An Alchemist's Path to Eternity

Two days later, across the boundless Quicksand Wasteland, two dusty figures trekked forward through the sand.

”This isn’t working. These scattered enemies out here are getting rarer. If we keep hunting like this, there’s no way we’ll collect another two thousand!” Chu Kui growled, clearly agitated. His expression was dark; clearly, he was frustrated.

Luo Chen silently tallied their current merit points. After many days of effort, he and Chu Kui had managed to accumulate a full eight thousand points. It was an astonishing feat. It meant that dozens of Foundation Establishment cultivators had already died at their hands. From surprise attacks and ambushes to frontal assaults and even kill-steals, they’d used nearly every tactic available, yet it still wasn’t enough.

Chu Kui muttered darkly, ”Before long, you’re going to leave the frontlines and head to the rear. Based on your analysis, once the Four-Sect Alliance takes the eighth mountain, they’ll probably halt their offensive. Then it’ll all go back to that damned stalemate with the Sword Sect. If that happens, how long will it take us to earn the rest of the points? Are we waiting here until the twelfth day of never?[1] Oi, Luo Chen, say something already!”

Suddenly, Luo Chen came to a stop. The wind swept past, carrying sand that lashed against his face, yet his gaze lifted toward the distant Jilei Nine Mountains, where dark clouds churned and tendrils of fiend qi coiled upward into the heavens.

Chu Kui followed his eyes and his eyes narrowed. ”You’re not thinking of heading to the main battlefield, are you?”

Luo Chen remained silent, still deep in thought. Chu Kui spoke with concern. ”You said it yourself, the main battlefield right now is nothing but a meat grinder. The two major sects don’t even see their vassals and rogue cultivators as people. If we go there...”

”Are you afraid?” Luo Chen suddenly asked in return.

Chu Kui froze for a heartbeat before his face flushed crimson. ”You think I’m scared?”

When it came to the Great Dao, there was no room for fear. If Chu Kui had feared death, he would never have chosen to fight alongside Luo Chen in the first place.

Luo Chen nodded. ”In that case, let’s seize this only opportunity.”

Just as he stepped forward, Chu Kui grabbed his arm. ”I’m not afraid. But you’re not like me. You’re still young and already well-known. Even if you don’t take the risk now, with your ties to the Ice Fortress, your chances of forming a core later are still high. If it doesn’t work out, then just give it up for now. Let me stay here alone on the battlefield. A few more years, and I’ll eventually scrape together the remaining two thousand merit points.”

Luo Chen glanced down at the hand on his arm. Chu Kui took the hint and let go. Dust swirled across the wasteland, yet the crimson-robed figure before him remained composed and unwavering.

”I’ve never actually set foot in the Ice Fortress,” Luo Chen said quietly. ”Whether they’ll help me with Core Formation is uncertain. And even if they do, it won’t come free. There’ll be a price to pay. The moment I accept it, I’ll be bound more tightly than ever.”

But isn’t forming deeper ties with a major sect a good thing?

Chu Kui didn’t understand, but Luo Chen didn’t explain. He didn’t share his deeper suspicions about the Nascent Soul sects, the unsettling signs he had seen, the undercurrents he had begun to piece together. If he was right, the Ice Fortress might not last much longer, and once he was too deeply tied, their rise and fall would become his own.

He continued, ”That’s why, if I can form a core on my own, I’ll keep my independence. A guest elder is nothing more than a guest.”

Chu Kui seemed to ponder the words.

”Besides, you said you’d stay here alone to find your chance. But how do you know the chance will exist later?”

Chu Kui blinked. ”You mean...”

”There’s no point in spelling it out,” Luo Chen said with a faint smile. ”Let’s go.”

The wind howled around him as Chu Kui stood motionless, face shifting between indecision and resolve. After a moment, he gritted his teeth and resolutely followed in Luo Chen’s footsteps.

***

The main battlefield at the eighth mountain had become a true meat grinder. Every inch of land was fought over with blood and bone. The brutality of the war had far surpassed anything anyone could have imagined. Rogue cultivators wanted to withdraw, vassals wanted to withdraw, and even some of the major sects had attempted to pause the fighting.

However, under the pressure of the Falling Cloud Sect and Jade Cauldron Sword Sect, no one was allowed to retreat. Gone was the earlier calm with which Luo Chen and Chu Kui had moved across the battlefield, striking like death itself. Now, even claiming a single enemy had become an arduous task. Everyone who had survived this long was a true elite. They were experienced and sharp in both spirit consciousness and judgment. At the slightest hint of danger, they would either bombard from afar or flee several li in a blink.

Just after Luo Chen managed to kill a mid-stage Foundation Establishment sword cultivator, trouble arrived. Their path of retreat had been sealed.

A lone figure stood ahead with a black sword in his hand. He asked, ”Dan Chenzi? Tian Kuizi?”

Chu Kui edged closer and asked warily, ”Who are you?”

The man’s voice was frosty. ”My name is Jiang Cheng.”

The name was unfamiliar, but neither Chu Kui nor Luo Chen dared take him lightly; the dense wave of ninth-stage Foundation Establishment spirit power around him was unmistakable.

Jiang Cheng’s lips curved into a slight smile. ”They call me Thunderflash Sword. That name, you might recognize.”

Thunderflash Sword!

The moment the words left Jiang Cheng’s mouth, both Luo Chen and Chu Kui turned pale. Without the slightest hesitation, they shot backward in retreat, their speed so fierce it blurred the air behind them. Yet even as they moved, Jiang Cheng moved faster. In an instant, his sword dissolved into a streak of lightning that engulfed his body in a shell of crackling energy, and with every step he took, thunder roared through the heavens. In just a few strides, he was within a hundred zhang, close behind Luo Chen and Chu Kui.

”I’ve heard of you both. A formidable rogue cultivator and a so-called alchemy master. Yet, your actions are disgraceful, worthy only of devils. Today, I will purge the devils and uphold the Dao!” Jiang Cheng sneered.

As he spoke, he formed seals with both hands. A black-and-white light surged over his body, with thunder simmering underneath. Overhead, thunderclouds began to gather, resonating with his aura.

Thunderflash Sword was one of the most dangerous Initiates across the entire Jilei Nine Mountains. His fame even exceeded that of Yan Leizi and Lightning Sprite. Most cultivators who saw him fled without a second thought. Even Luo Chen and Chu Kui, who were usually the ones causing panic, were doing the same.

Jiang Cheng sneered as he watched the two flee in disarray. But the very next second, his expression twisted in anger. ”Despicable bastards!”

Dozens of thorny vines burst from the ground, halting his advance. The soil beneath his feet turned to mush, and two monstrous brown-yellow hands clawed their way up, reaching for him with snarling ferocity.

Schhhh! Schhhh!

Twin arcs of black-and-white sword light tore through the air, cutting down both attacks with ease. Yet before he could move again, he saw something that truly startled him—the return of the two figures he thought had fled! The Heaven-Equaling Staff came crashing down from above, while a blazing greatsword followed, hurling a torrent of meteoric fire straight toward him.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened. Sword light erupted from his body in all directions.

Boom! Boom!

The explosions came one after another, sending dust flying in all directions. From within the roiling haze, a single streak of light shot backward, retreating at lightning speed.

He had entered with arrogance and fled in equal disgrace.

Chu Kui rested the Heaven-Equaling Staff against his shoulder and sighed. ”That one was worth a thousand contribution points. What a waste.”

”If he were that easy to kill, he wouldn’t be worth a thousand,” Luo Chen said evenly. ”He’s a True Inheritor of the Jade Cauldron Sword Sect. We only managed that strike because he underestimated us.”

As he spoke, Luo Chen opened his storage pouch and took a quick mental count of the remaining thornflower seeds. If he used them sparingly, he had enough left to cast Vine Bind another dozen times.

”Let’s go.” Luo Chen turned without another word. But the instant he moved, his pupils tightened sharply.

”Don’t rush now.”

The voice was old, so old it sounded as though it had survived the rise and fall of dynasties. And yet beneath its weary tone was something sharp, like the clash of sword and steel.

From a distant ridge, an aged man stepped into view. He moved slowly, each footfall deliberate. But his murky eyes held endless sorrow, and at the same time, unrelenting rage.

As the old man drew near, Luo Chen’s heart began to race uncontrollably. A faint flame-shaped mark suddenly surfaced at the center of his brow.

At first, it was dim. But with each step the old man took, the mark grew clearer, brighter. Within moments, it blazed a vivid crimson, pulsing like true flame, scorching Luo Chen’s skin.

Seeing the flame mark, the old man finally halted. ”So it is you... Luo Chen.”

1. The original 猴年马月(monkey year, horse month) is a colloquial expression based on the Chinese calendar, where the year of the monkey is the ninth year in a 12-year cycle and the month of the horse is the fifth month. It’s used to signify an indefinite or impossibly distant time. ☜