CHAPTER 30: IMMORTAL CAVE

Behind him, Mu Qinxue’s voice called out one last time—calm and steady, but now holding a new kind of warmth and responsibility.

"This place is your home now. Rest and grow stronger. Tommorrow, I’ll teach you the technique you’ll need to learn. It won’t be easy... but nothing worth doing ever is."

Then, with a soft breeze and a graceful flick of her sleeve, she vanished beyond the formation gate.

Tian Lei slowly turned around, taking in the cave’s interior. This wasn’t just some ordinary cave—it felt sacred, almost divine.

"So this is a real Immortal Cave... I’ve only ever read about them in the scrolls back at the Heavenly Sword Sect," Tian Lei said to himself, running his fingers along the smooth walls veined with jade. Qi pulsed gently beneath the stone—calm, steady, and endless like a deep river.

"Only core disciples... or personal disciples ever got access to places like this," he added in a quiet voice.

He stood silently for a moment, letting the atmosphere sink in.

Then a faint, amused smirk appeared on his face.

"Well... I am a personal disciple now. Of the Sect Master herself, no less. I suppose it adds up."

He spoke lightly, almost jokingly—but the look in his eyes wasn’t light at all. There was seriousness in them. Caution. A flicker of hope. And a trace of doubt.

He walked over to the cultivation bed. It wasn’t just a bed—it was part of a spiritual array, built to gather and refine qi even as someone rested.

He sat down on it and let out a long breath. The bed’s softness, the warmth of the qi in the air, and the faint scent of spirit wood incense—so different from the cold stone floors he used to sleep on, back when betrayal still haunted him and survival was always uncertain.

"...I just hope this one doesn’t betray me too," he whispered to no one, his voice barely more than a breath.

His eyes drifted shut, and the tension in his body slowly melted away. Finally, exhaustion caught up to him, and he slipped into sleep.

Tian Lei stirred faintly in his dreams...

But suddenly, he wasn’t lying in the bed anymore.

His eyes opened to find himself standing in the middle of a broken battlefield that stretched on forever.

Ash drifted down from a shattered sky.

Red lightning crackled through black clouds like angry veins.

And the earth beneath him trembled with the force of distant clashes.

Massive, terrifying demons towered over ruined mountains—twisted monsters made of fire, flesh, and darkness. Some had shredded wings. Others dragged spiked spines like heavy chains. All of them were charging forward... toward the last line of defenders.

Humans.

Cultivators.

Saints.

And other beings Tian Lei had never even heard of—each of them glowing with radiant qi, sacred energy, or righteous fury.

"Hold the line!" someone thundered—a voice like rolling storms.

Tian Lei turned quickly—

But he didn’t see himself.

He was seeing everything through someone else’s eyes.

This body he now occupied... it was incredibly strong. Beyond anything he’d ever felt. The qi flowing through it was ancient and powerful—almost divine.

Its robe was woven with patterns of blazing sunfire. The sword in its grip hummed with sacred chants. And when it slashed—

BOOM!

Thousands of demons were incinerated in an instant.

"Die, demons!" the voice roared. It wasn’t just a shout—it was a divine command. And the world listened.

Tian Lei felt each swing, each surge of energy, each precise and deadly movement.

The War of Immortals and Demons... The thought surfaced in his mind—something he’d read only whispers of in ancient tomes. A war so massive it tore apart the heavens and broke continents.

But why was he seeing this?

And why was it from this person’s perspective?

As the chaos swirled around him, he glimpsed names etched in the void itself—Crimson Scourge, The Void-Eater, Queen of Chains, Ten-Thousand-Eyes Prophet—beings so horrifying they made his breath catch.

Yet the body he was in—the war god—faced them all without fear.

He shouted to someone: "Mu Shenhua! Pull back to the ninth line! I’ll hold the breach!"

A woman’s voice replied, panicked: "You’ll die!"

The war god gave a small, grim smile. "Then let me die as I lived—facing the abyss."

And then he leapt.

His sword became a star in the sky.

And then—

BLINDING LIGHT.

Tian Lei was hurled out of the vision—ripped from the body, spinning through time and smoke—

Until he snapped awake in his bed, soaked in cold sweat. The echo of that godlike roar still shook through his bones.

The Immortal Cave was quiet. Peaceful.

But his heart was pounding like a drum.

"...What was that?" he whispered, stunned.

His hand moved to the center of his chest on instinct.

Was that... the memory of the last person who carried the Infinite Fortune Core?

The realization hit like a thunderbolt.

"The Infinite Fortune Core... it’s been passed down through countless hosts over the ages. Every time the current one dies, a new one inherits it," he murmured aloud. His throat was dry. "That wasn’t a dream. That had to be the last one’s memory."

He let out a slow breath, trying to steady the slight tremble in his fingers.

Golden morning light now filtered softly through the glowing veil of the Immortal Cave. Somewhere outside, spirit-light birds chirped gently.

"...Did I really sleep that long?" he muttered, still trying to fully return to reality.

He walked to the basin and splashed cool spiritual water on his face. The sharp chill helped him focus.

"I’ve read that powerful divine artifacts sometimes leave behind echoes—memory imprints for their next wielder. That vision... must’ve been one of those."

He paused, staring into the water’s reflection. His face looked composed. Calm.

"Nothing more."

It was a lie. Smoothly spoken. But still a lie.

He dried off his face, straightened the new disciple robes—silk layered with spirit threads and marked with the Azure Feather Sect’s personal disciple insignia—and turned toward the exit.

"Time to report to Master," he said flatly.

Even though deep down, with a treasure like the Infinite Fortune Core... he didn’t actually need a master to begin with.

"I’ll pretend to be learning from her. If the technique she offers is useful, I’ll accept it. If it’s not... I’ve got plenty of other paths."

His thoughts were cool, logical. But the moment he stepped out into the light, his entire presence changed.

Gone was the worn traveler from before. In his place stood a refined, disciplined youth clad in sharp black-and-gold robes made from voidweave silk—clothing meant only for the personal disciples of the Sect Master.

Though his aura was controlled, there was something noble about him. Calm, confident, untouchable.

As he walked along the floating bridges of the inner sect, eyes followed his every step. And behind him, whispers rose like smoke laced with curiosity.

"Who is that?"

"That’s him. The one the Sect Master took in."

"Seriously? I heard he was just a mortal realm cultivator..."