Chapter 222 — Eight Months

My Dao to Eternity

Chapter 222 — Eight Months

He stood at the crest for a long while, watching light move across the basin floor as the false sun climbed higher behind him. After eight months of following the formation current, he could finally see the shape of the path he had been tracing.

Whatever waited within that haze would remain there whether he approached carefully or recklessly. Throughout these eight months, Li Fan had chosen the safer path whenever one was available.

He adjusted the weight of his storage ring, examined the descent ahead, and began making his way toward the basin floor.

The descent took longer than the climb to the ridge. The terrain fell through a series of steep, uneven shelves that forced Li Fan to choose each foothold carefully. The haze he had seen from the crest thickened as he descended. It was not ordinary mist. Distorted light concealed the true shape of the basin floor until he passed more than halfway down.

Several shelves became treacherous. Loose gravel shifted beneath his boots, forcing him to test each foothold before placing his weight upon it. Twice, stone crumbled beside drops his divine sense had already marked as dangerous. Small rocks fell into the haze and vanished before he heard them strike anything below.

Three days after reaching level ground, he encountered a long tear in the earth running across his path. His divine sense found no clear bottom even at close range. Heat rose from the fissure in uneven pulses, carrying a sharp mineral scent that stung the back of his throat.

The fissure was wider than it had appeared from a distance, measuring nearly forty paces at its narrowest point. The exposed rock along both edges had been scorched black and fractured into irregular plates. Steam rose from several smaller cracks branching away from the main fissure, forming thin gray columns that disappeared several feet above the ground.

Li Fan approached the edge and tested the stone beneath his boots before extending his divine sense into the darkness. Several hundred feet below, he detected more than heat. Something moved within the depths, slow and viscous, carrying a spiritual presence dense enough to make his divine sense recoil on first contact. He steadied his awareness and examined it again.

After prolonged examination, he identified the substance as molten mineral. It differed greatly from ordinary molten rock described in the records he had studied on Blue Star. Spiritual structure existed within the liquid mineral, arranged in ordered paths that bore a faint resemblance to the formation script he had encountered throughout the Realm.

He observed it for a long while before attempting extraction. The pattern moved continuously through the molten mineral, changing its shape while following a recurring route. Its movement followed a fixed cycle that he could nearly determine.

Li Fan spent nearly two days devising a safe method of reaching it. He arranged a defensive formation around a length of chain assembled from spare metal in his storage ring and tested a sealed jade vessel against a small quantity drawn from the fissure. After confirming that the vessel could contain the material, he examined the sample. It possessed greater density and responded to his qi more readily than any material he had handled since the ore recovered from the collapsed mine months earlier.

His first attempt scorched the chain black before it cleared the mouth of the fissure. He altered the defensive formation twice before the chain retained its strength long enough to complete the extraction. Each failed attempt consumed time, but he corrected one flaw at a time and avoided introducing another variable before understanding the first.

He drew enough molten mineral to fill the jade vessel, then sealed it beneath three layers of his own formation. He placed the vessel in a separate reinforced compartment within his storage ring. A material with such a strong reaction to spiritual energy required isolated storage until he understood its properties. The same caution had guided him when handling every dangerous resource he had collected since Wei Baishan's cave.

Li Fan sat beside the fissure afterward and circulated his qi until the strain from the extraction subsided. Heat continued rising from the depths in slow waves, carrying the mineral scent across the surrounding ground.

The scorch marks on the chain gradually faded beneath the circulation of his qi. The blackened metal regained its former color by degrees. Li Fan turned the sealed jade vessel once in his hands and examined the three formation layers. All remained intact.

Whatever use the material eventually possessed, he lacked the cultivation and knowledge required to refine it properly. Every unusual material he had encountered during this journey had required study before its nature became clear. He would understand this one before attempting to use it.

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Once his qi had fully settled, Li Fan rose, checked the formation current against the haze-covered terrain ahead, and continued deeper into the basin. The sharp mineral scent from the fissure gradually faded behind him.

Morning mist remained trapped within the basin, confined by jagged basalt ridges beneath the low artificial sky. Beyond the fissure, the valley floor stretched into gray silt and stagnant pools of dark water. The ground appeared barren, but sounds carried across it from distant regions of the basin.

Li Fan crossed the gray ground, his robe dark beneath the weak light, his boots sinking less than an inch with each step. His heartbeat remained steady under controlled circulation, while his divine sense spread through the surrounding terrain.

Three miles ahead, he detected a hum.

He stopped, closed his eyes, and extended his divine sense outward in stages. One mile. Two. Five. Eight. He examined fractures in the stone and artificial vibrations moving through the earth until seven cultivators entered his awareness at the three-mile mark.

Four wore the rigid, brass-trimmed robes of the Myriad Craft Sect. Tool cases hung from their belts beside bronze token plates. Three others wore loose sky-blue robes belonging to the Azure Cloud Sect, their garments moving beneath currents of wind generated by their cultivation. The seven moved together in a deliberate search formation.

Three mechanical constructs advanced before the Myriad Craft cultivators. They possessed low, heavy bodies made from blackened iron plates and articulated bronze joints. Purple light burned within their quartz eyes. Steam escaped from their mouths with every stride. They followed a spiritual resonance rather than a physical scent.

Li Fan's fingers touched the three storage pouches fastened beneath his inner belt. They were spoils taken from two rogue cultivators during a skirmish two days earlier. He had not yet completed the inspection process he had established after the events in the marsh. The constructs were clearly designed to detect the remaining spiritual mark upon them.

"A joint expedition," he murmured behind the mask. "The local sects grow restless."

Retreat would place him on open ground where the Azure Cloud cultivators could detect him from above. Advancing directly would force him into battle against seven Core Shattering cultivators, four of them Mid-Stage, at a cost greater than the benefit. Li Fan considered both possibilities and chose another path.

Let the construct disrupt the artificer.

His figure shifted and disappeared from his previous position. He reappeared eighty feet ahead behind a moss-covered basalt pillar and listened to the approaching constructs. Their bronze joints clicked against the ground as they advanced.

"Hold," commanded a broad-shouldered man at the front of the group. He raised a finger reinforced with metal. The three other Myriad Craft disciples stopped at once. The three Azure Cloud cultivators descended from the air and joined them. Their leader was a lean young man with a long sword at his back.

"What is it, Brother Meng?" the young man asked. "Have your hounds lost the trail?"

"They do not lose trails," Meng replied. He tapped the brass plate fastened to his forearm. The three constructs lowered their bodies, their purple lenses turning toward the mist. "The resonance from the stolen pouches has strengthened. He is within two miles, and he is moving toward us."

The young man's hand settled on his sword hilt. Interest appeared in his eyes. "Bold. Let my brothers take the vanguard."

"Do not be reckless," Meng warned. He drew four carved bronze spikes from his sleeve. "This rogue killed three armed guards in fewer than ten breaths without revealing an elemental qi attribute. We engage him at close range only after the formation closes."

He drove the four spikes into the ground. The earth trembled beneath them. Four massive ballistae mounted on tripods rose from the silt. Their carriages turned toward the direction indicated by the constructs.

"Azure Cloud, take to the sky," the young man shouted. Blue light surrounded his body as he rose. "Keep the wind high!"

The three Azure Cloud cultivators ascended and formed hand seals. Wind gathered throughout a half-mile radius. Hundreds of crescent-shaped wind edges appeared overhead, suspended within the air and positioned to strike anyone attempting to escape upward.

Two miles away, Li Fan watched the sky fill with rotating wind edges. Through his divine sense, he traced the spiritual threads connecting the Myriad Craft disciples to their constructs and examined the control formation within their bronze plates.

"Reliable," he said quietly. "Rigid. Simple."

He drew three ordinary steel swords from his storage ring. They were spoils collected over the months from cultivators who had possessed little use for them. Li Fan threw the three marked pouches high toward his right and used his object-controlling technique to accelerate them away from his actual position.

A mile away, the three constructs halted. Their purple lenses turned sharply to the left, and their jaws opened with a shrill metallic cry.

"Left flank! One mile!" Meng shouted. "He is skirting the ridge!"

"He will not escape," the young man laughed and lowered his hand. "Wind-Rend Strike!"

Thirty suspended wind edges descended at once and struck the ground where the pouches had flown. Mud and broken stone erupted into the air. The constructs continued howling, their lenses still searching.

"First and second ballistae, fire!" Meng ordered.

Two iron bolts tore through the air and struck the ridge. Explosive force spread through the stone, sending fragments and boulders down the slope. Smoke covered the impact site. The spiritual resonance vanished with the destruction of the pouches.

"Did we get him?" the young man called down.

"No." Meng stared at the brass control plate, his expression darkening. "No blood. No corpse aura. A decoy."

"Looking for me?"

The voice came from thirty feet behind the four Myriad Craft disciples, within the perimeter they had established.

Meng turned sharply. A figure in black robes and a pale mask stood behind them. His hands rested within his sleeves. His sword remained sheathed.