Two years later………
At the edge of the Eastern Spirit Continent, inside an extremely remote and hidden mountain cliff, a group of mysterious masked figures gathered in a cave. They sat cross-legged together, led by a black-robed man at the front of the group.
“How many will we need this time?”
A man in yellow robes asked the black-robed man in a low voice.
“…Roughly over a hundred.”
The black-robed man pondered for a moment before answering.
“So many!?”
The yellow-robed man couldn’t help exclaiming in shock. He found it hard to believe. Previously the numbers had stayed in the teens, at most sixty or seventy. He hadn’t expected it to jump to over a hundred this time.
His outburst drew the attention of the others as well. For a moment, the entire cave filled with noisy murmurs. If one listened carefully, most of the voices carried clear dissatisfaction.
A slightly cold, deliberately hoarse voice spoke up. Though the speaker had tried to disguise it, it was clearly a woman. Her words were thick with resentment, as if even the mask couldn’t hide the anger on her face.
“He gets to sit back and enjoy the fruits while we do all the dirty work. If any of us manage to advance in the future, we’ll still have to repay this karmic debt sooner or later!”
Her words only fueled the group’s discontent further. Some people angrily ripped off their masks and slammed them to the ground, cursing.
“If things keep going like this, we’ll end up repaying the debt while still at Core Formation!”
“In the end we’ll just die, body and Dao extinguished!”
“Damn it, this young master hasn’t even gotten married yet! I don’t want to die young!”
Some cursed, some sighed in despair, while others suggested they should just run away together.
The black-robed man watched the scene spiral out of control and sighed inwardly. There was nothing he could do—he was merely a hound serving greater powers. He had no right to choose; only a fate that had already been chosen for him.
“Enough! All of you, quiet down!”
His roar instantly silenced the cave. After all, he was a late Core Formation cultivator. Facing more than ten Foundation Establishment juniors, he carried absolute authority.
“This mission was personally ordered by the Old Ancestor. Do not slack off!”
“Form groups of three. Complete the task within five days, then return here.”
Faced with the black-robed man’s orders, everyone could only swallow their anger. He was the strongest here and could decide their life or death with a single thought.
The black-robed man gave detailed instructions. Soon the cultivators below had formed their teams and set off one after another.
Only after everyone had left did he relax his shoulders and let out a helpless sigh.
Of course he knew how much the younger ones feared and respected him—but so what? He was nothing more than a small late Core Formation cultivator. On the surface he seemed free and unrestrained, yet in reality he occupied the most awkward position of all.
He felt tired, but then something occurred to him and he relaxed slightly.
After all, he hadn’t personally carried out the orders he had just given, nor had he enjoyed any of the benefits. Therefore he wouldn’t have to repay any karmic debt. As long as he cultivated honestly from now on, the Heavenly Dao wouldn’t punish him.
The ones who truly had to repay the debt were those juniors… and the old monsters who actually enjoyed the results.
The black-robed man felt a flicker of relief that he had not reached that stage yet.
Sometimes he really thought those Old Ancestors were all madmen. The method they had come up with filled him with dread the moment he learned of it. And their sects still claimed to be upright and righteous—how laughable that seemed now.
The black-robed man felt a chill in his heart. Was this kind of cultivation truly what he had once longed for?
Suddenly he stood up, as if sensing something, and spoke calmly toward a dark corner of the cave.
“Since you’ve already arrived, Fellow Daoist, why not come out and talk? There’s no need to hide.”
“Hehe! Impressive detection skills, Fellow Daoist.”
A figure slowly emerged from the darkness. The person let out a hoarse sigh of admiration. They wore a hooded black robe, making it impossible to tell if they were male or female.
(Their cultivation is roughly the same as mine—late Core Formation. But this person might specialize in concealment techniques. I need to be careful!)
The black-robed man raised his vigilance to the highest level, staying on guard against the stranger.
(My concealment art is rarely seen through by those at the same realm. This person’s cultivation might be higher than mine. I must proceed cautiously!)
The black-robed stranger also felt a trace of wariness toward the black-robed man and did not dare act rashly.
The two remained silent for a moment. Finally the hooded figure broke the quiet. Laughing in a deliberately carefree manner, they spoke.
“Seeing how you’re dressed, Fellow Daoist, and coming to this desolate place… could it be for…?”
The sentence was left unfinished on purpose, a deliberate probe. After all, what cultivator would come to such a remote, uninhabited area?
The black-robed man was momentarily stunned by the hooded figure’s words. He had assumed the other person had simply stumbled upon him by chance. He hadn’t expected that this stranger might also be here for the same purpose.
Instead of answering the question, he went straight to the point.
“…Fellow Daoist, did you bring some juniors with you this time?”
The moment the words left his mouth, both of them confirmed the other’s intention. They simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief.
This remote location was a place where demonic cultivators ran rampant. Cultivators at their level feared nothing more than running into reckless demonic cultivators by bad luck—that could lead to real trouble.
“Since Fellow Daoist is also here for that matter, why don’t we set some ground rules? That way our juniors won’t accidentally clash and end up fighting amongst ourselves. That would be rather embarrassing.”
The hooded figure spoke again. Now that they had confirmed each other’s identities, there was no need to keep pretending.
The black-robed man pondered for a moment, then nodded. If any of the juniors met with an accident, he would have a hard time explaining it back at the sect.
“What does Fellow Daoist suggest?”
“How about this? We each send a message to our disciples. If they encounter one another, they are not to fight. They will determine the winner by cultivation level. Whichever side has more people at the higher realm will take priority, and the other side will leave. Sound good?”
The black-robed man did not agree immediately. Instead he asked a question.
“What are the cultivation levels of the juniors you brought?”
“Foundation Establishment fourth layer, Qi Refining sixth layer.”
After hearing the hooded figure’s answer, the black-robed man nodded lightly.
“Agreed.”
Both of them then used their spiritual tools to send voice transmissions to the disciples they had brought, carefully explaining the situation. Only after that did they sit down facing each other once more.
Silence filled the cave.
Suddenly the black-robed man spoke to the hooded figure again.
“…Roughly how many does your sect need this time?”
The hooded figure gave him a deep look.
“Fifty or so will suffice.”
The black-robed man let out a heavy sigh, as if speaking to the hooded figure or to himself.
“Our Old Ancestor… requires more than a hundred this time.”
“So many!?”
The hooded figure was visibly surprised. They had thought their own sect’s requirement of fifty-plus was already excessive. They hadn’t expected the man before them to need over a hundred.
“Forgive my bluntness, but… with so many… can your Old Ancestor bear the karmic burden?”
“Hehe, that’s not something we should be asking about.”
The black-robed man gave a bitter, helpless smile. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t be doing any of this. It had long gone against the original aspirations he held when he first stepped onto the immortal path. But some things were simply beyond his power to change.
“…Over the years, this area has pretty much been…”
“Fellow Daoist, be careful with your words. We only need to carry out the tasks our sects have assigned us. As for anything else… we don’t get involved.”
The hooded figure cut the black-robed man off. They didn’t want to continue this line of conversation. Deep down, they also knew that after decades of “harvesting,” there probably weren’t many “seeds” left in this area.
In the past, although this barren land had been difficult to survive in, it was vast, and the number of “seeds” had been considerable—around a hundred thousand or so.
But after decades of continuous “mining,” with more and more sects joining in, only a few thousand remained, barely clinging to life. If things continued like this, they would soon be forced to search the borderlands of some mortal kingdoms.
That would be extremely dangerous. If the true major sects discovered what they were doing, only death awaited them. Their actions had already come dangerously close to those of the so-called demonic cultivators—something the world would never tolerate.
The hooded figure and the black-robed man looked at each other. Both saw the deep helplessness in the other’s eyes.
What… were they supposed to do?