Great Xuan, Jieli Mountain.
The mountain stood thousands of meters high, its form like a cleaver slicing straight into the clouds.
Halfway up the slope, along a perilous mountain path, two youths walked single file.
The one in front was a lean young man wearing a straw hat, his expression resolute.
The youth following him appeared several years younger but was burly in build, with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a simple, honest demeanor.
Wiping sweat from his brow, the burly youth plopped down onto the ground. “Erlang, hold up! We've been trekking for half the day. My legs are done, I can't go another step!”
The slender youth turned and handed him a water flask. “Tigers and exotic beasts sometimes roam these slopes. It’s not safe to rest here. I know a hidden cave just ahead. If you're really spent, we can rest there.”
The burly youth accepted the flask, gulped down several mouthfuls, and exhaled deeply before asking curiously, “Erlang, is there really an immortal on this mountain?”
“Absolutely. I’ve seen him with my own eyes.” Erlang lifted his gaze toward the summit shrouded in clouds, his voice firm.
The burly youth looked skeptical. “Right. You’ve been acting like a possessed man for five years now, scrambling up Jieli Mountain any chance you get. How many trips have you made? And still, you’ve never actually found one. I think you should give it up. Immortality is too vague, just a fantasy. You should focus on martial arts training, like me...”
Erlang cut him off with a frown. “Wang Xuanda, you’re starting to sound like my mother. If you keep spouting nonsense, you can head back down the mountain alone!”
The burly youth awkwardly scratched the back of his head and wisely fell silent.
The two continued their ascent along the mountain path.
Before long, an eerie wind swept through the valley.
Wang Xuanda’s ears twitched, and his expression shifted. He stepped forward, tapped Erlang’s shoulder, and raised a finger to his lips in a signal for silence.
“There’s something up ahead—” he began, his eyes narrowing. But the rest of the words died in his throat.
A cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
On the path ahead, a massive white python slithered down the mountainside, producing a distinct rustling sound.
The creature was enormous; the visible portion of its head alone measured about eight meters. The rest of its body remained concealed within the dense mountain foliage, making its full length impossible to discern.
The python was as thick as a washbasin, and its crimson eyes glowed with a terrifying red light.
It flicked its forked tongue, raised its head along the cliff face, and began its descent toward the ravine below.
Confronted by this horrifying exotic beast, both Wang Xuanda and Erlang were frozen in terror, not daring to move or even breathe.
After what felt like an eternity, the great python finally slithered out of view.
Wang Xuanda let out a long exhale and was about to speak when he heard another series of rustling sounds.
The enormous python’s head suddenly reappeared from over the edge of the cliff, its gaze fixed intently on the two youths.
Wang Xuanda and Erlang stood petrified once more.
“Hiss... hiss...”
The white python swayed its head, slowly moving closer to them.
Its massive jaws parted, releasing a wave of foul, bloody odor.
Shrouded in the python’s shadow, watching as its head loomed close enough to swallow them whole, Wang Xuanda could bear it no longer.
He let out a thunderous roar, his muscles bulging as his body seemed to expand.
He flipped backward and swung his fist down toward the white python’s head.
Clang!
The impact actually produced a metallic ring!
At that moment, Erlang moved as well.
With a single step, the rock beneath his feet shattered to dust. His figure blurred, and in the blink of an eye, he appeared behind the white python.
Shifting his fist into a finger-strike, he delivered several dozen piercing jabs in rapid succession.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of collisions echoed without end.
Yet, despite their fierce assault, neither of them had so much as scratched the python’s scales!
Hissing in fury, the python twisted its body and lashed out, striking Wang Xuanba squarely in the chest.
Thud!
Wang Xuanba was sent flying, crashing against the cliff face and sending shattered stone flying in all directions.
Instead of chasing Wang Xuanba, the python swung its enormous head around, maw yawning wide as it lunged at Erlang.
Thrown off-balance, Erlang had no time to evade. He could only brace himself, arms outstretched, forcing its jaws apart with every ounce of strength he had.
The python unleashed a chilling roar and drove forward with overwhelming force.
For an instant, it looked as though Erlang had been swallowed whole—but with a low, guttural growl, he held his ground, muscles trembling as he pried its jaws open.
A fierce stalemate followed. Furious at its failure to devour this seemingly insignificant human, the python thrashed violently, smashing Erlang again and again against the mountain trail and jagged cliffs in an effort to shake him loose.
With each impact, Erlang’s fingers sank deeper into the python’s flesh, sharp as blades.
As time passed, the mountain path was gradually pounded into a mess of craters and shattered stone where Erlang’s body had slammed into it again and again.
Suddenly, a crimson light flashed in the python’s eyes, and it spewed a stream of dark brown liquid from its mouth.
Erlang barely twisted his head aside in time to avoid a direct hit, but the venom drenched his body.
Sizzle...
Where the venom touched, flesh sizzled and corroded, revealing glimpses of a dark, glimmering gold beneath.
He grunted in pain, his strength finally failing. The python flung him aside, and he landed hard beside the unconscious Wang Xuanba.
Spitting a mouthful of blood, Erlang struggled to prop himself up. He stared at the approaching python, a flicker of bitter defiance in his eyes.
Ever since that evening months ago, when he’d witnessed an immortal soaring through the skies above Jieli Mountain, his heart had been consumed by the pursuit of immortality.
Time and again, he had ventured deep into these mountains, hoping to find that very immortal and become his disciple.
His obsession had even driven a wedge between him and his mother.
Yet here he was—not only had he failed to find the immortal, but he was about to die in the jaws of this beast.
He, Sun Erlang was born with divine strength and mastered every martial art he’d ever attempted. Was this truly how his life would end? How could he accept such a fate?
But as the python’s shadow fell over his spent and broken body, Erlang could only close his eyes in despair.
Just as he resigned himself to his death, the clear, piercing cry of a crane echoed from deep within the mountain.
The python froze at the sound, as if it had encountered its natural predator. Its head shot up and its tongue flickered, its entire focus locked in the direction of the cry.
Sensing a shift in the situation, Erlang forced his eyes open.
A white crane descended and engaged the python in fierce combat!
The crane danced through the air, deftly evading the python’s strikes while driving its sharp beak into the python’s body, tearing away strips of flesh with each precise peck.
Though less agile, the python’s thick, rugged hide allowed it to endure dozens of the crane’s attacks without significant loss of vital essence.
Yet a single successful bite from the python would be enough to cripple the crane.
Gradually, the white crane began losing ground.
Seeing the two exotic beasts locked in fierce combat, paying no attention to his presence, Erlang struggled to his feet, intending to seize the opportunity to flee with Wang Xuanba.
Just then, a sound like crashing tides came from the mountains.
Erlang froze, looking up to witness a bizarre spectacle.
In the sky, countless birds flocked together from all corners of the mountain, darkening the heavens like ominous clouds as they swarmed toward the battle.
On the slopes, mountain rats, crawling insects, even apes, tigers, leopards, and countless creatures Erlang had never seen before emerged abruptly from every direction, forming a beast tide that charged toward the dueling crane and python.
Realization dawned on Erlang, and his face paled.
If they were caught in this beast tide, the two of them stood no chance of survival!
The red-eyed white python also sensed the danger, ceasing its fight with the crane and attempting to flee.
Yet the crane refused to relent, as if harboring some irreconcilable hatred toward the python. Even as it was bitten until bloodied and torn, it refused to let the snake escape.
In moments, the birds and beast tide arrived.
They ignored both the crane and Erlang, their eyes fixed solely on the massive python!
The white python let out a terrified cry, but it was already surrounded by countless wild beasts. There was no way out, no escape.
The beasts went mad, trampling one another in their frenzy to tear into the python’s flesh.
Even as their teeth shattered and blood flowed freely, they refused to release their grip.
Many beasts literally chewed themselves to death, only to be immediately replaced by others.
It was as if the white python had committed some unforgivable sin.
All creatures, feathered, furred, or otherwise, charged forward relentlessly, determined to devour the white python completely.
This would only end in death!
The python vanished beneath the beast tide, its struggles growing weaker and weaker.
After what felt like an eternity, all movement ceased.
Only then did the beasts gradually disperse.
Not even a single bone of the massive red-eyed white python remained.
Witnessing this eerie scene, Erlang stood frozen in place, not daring to make a sound for a long while.
He swallowed hard with difficulty, finally regaining his senses after what felt like ages.
Suddenly, he seemed to remember something. He looked around and shouted loudly, “Immortal Master, is that you? It must have been your doing, right?”
In his view, this unnatural beast tide could only be the work of that immortal who secluded himself within Jieli Mountain.
Erlang felt both excited and anxious.
Unfortunately, though he shouted until his voice grew hoarse, there was no sign of the Immortal Master.
He sank into deep disappointment.
***
Not far from him, Li Fan watched with a faint smile.
The Immortal Master stood right before him, yet the mortal could not perceive him.
This child shows promise. His physique seems somewhat unusual, and his determination to seek the Dao is quite firm. Li Fan observed quietly, a hint of appreciation in his gaze.
But I haven’t even secured my own footing yet. How could I possibly teach you? Li Fan chuckled and shook his head.
It’s better to wait until the time is ripe before granting you an opportunity.
He pointed gently toward Erlang.
Sun Erlang suddenly felt dazed. He looked around somewhat confusedly before finally hoisting the still-paralyzed Wang Xuanba over his shoulder and making his way down the mountain.
Watching the two leave Jieli Mountain, Li Fan then turned his gaze to where the white python had been devoured.
A surge of satisfaction rose within him.
The last nine years of dedicated research were not in vain. This Formless Killing Mechanism is truly extraordinary.
The recent chaos within Jieli Mountain, where every bird and beast had simultaneously gone mad trying to devour the white python, had been his doing.
Having already reached the late-stage Qi Refinement realm in this life, he had chosen to seclude himself within Jieli Mountain to avoid the influence of Immortal-Mortal Miasma.
Here, he waited for the Return to Truth to finish charging while devoting himself to rigorous cultivation.
Since the Immortal Forsaken Lands contained no spiritual qi, he had spent the vast majority of his time contemplating the energy mechanisms of heaven and earth he had observed in his previous life.
Nine years of painstaking dedication had finally borne fruit, allowing him to comprehend a single technique: Formless Killing Mechanism.
Once unleashed, this technique could mimic the killing mechanisms of the Heavenly Dao to a certain extent within a defined range.
When heaven unleashed its killing mechanisms, it naturally manifested through various deadly calamities.
A target marked by Formless Killing Mechanism would perish from these calamities without Li Fan needing to lift a finger.
Take the crimson-eyed white python, for example. After being marked by Li Fan’s Formless Killing Mechanism, it became a target for the Heavenly Dao’s killing mechanisms within the bounds of Jieli Mountain.
Heaven and earth nurtured all living things, and the will of heaven and earth governed the vast majority of creatures in this world.
Thus, countless animals were driven by this will, developing an all-consuming killing intent towards this white python.
This killing intent would only vanish once the white python was utterly destroyed.
Borrowing the authority of heaven’s will—this was the formidable power of Formless Killing Mechanism.
The power of this divine ability was considerable, its method insidious, and its execution incredibly subtle.
The divine ability itself was like the killing mechanisms of heaven and earth, resembling a pure will and rule.
Ordinary cultivators simply couldn’t detect it.
Possessing so many advantages, it was truly the essential tool for murder and plunder.
No wonder Li Fan was so pleased.
Of course, since this initial experiment of the Formless Killing Mechanism had only targeted ordinary mountain beasts, the resulting spectacle was quite grand.
As for what effect it would have on cultivators of equal or higher cultivation levels than Li Fan, that was something he would have to test personally in the future.
Having tested out the divine ability, Li Fan returned to the thatched hut where he lived in seclusion atop Jieli Mountain.
After briefly tidying up, Li Fan checked the charging progress of Return to Truth.
It had reached 99%.
It is time to set foot in the cultivation world once more.
Li Fan immediately summoned the Taiyan Boat and flew to Xuanjing City.
Wielding the might of an immortal, he amassed vast quantities of treasures and grain as he had in his previous life.
Once the Taiyan Boat was fully loaded, Li Fan went to Qian Hong’s tomb.
With his current cultivation, the restrictions of the Halt Stele Fragment could no longer harm him.
Entering Qian Hong’s tomb, Li Fan retrieved the bound Halt Stele Fragment from Return to Truth’s spatial storage.
The two Halt Stele Fragments merged together, forming a completely new Halt Stele Fragment.
It was not as aged and worn as before, bearing only a few cracks on its surface. But it still seemed to lack that final step towards a qualitative transformation.
Li Fan wasn’t particularly concerned. Having experienced the immense power of the Deepsea Pearl, he no longer found this Halt Stele Fragment particularly valuable. It was simply something to sell to the Tianxuan Mirror for contribution points anyway.
Taking the two techniques from Qian Hong’s tomb and the damaged Taiyan Boat as well, Li Fan departed on his flying boat.
After flying for some distance, he turned back.
He returned to the tomb, gathered Qian Hong’s remains, and prepared to bring them back to the cultivation world, fulfilling the final wish of the deceased.
Now, with no more attachments, Li Fan smoothly passed through the Immortal-Slaying Grand Array and returned to the cultivation world.
Seeing the clear blue Congyun Sea again, Li Fan felt as if a lifetime had passed in the blink of an eye.
He took out Qian Hong’s bones, reduced them to ashes, and scattered them over the vast sea.
Above, a strange phenomenon suddenly manifested in the sky.
A single flower petal drifted from a branch. Carried by the wind, it wandered endlessly without rest.
“Foundation Establishment cultivator Qian Hong cultivated for 265 years, establishing his Dao Foundation with the Curio, Drifting Plum Blossom.”
“Exiled for 3670 years, his soul now returns home, his Dao returned to the heavens!”
The phenomenon lasted no longer than half the time it took to drink a cup of tea before fading away without a trace.[1]
1. A few minutes ☜