Chapter 444: Iron Blood Peak |
Ling Chenye hesitated.
Had it been an ordinary disciple, he would have barred the way without a second thought.
But the man standing before him was not only a core disciple, he hailed from Green Wood Peak.
Everyone in the Immortal Sect knew there were three types of people you simply did not offend.
Those who forged artifacts.
Those who refined pills.
And those who farmed the land.
These cultivators were fiercely united; crossing one meant bringing the wrath of the entire group down upon your head.
Furthermore, joining Green Wood Peak required a Wood Spirit Root.
And not just any Spirit Farmer, but one bearing the esteemed title of Cultivation Envoy.
Seeing the guard’s silence, Jiang Chen cupped his hands. “I am here to see Senior Brother Long Ao. I would be grateful if Fellow Daoist Ling could make an exception.”
Ling Chenye frowned. “According to sect rules, uninvited guests are forbidden from entering Iron Blood Peak.”
Jiang Chen let out a soft “Oh” and turned to leave.
He wanted to see Long Ao and ask about the incident, but if the gates were barred, he wouldn’t force the issue.
A second later, Ling Chenye’s tone shifted. “But rules are dead, and people are living. I know Long Ao as well. You may enter.”
Jiang Chen’s mouth twitched. “You certainly adapt quickly.”
Ling Chenye offered a playful smile before his body blurred, dissolving into a gentle breeze that scattered into nothingness.
Amused by the encounter, Jiang Chen committed the man’s face to memory, then summoned Shattered Moon Flowing Frost and sped toward Iron Blood Peak.
As he drew closer, the very texture of the Spirit Qi shifted.
The Metal Spirit Qi felt like fine needles, stinging his meridians upon absorption.
The Fire Spirit Qi burned like wild embers, violent and unruly.
The Water Spirit Qi wove through the air like icy silk, threatening to freeze his bones.
The Earth Spirit Qi hung like heavy iron sand, thick and suffocating.
Even the normally gentle Wood Spirit Qi was tainted here, carrying a faint, venomous edge that resisted smooth cultivation.
The environment was brutally unforgiving; an ordinary cultivator would not last a day.
Before long, Jiang Chen brought Shattered Moon Flowing Frost to a halt in a wide clearing.
The area branched out in all directions, a crossroads leading to the various sectors of the peak.
Unsure of Long Ao’s exact location, he retrieved the man’s Communication Talisman.
Minutes ticked by, but the talisman remained dark and silent.
If the talisman were broken, his Spirit Qi wouldn’t have activated it at all.
Since it flared to life, there were only two possibilities.
Either Long Ao was occupied, or his injuries were grave.
Suddenly, Ling Chenye’s voice drifted into his ear. “Long Ao and Feng Lie are the only two survivors from Dongting. They are currently recovering in the Cold Abyss Gorge.
Keep walking to your left, and you will find the entrance.”
Jiang Chen cupped his hands toward the empty air. “My thanks.”
He dashed in the indicated direction, his figure quickly blurring into the distance.
Miles away, Ling Chenye frowned in confusion. “Strange. I used the wind to transmit my voice. How did he pinpoint my exact location?”
…
…
Soon enough, Jiang Chen spotted the entrance.
Tucked into the darkest, northernmost shadow of Iron Blood Peak, a massive fissure tore through the rock, looking as though a god had cleaved the mountain with a giant axe.
Millennia-old ice coated the jagged walls. Beneath the translucent frost, the bluish-black stone had been frozen as hard as tempered iron.
A frozen waterfall hung over the gorge’s maw. As water plummeted, it crystallized mid-air into translucent icicles, shattering against the cold pool below and sending up clouds of fine ice shards instead of mist.
The cold was absolute; every breath felt like swallowing crushed glass, tightening his throat.
The gorge radiated a suffocating malice toward any cultivator without a Water or Ice Spirit Root.
Fortunately, Jiang Chen had achieved Perfection in the Five Elements and forged his Golden Core. He walked through the biting frost completely unbothered, immune to its hostility.
He ventured deeper. The chill thickened with every step, the ice shells swelling into massive, natural pillars and sweeping curtains of frost. The faint sunlight that managed to pierce the gloom refracted into a haunting, azure glow.
An icy stream bisected the cavernous passage.
The current didn’t burble like normal water; it flowed with a crisp, rhythmic clack-clack of grinding ice.
Jiang Chen kept to the left, following the frozen stream into the depths.
Along the way, he passed several Iron Blood Peak disciples.
Every single one possessed either a Water or Ice Spirit Root.
They stared at his rustic Spirit Farmer attire in open surprise.
A few stopped him, their eyes sharp with vigilance as they questioned his presence.
However, recognizing him as a fellow Immortal Peak disciple-and verifying his Cultivation Envoy token-they let him pass without further trouble.
“Excuse me, where is Long Ao?”
“At the very bottom of the gorge.”
“My thanks!”
Jiang Chen asked his way down until he reached the absolute depths, a lightless abyss where he finally found Long Ao lying in a heavy ice coffin. Feng Lie rested in another beside him.
Both men were completely sealed in solid ice.
To put it mildly, they looked horrific.
Their bodies were mangled, missing arms and legs.
Jagged lacerations, deep contusions, and charred flesh covered what remained of them. Just looking at the gruesome wounds made Jiang Chen’s scalp prickle.
Jiang Chen let out a heavy breath. “At least you’re alive.”
A voice, crisp and cold as shattering frost, echoed from behind him. “Who are you?”
Jiang Chen turned-and froze.
Standing there was a breathtakingly beautiful fairy, her moon-white robes trailing elegantly across the frozen stone.
The fabric bore no gaudy patterns; only the collar, cuffs, and hem were lined with flowing water motifs stitched in shimmering silver thread.
Her face was a flawless oval, her nose elegantly high, and her lips the pale pink of spring peach blossoms.
Her phoenix eyes tilted slightly upward at the corners, sharp and piercing.
Her brows were slender and long, like delicate willow leaves.
Ink-black hair was swept into a high bun, secured by a lustrous white cold-jade hairpin from which three strands of silver thread dangled.
Cold. She was impossibly cold.
It wasn’t just her demeanor.
Her very presence sapped the warmth from the air.
The aura radiating from her was an absolute, suffocating zero.
She looked as though one of the millennia-old ice sculptures of the Cold Abyss Gorge had suddenly taken human form.
This was no ordinary disciple. The aloofness etched between her brows belonged only to those who stood at the absolute pinnacle.
Jiang Chen decisively lowered his head, cupping his hands in a deep bow. “Core disciple of Green Wood Peak, sole Cultivation Envoy of the Spirit Farm, Jiang Chen!”
The woman’s willow brows arched slightly. “Why are you here?”
“Senior Brother Long and I go way back,” Jiang Chen explained. “I heard he had returned, so I came to check on him.
I never imagined they would end up like this.”
Her face remained an impassive mask. “Long Ao, like Feng Lie, was critically wounded by a Raging Fire Thunder. They require this profound ice to suppress the lingering destruction in their bodies.”
Jiang Chen nodded in realization. “I see.”
“Neither Long Ao nor Feng Lie will be able to speak for quite some time. You may leave.”
“May I ask what exactly happened in the Canglan Sea? Specifically in Mystic Heart City?”
“I am equally in the dark. If your curiosity demands an answer, go ask that bird.”
“Do you mean Storm Crane 7?”
“Indeed.”
“Where is Storm Crane 7 now?”
“Beast Mountain. The Thousand Crane Forest.”
“Understood.”
“Leave. Do not disturb my disciple’s rest any longer.”
Disciple?
Jiang Chen’s pupils shrank.
Could the woman standing before him be the legendary Nascent Soul True Lord who had swept through all seven peaks without a single rival-Ling Shuang?!
