“How did mortals travel to the Immortal Forsaken Lands during the Great Migration?”
Perhaps because he had never considered this before, Kou Hong froze for a moment when Li Fan posed the question.
“The Great Plague Era ended thousands of years ago. We don’t know the exact circumstances of that time. Everything we know about those days is just hearsay.” After pondering for a moment, Kou Hong shook his head.
“What, still refusing to give up?” Kou Hong glanced at Li Fan and couldn’t help but mock him. “Even if you leave, what then? At seventy years old, you still think you can cultivate...”
He trailed off as Li Fan’s icy gaze swept over him. From the corner of his eye, he could sense the torturers shift restlessly, their predatory eyes gleaming eagerly. Kou Hong shuddered and awkwardly shut his mouth.
Li Fan had already released Kou Hong from prison.
After being trapped in a secret chamber and subjected to the “baptism” of Immortal-Mortal Miasma, his cultivation had regressed drastically, plummeting to the early-stage Qi Refinement realm.
Now, he could no longer use any of his Dao techniques and was no different from a mortal, albeit slightly stronger.
He had cursed and raged when he was initially captured, but after enduring several rounds of brutal torture, Kou Hong finally broke.
“So even lofty cultivators are no different from us mortals once they’re stripped of their power. In fact, don’t even have our backbone,” one of the torturers sneered sarcastically.
“Indeed, this one didn’t even last two hours under our hands,” another added mockingly.
Kou Hong, however, remained composed. “Better a live coward than a dead hero. Besides, in the cultivation world, life and death, success and failure—they’re all commonplace. Though you’re just a mortal, your methods and will are extraordinary. My brother and I have nothing to say about getting outmaneuvered by you. We were simply outmatched!”
“You don’t hate me?” Li Fan asked curiously.
“Hate you? Of course I do!” Kou Hong took a fierce swig of the fine wine Li Fan had provided. “But what good would that do? Right now, you’re the butcher’s knife, and I’m the fish on the chopping block. Should I waste my breath on empty threats? That’d just be asking for death.”
“You’re surprisingly pragmatic,” Li Fan said with a faint smile.
“Just clinging to life, that’s all!” Kou Hong snorted coldly.
“If you could return to the cultivation world, would you be able to cultivate again?” After a moment of silence, Li Fan suddenly asked.
“What...?” Kou Hong was momentarily stunned.
“If you help me find a way to the cultivation world, I might take you with me when the time comes,” Li Fan promised.
“You treacherous bastard. Until now, you’re still trying to trick me?” Kou Hong flared up in anger, but quickly regained his composure, glaring at Li Fan.
Li Fan remained expressionless. “Truth or lie, it’s still a shred of hope. Will you abandon this chance at survival and waste away in this tiny corner of the world?”
Hearing this, Kou Hong fell silent.
His expression twisted violently, clearly torn by inner conflict.
After a long while, he finally let out a heavy sigh. “Fine! I agree!”
“Rest assured. I, Li Fan, always keep my word.” Li Fan’s voice was firm.
The torturers nearby immediately stiffened, bowing their heads.
Every official in the court knew that the Grand Preceptor’s word was absolute: if he said he’d slaughter your entire family, it was as good as done.
“Don’t bother feeding me empty promises. I’m only helping you because I’m gambling on that sliver of hope,” Kou Hong sneered.
Li Fan didn’t bother explaining further and instead laid out his theory directly.
Kou Hong listened, then responded slowly. “If my guess is correct, the cultivators of the past likely used artifacts like flying boats or flying shuttles to transport mortals during the Great Migration. In ancient times, the cultivation world was densely populated. Sects flourished everywhere, and such transportation artifacts were exceedingly common. But after the Great Reformation, cultivators began going solo, concerned only with their own survival, and flying boats and shuttles gradually vanished from sight.”
“The Great Reformation... you mean that strange plague?” Li Fan asked.
“The Immortal-Mortal Miasma was indeed bizarre, but it wasn’t enough to shake the foundation of the cultivation world. The truth is, the miasma ran rampant because the vast majority of cultivators perished in the earlier Great Reformation. With the cultivation world’s strength crippled, there was no way to counter the miasma effectively.” Kou Hong shook his head, his expression grave.
“The Great Reformation?” Li Fan suddenly recalled the ruined sect he had glimpsed deep within the Abyssal Chasm, and his mind stirred. “Could it be... the Exclusivity of Immortal Techniques?”
Kou Hong shot Li Fan a surprised glance, baffled as to how he had guessed right.
“Exactly, the Exclusivity of Immortal Techniques!” Kou Hong sighed heavily.
“In ancient times, no such restriction existed. Countless great sects thrived, openly accepting disciples and passing down their teachings. Cultivators had masters to guide them, fellow disciples practicing the same technique to spar with, and peers to consult when facing difficulties. The cultivation world was brimming with vitality, a magnificent sight to behold!” Kou Hong spoke with unconcealed yearning.
“But then, the Great Reformation struck! One day, cultivators suddenly realized their cultivation efficiency had drastically declined. While cultivating, they could sense how many cultivators across the world were practicing the same technique. And to their horror, they discovered that the more people cultivating the same technique, the slower everyone’s progress became.” Kou Hong’s voice lowered, a flicker of fear in his eyes.
“At first, restraint prevailed, and everyone attempted to search for solutions. But as decades passed, countless cultivators found their progress frozen, their lifespans running out. Eventually, the killing intent they had been suppressing could no longer be contained.
“A true catastrophe swept through the cultivation world. Anyone who practiced the same method as another stood in the way of their path, becoming an irreconcilable enemy! In an instant, masters and disciples, martial brothers and sisters, all became mortal foes! Even those who abhorred bloodshed had no choice. How could they trust that the other wouldn’t strike first? Who dared believe their friend wouldn’t plunge a dagger into their back? Suspicion festered endlessly. The only person a cultivator could trust was themselves!
“Every sect became a slaughterhouse overnight. Even rogue cultivators hiding in remote mountains or secret realms weren’t spared, because those who practiced the same techniques could sense each other’s locations!
“The endless, relentless killing raged on for who knows how long before finally subsiding. By then, the once-prosperous cultivation world had withered into desolation. All sects had vanished, leaving behind only solitary cultivators, each walking their path alone.” Kou Hong recounted the ancient upheaval of the cultivation world with measured words.
Li Fan listened, his emotions surging, but an even greater question arose within him.
If the law of the Exclusivity of Immortal Techniques held true, then how did present-day cultivators cultivate? And what exactly did the current cultivation world look like?