Chapter 112 - 82 : The Cage (1)

Chapter 112: Chapter 82 : The Cage (1)

By the time Ethan reached the outskirts of Wailing Mountain, the sun had already begun to sink behind the ridges.

The road he had followed for most of the day had gradually narrowed into a rough mountain path, its packed earth giving way to exposed stone and patches of dry grass. The farther east he went, the fewer signs of people he saw. The occasional merchant cart had disappeared. So had the scattered farmhouses and roadside shelters that had marked the lower lands.

Ethan didn’t mind.

In fact, there was something about the journey he genuinely enjoyed. Coming from the modern world, traveling through a land like this almost felt like being on a long tour. The roads, farmlands, forests, hills, and scattered settlements were all things he would have appreciated far more if he had been traveling simply because he wanted to see the world. He could have taken his time, stopped whenever he found somewhere interesting, enjoyed the scenery, and treated the journey as a chance to experience the cultivation world for himself.

Under different circumstances, it might have even felt like a long vacation.

But he was being hunted.

Every few days, another cultivator appeared, another pair of eyes lingered too long, and another group wondered whether the price on his head was worth trying for. Azure Cloud Sect had placed a bounty on him, branded him a demonic cultivator, and given strangers a reason to come after his life.

That was the part Ethan could do without.

If he had been free to travel on his own terms, he would have enjoyed the journey much more. Even so, he wasn’t going to let the people chasing him ruin everything. The world beyond the roads he had known was still new to him, and there was plenty along the way worth appreciating.

He simply wished he could experience it without someone constantly trying to kill him.

Wailing Mountain offered something the roads could not: space, and with no one around to question why he covered himself, Ethan finally let his hood fall back.

There was little reason to keep it up anymore. Too many eyes already knew who he was, and hiding his face beneath a hood had become more uncomfortable than useful. He had always preferred to keep his head covered while traveling, but now that Blood Demon was already an open secret along these roads, there was hardly any point in pretending otherwise.

His long dark hair fell neatly behind him, tied back to keep it from getting in the way. His pale skin stood out against the dark-gray robe, which rested cleanly over his lean frame and moved lightly with each step. There was nothing extravagant about his appearance, yet the way he carried himself gave him a quiet sense of refinement that did not quite belong on a road through the mountains.

He looked less like a wandering cultivator and more like a young nobleman who had somehow wandered far from wherever he belonged.

There was a calmness to him that made the impression even stronger. He did not walk as though he were trying to appear important; he simply moved with the natural composure of someone who had never needed to prove that he belonged wherever he stood.

Ahead, the mountains rose higher, their dark slopes pressing closer together until the path narrowed between towering walls of rock. The evening wind felt colder here, slipping through the narrow passage and brushing against Ethan’s skin as he walked deeper into the mountains. The farther he went, the quieter everything became, until even the sounds of the road behind him seemed to fade, leaving only the wind moving through the rocks.

Then something else joined it.

At first, Ethan could barely make it out a long, low sound carried on the wind, so distant that he could not tell whether he had actually heard it. He slowed and listened as the sound gradually rose before thinning into the distance. It sounded almost like a woman crying, the kind of distant cry that made the empty mountains around him feel suddenly much larger than they had moments before.

Ethan stopped walking, his attention fixed on the slopes ahead. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then another gust swept through the rocks, twisting its way between the narrow walls, and the cry returned. This time it was longer, rising and falling through the valley with a mournful sound that seemed almost human. It echoed faintly against the surrounding slopes before fading into the deepening darkness, leaving behind a chill that Ethan could feel settle across his skin.

He looked toward the dark mountains ahead, his expression slowly becoming more serious.

"So that’s where the name came from."

He had heard stories about Wailing Mountain before, though none had ever sounded particularly reliable.

Some claimed the strange sound was nothing more than wind passing through the mountain formations. Others told a darker story about an old demonic cultivator who had once performed a ritual somewhere in the mountains. According to that version, women had been slaughtered and their souls used to forge some kind of evil weapon or treasure.

The details changed depending on who told it.

Some said the ritual had happened hundreds of years ago.

Others claimed it was much older.

There were even people who insisted the mountain itself still carried the cries of the dead.

Ethan couldn’t say whether that was true or not. In a world where cultivators could refine Qi, bend the laws of nature, and reach heights ordinary people could hardly imagine, there was little reason to dismiss a strange rumor simply because it sounded impossible. The cries could have been nothing more than the wind passing through the rocks, but perhaps there was something more to them as well. Who could really say?

Either way, it was none of his concern. Ethan had not come to Wailing Mountain to uncover its secrets.

People liked stories, especially stories about places they didn’t understand. And in a world like this, sometimes there was no easy way to tell where the story ended and the truth began.

The wind rose again, slipping between the rocks and carrying another distant cry through the mountains. Ethan barely gave it a thought as he continued along the path. Whatever had happened here in the past, and whatever truth might lie behind the stories surrounding Wailing Mountain, the place had something he needed now, a stretch of land where he could disappear from the roads and have some peace to cultivate.

By the time the sun had disappeared completely, Ethan found a deep valley nestled between two steep sections of the mountain. Sparse trees clung to the rocky slopes, their roots winding through cracks in the stone, while a narrow trail crossed the valley floor and several smaller paths climbed toward the surrounding ridges. Ethan slowed as he looked over the terrain, taking in the different approaches and the way the slopes concealed parts of the valley from view. There was enough room to move if he needed to leave, yet anyone approaching from the main trail would have to pass through open ground before reaching the deeper parts of the valley.

It was secluded, difficult to notice from a distance, and far enough from the main roads that he was unlikely to have people wandering through by accident. More importantly, the surrounding terrain gave him places to watch from and several ways out if someone did find him.

Ethan studied the valley for several breaths before stepping inside.

He let his Blood Perception spread through the surrounding slopes and trees, sweeping across the area to make sure nothing living was hiding nearby. Only when the familiar sense returned nothing out of place did he continue toward the overhang.

"Good enough."

He set down his things.

The night deepened around him. Above the valley, the moon climbed between the mountain peaks, its pale light spilling across the rocks as the wind descended from the higher slopes and funneled through the valley floor. That strange sound came with it again, drifting between the mountains like a distant cry.

Ethan ignored it.

He had heard worse sounds on the road.

After eating, he settled beneath the overhang and began to cultivate. His breathing gradually slowed as spiritual energy entered his body, following the circulation he had been refining since reaching Qi Refining. Deep within him, the Blood Seed stirred in response.

The blood he had taken from the cultivators who came after him had not simply vanished. His body had refined what it could use, turning part of it into Living Blood while the energy contained within the cultivators’ blood accumulated within the Blood Seed.

It had been building with every encounter, after the six cultivators from the ravine, the groups that came after them, and the blood he had collected from those who had tried to kill him. None of it had been wasted, and the accumulation was beginning to show.

His own cultivation had been advancing alongside it.

Ethan could feel it now.

His Mid Qi Refining cultivation was approaching another threshold. Late Qi Refining was close now. Ethan could feel the difference in his cultivation, the distance between where he stood and the next level having narrowed to something almost tangible. It was there, just beyond the edge of what he had accumulated, waiting for him to push a little further.