A Farmer's Journey To Immortality

Grisham finally turned to face Heilam.

His face was calm, but there was a tight look around his eyes.

His pale skin looked even lighter under the faint glow of Spirit light. A thin layer of sweat covered his brow, not from fear, but from the effort of using so much Spirit essence in a short time. His long hair hung loose behind him, barely moving in the still air of the cave.

He looked straight at Heilam.

“Sect master,” Grisham said in a low voice, “you may not know this, but those who went deep inside have already changed.”

Heilam’s eyes sharpened.

“Changed how?” he asked cautiously. He had already started to doubt Grisham’s intentions. But he still decided to listen.

Grisham took a slow breath.

“They have been turned into poison undeads,” he said. “Their bodies are made of poison and dead flesh mixed together. They are not truly alive, so they feel no fear. Pain means nothing to them.”

As he spoke, faint sounds echoed from far inside the cave. Dull scraping noises. Slow, uneven footsteps.

Grisham continued, his voice steady.

“These poison undeads are very hard to deal with. Most elemental Spirit spells barely harm them. Fire, wind, metal, even earth, all lose their strength once they touch those bodies.”

Heilam’s expression darkened.

“And soul attacks?” he asked. By this point, he had realized that soul-based Spirit spells were the most effective way to deal with the poison creatures born in this cave.

Grisham shook his head.

“They are not fully dead either,” he said. “So most soul-based spells do not work on them like they do on puppets or ghosts. The spells pass through them or only slow them down if they are really powerful. But that’s just it. You are better off not using such attacks on them at all.”

Another cave entrance sealed shut behind Grisham. Rock slid into place with a deep rumble.

“I don’t have a way to handle so many of them,” Grisham said. “Not in such a short time. If we fight them here, they will overwhelm us.”

He finally lowered his hands.

“So I chose to seal the exits,” he said. “It is the only way to stop them from reaching us right now.”

Heilam stood silent.

The weight of Grisham’s words pressed down on him. Somewhere deep in the cave, the scraping sounds grew louder.

And for the first time since entering the cave, Heilam felt a cold chill run through his spine.

A lot of thoughts ran through Heilam’s mind at once. He then narrowed his eyes at Grisham.

The cave light flickered across his wide shoulders and hard face. His tall body stood still, like a mountain that refused to move. His voice, when he spoke, was cold and heavy.

“Alright,” Heilam said. “I believe your words. But answer me this. Why didn’t the cave change you or me? Why were we spared?”

Grisham met his gaze without flinching.

“Because we did not go deep enough,” he replied. “And because we both turned back before things crossed a line.”

He took a slow step forward.

“Just like you,” Grisham continued, “I felt something was wrong. The path was too calm. Too clean. I decided not to move ahead.”

He raised his hand slightly, as if replaying the moment.

“I turned back quickly and found the truth,” he said. “But the moment I returned here, I was attacked.”

He pointed toward the side of the cave.

“Look over there.”

Heilam followed his finger.

Five bodies lay on the stone ground.

They were no longer human in shape. Their flesh was swollen and dark, mixed with thick poison stains. Parts of their bodies had melted into strange forms, and green mist still leaked from their wounds.

But Heilam recognized them.

His jaw tightened.

One of them had been a sect elder. The other four were sect members who had followed him for years.

Their faces were twisted, but their robes, Spirit tools, and broken identity tokens made it clear who they were.

“These were part of a squad,” Grisham said quietly. “They had already turned when they attacked me. I used many trump cards just to bring them down.”

The cave fell silent.

Heilam stared at the bodies for a long moment.

His fists slowly clenched.

A deep anger burned in his chest, mixed with shock and unease. This was no simple cave. This was a trap. A cruel one.

And now, there was no doubt.

Whatever was waiting deeper inside was far more dangerous than he had expected.

However, even Grisham’s seemingly perfect answer was not enough for Heilam. He slowly turned his head and looked at Grisham again.

The bodies of the five poison undead lay between them. The poison mist around them had begun to fade, but the heavy feeling in the cave only grew stronger.

Heilam’s voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it.

“One last thing,” he said.

Grisham stayed silent, waiting.

“If everything you said is true,” Heilam continued, “and those who went inside really turned into poison undeads, then answer me this.”

He took a step closer.

“Why did you choose to fight them instead of running away?” Heilam asked. “And why does it look like you knew more about these poison undeads than I did, even though we all entered the cave at the same time?”

His eyes narrowed.

“I can understand caution,” he said. “I am a cautious man myself. But you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t try to subdue them. You didn’t try to save them.”

Heilam gestured toward the corpses.

“You destroyed them without pause,” he said. “As if you already knew it was pointless to do anything else.”

The cave grew quiet again.

Grisham let out a slow breath.

“I didn’t fight them because I wanted to,” he said. “I fought them because they left me no choice.”

He lifted his gaze.

“They attacked the moment they saw me,” Grisham said. “There was no trace of reason left in them. No hesitation. No fear.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

“As for why I didn’t try to revert them,” he went on, “it’s because I felt it instantly. Whatever changed them wasn’t something that could be undone easily. At least not by someone at my level. And not in that moment.”

Grisham clenched his fingers.

“If I had tried anything else,” he said, “I would be dead now.”

Heilam watched his face closely.

“And your knowledge?” Heilam asked. “You reacted too fast.”

Grisham nodded.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I knew a little more than most.”

He glanced at the cave walls, then back at Heilam.

“Some of my past research touched on poison spirits and twisted undead forms,” he said. “Not these exact creatures, but close enough to recognize the signs.”

His voice lowered.

“The moment I sensed them,” Grisham said, “I knew they were already beyond saving.”

Heilam looked at Grisham for a few breaths longer.

Then he nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “I understand.”

The tension in Grisham’s shoulders eased a little. His stance relaxed. The pressure in the air softened, just slightly.

That was the moment Heilam moved.

His feet slammed against the ground, and his body blurred. A movement-based Spirit spell carried him forward like a flash of shadow. Before Grisham could react, Heilam had already reached one of the sealed hive entrances.

“Wait—!” Grisham shouted.

Too late.

Heilam raised his arm and smashed his Spirit essence into the earth seal. The stone cracked at once. The seal shattered like dry clay, and the cave mouth opened again.

Without slowing down, Heilam stepped inside.

The poison miasma grew thicker with every step. It pressed against his skin and crawled into his breath. The deeper he went, the heavier it became.

Soon, he saw them.

Five sect members stood ahead, their bodies stiff and twisted. The poison miasma spun around them like small storms. It wrapped around their limbs, drilled into their skin, and poured into their mouths and eyes.

Their faces were frozen in pain.

Heilam’s eyes shook.

He roared and struck.

Flames burst forward. Wind tore through the mist. Earth spikes rose from the ground and crushed the swirling poison. At the same time, Heilam activated a soul-based artifact. A cold light flashed as it slammed into the poison that clung to their bodies.

The miasma screamed.

For a brief moment, the spinning poison weakened. The sect members trembled. Their eyes cleared for a heartbeat.

But it was too late.

Their bodies were already ruined. Flesh had blackened. Bones had softened. Poison had replaced blood.

The miasma surged again, stronger than before.

Heilam staggered back.

He stopped attacking.

His chest heaved as he stared at the scene.

He understood it now.

Grisham had not spoken the full truth.

These sect members could have been saved earlier. Maybe not all of them, but some. Grisham had known more. He had chosen not to say it.

Rage flooded Heilam’s mind.

He turned around and stormed out of the hive.

Outside, Grisham was still sealing the final exit, his hands moving quickly as earth and stone closed the last path.

Heilam stepped into view.

The ground cracked under his feet.

“You…” Heilam growled. “You evil bastard.”

Grisham froze and turned around.

“I will not let you live,” Heilam declared.

Spirit essence exploded around Heilam’s body as he rushed forward, his killing intent sharp and clear, aimed straight at Grisham.