemed to resonate with joy, as if Mount Targon's very soul quivered in jubilation. The Golden Immortal had ascended to the rank of an Ascendant!
A small child exited from the Red Palace and strode towards the hidden realm's door.
"You've finally broken through, old friend. Does that mean that you're finally going to leave me?" said the small child, his voice and temperament seemingly out of place for his childish appearance.
Emerging from the molten pool of lava, the man in his forties bore a commanding presence as his body seemed to ripple with newfound vitality, and his features displayed a blend of wisdom and strength.
As he stepped onto solid ground, rivulets of molten lava cascaded from his form, leaving behind a fiery aura that danced around him. His golden eyes gleamed with an otherworldly luminescence, reflecting the power and knowledge he had gained through his transcendent breakthrough, and his very essence seemed to resonate with the elemental forces of fire.
The Golden Immortal couldn't help but laugh. "Old Targon, how could I ever leave you behind. You should know my temperament by now." His golden eyes shined with greed as he continued. "You think I'd leave behind a treasure such as yourself? I don't think you realize how rare nascent mountain spirits are in this world."
The small child, Mount Targons' very soul, was smiling from ear to ear. "That's good to hear. I really didn't want to be stuck with all those runts running around in Hallowed City."
The ascendant also smiled. "I have something to propose to you however and I'm fairly certain you'll agree."
"Oh?" said Targon.
"How about you join me as we travel to the Wildlands?"
"Join you? We both know that's impossible. I am forever stuck here, for as long as the mountain core is here, so is my soul." Sighed Targon.
"Is that so? Come." Replied the Golden Immortal.
Exiting the Red Palace, the two figures formed an unlikely pair as they ventured into the caves above. An hour's journey led them to the very heart of the mountain, a place seldom visited by outsiders.
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At the cave's entrance, an elderly man in the late stages of Aperture Strengthening was seated. With deep respect, he greeted the Golden Immortal, bowing his head.
Initially, the Golden Immortal appeared dismissive, but a ripple of awareness spread through him as he extended his divine sense across the entire mountain. Another one has finally emerged, he mused, a smile tugging at his lips.
After brief contemplation, he made a surprising decision. "Go to Hallowed City and depart from this mountain. On your way out, take the newborn royal and provide him with guidance. The child is henceforth prohibited from setting foot on this mountain until he can access the Red Palace through his own strength."
The elderly cultivator was taken aback and struggled to form a coherent response. "Ancestor... Why...?"
"Let's just say significant changes are approaching this mountain," the Golden Immortal replied cryptically. "As a token of my appreciation for your dedicated service over the past few centuries, I bestow this upon you and offer a single piece of advice."
With a wave of his hand, he produced a storage ring and tossed it to the elder. "You should depart within the next hour. After that, I can no longer guarantee your safety."
The elder, his eyes wide with astonishment, remained rooted in place, seemingly stunned by the revelation.
The Golden Immortal's patience waned, his brows furrowing. He had issued a warning and provided ample resources for their survival, yet the elder remained immobile. "Leave. Now," he commanded, his voice firm.
In response to the Golden Immortal's directive, the elder hurriedly left Mount Targon with a toddler in tow, leaving the ancient cultivator alone with the core of the mountain.
Targon, intrigued by the situation, couldn't help but inquire, "Why did you instruct him to depart with that child?"
A cryptic smile crossed the Golden Immortal's lips as he replied, "I am exceedingly territorial, and that child cannot remain here."
Understanding the unspoken implication, the mountain spirit's eyes widened in shock, but he refrained from pressing for further clarification. Instead, he simply nodded and followed his old friend's lead. "Very well. What's next?"
For the next hour, Targon observed in silence as the Golden Immortal meticulously placed one formation disk after another. After nearly two hours had passed, the ancient cultivator gestured for Targon to return to the core of the mountain.
"Step back into the core for a moment, and then we shall journey to the Wilds," the Golden Immortal instructed mysteriously.
Trusting his long-time companion, Targon followed the instructions and entered the core.
Once inside, the Golden Immortal's divine sense extended throughout the entire core. His golden eyes shone with an intense brilliance as fiery wings manifested on his back. Initiating one technique after another, torrents of fire True Essence crashed into the rocky structure surrounding the core, transforming it into molten lava.
This process resembled a precise surgical operation, systematically severing the connections between the core and the mountain. Eventually, the core became entirely disengaged from the mountain, beginning to descend.
Seizing the moment, the Golden Immortal soared into the sky, supporting the falling core. He extended his divine sense to encompass every inch of the precious treasure, which spanned a full kilometer of densely packed minerals.
Without becoming an Ascendant, his divine sense could have never spanned the entirety of the core. The material and presence of the mountain's soul prevented this. Now, it wasn't even difficult, although the core's size was very close to his limit.
With a single thought, the core vanished completely, and the mountain itself began to crumble. Thousands of lives were lost as the caves all collapsed, leaving no one but a few Soul Shattering cultivators alive and the escaping toddler and Elder duo.
The Golden Immortal's fiery wings emitted scorching heat, causing every tumbling rock to instantaneously transmute into molten lava. With deliberate and unhurried movements, he began his descent back to his palace, which remained the sole structure largely unscathed by the recent upheaval.
Within the palace, he embarked on a swift mission to collect every artifact he had created, each piece of art, and every precious cultivation resource. With deft efficiency, he stored the entire contents of his extensive garden before proceeding to one of the bubbling lava pools, which housed one of the hidden realm doors, leading to a plane known as the Wildlands.
And just like that, the legendary Golden Immortal disappeared from the Earth, never to be seen again.
News of the profound changes that had transpired reached the ears of many elderly cultivators. Cautiously, they ventured closer to the former domain of the Golden Immortal, yet none dared to set foot within the boundaries of the mountain.
Over the years, several Soul Shattering cultivators had met their demise merely by encroaching upon this forbidden territory.
It was only when the renowned Spear Emperor himself ventured forth that the truth was unveiled. They discovered that only a select few ancient beings remained within the mountain's core, marking the end of an era.
Despite their thorough exploration of the mountain, no one stumbled upon anything of significance. The Red Palace remained deeply ensconced within the earth and was meticulously concealed by a bewildering array of formidable formations, eluding the prying eyes of the curious cultivators.
The mountain was hastily abandoned by those who had once harbored thoughts of plundering its secrets. Their swift departure was triggered by the unmistakable realization that the Spirit Vein, the source of the mountain's extraordinary power and allure, had vanished, rendering it as mundane as any other ordinary peak in the world.
***
Far away, within the borders of Veridian Peaks, a single Aperture Strengthening cultivator and a child no older than four years old were traveling on foot.
"Uncle Robin, where are we going?"
Pausing to reflect, the old cultivator answered. "We're going to Edge City, I hear there are a few interesting cultivation grounds which should perfectly suit you."
"Edge City? Isn't that on that big mountain you keep talking about?" Asked the child.
"Yes, Young Lord. Following the instructions left by your ancestor, I have to find you the best mountain around."
The child smiled. "Can I make it mine?!"
The old cultivator, Robin Songs, grew serious. "Only if you grow strong enough."
His small eyes shined with greed as his eyes transformed from its normal grey color into a deep golden luster as he said proudly. "I am Lazar Flame. This mountain shall be mine!"
As the words escaped his mouth, he couldn't help but look at his status window.
[Bloodline of the Golden Dragon]
The description of his unique draconic bloodline conveyed sensations and insights that Lazar didn’t need to know in order to realize what he was. He inherently felt superior to others, for he was no ordinary being; he was a dragon—an extraordinary, majestic, and powerful entity.
In his youthful arrogance, he believed that the world should feel fortunate to bask in the radiance of his greatness. However, this hubris was tempered over almost a decade as he advanced through the stages of Qi Gathering.
During his time at Veridian Peaks, he encountered numerous geniuses who humbled him. His Uncle Robin had always cautioned him against revealing the full extent of his power unless facing a truly life-threatening situation.
His uncle emphasized that relying solely on such abilities to achieve victory was a sign of weakness.
So Lazar Flame listened and sealed away all of his draconic powers, only relying on his cultivation for years on end.
Until that fateful day when he was undergoing a difficult trial and was assaulted by a Rain of Swords. At that moment, his instinct took over and for the first time in his life, he released the dormant dragon within.