Dust sifted from the ceiling as the latest tremor shook the stranger's cell. He paused mid-kata, stretching his awareness outward through stone and steel like casting an invisible net. Another tremor, stronger this time. He sensed one of the compound's outer defensive formations shatter like breaking glass, its qi dispersing in violent, chaotic waves. Then another. And another. A cascade of failing barriers sent spiritual shockwaves through the prison.
Curiosity and concern battled within him as he reached for the cell door, excitement quickening his pulse. Formation arrays that once seemed complex now bent to his will with practiced ease—no longer needing the bracer to open the door. The corridors stood empty and silent—as they should, with all other slaves secured in their cells by the Leash's sleeping command.
As soon as he stepped out of the room, he could feel the buildup of vast amounts of qi ahead in the main compound area—a gathering storm of spiritual energy that prickled against his heightened senses. Something big was happening.
His footsteps rang through the deserted halls as he made his way toward the compound's central hub. Distant sounds of combat occasionally accompanied by tremors broke through the usual silence, growing louder with each step. As he approached the main chamber, the normal azure glow gave way to brilliant daylight. Then came the unmistakable crack of a high-level qi technique being unleashed.
The spectacle in the central chamber froze him in place, his breath catching. A battle straight from a Harry Potter movie unfolded before him, triggering an odd mix of awe and déjà vu. Cultivators formed a defensive wall beyond the cafeteria—some hovering midair, others riding gleaming sword platforms, the rest positioned on the ground. They faced a horde of corrupted monstrosities pouring through what remained of the compound's gate, now just rubble strewn across the floor. Each stone fragment's broken formation lines sparked with failing energy.
The familiar wrongness permeated the air—that same violation of reality he'd sensed during the beast surge. The monstrosities' essence pulsed with corruption and decay, their life signature a sickly crimson shot through with veins of midnight black—death given physical form. Reality itself seemed to flinch from their presence, like flesh recoiling from a burning brand.
Eight formation masters atop floating sword platforms formed a semi-circle around the breached gate, each channeling qi into a different-colored gem hovering before them. The gems amplified their power with ambient chi, projecting overlapping half-dodecahedrons that formed a barrier against the monstrosities—a far more advanced version of the mine barriers. Daylight glow emanated from the barrier, with brilliant geometric patterns etched across each face. Each layer countered specific threats including corruption and void energy—a masterwork of formation construction flowing from the gem artifacts.
They've faced demonic beasts before, he realized, a cold thrill running through him. The stranger narrowed his eyes, tracking massive chi rivers flowing through invisible channels throughout the compound into the construct. Fascinated, he traced the intricate energy flow from the formation network to the barrier pattern—a masterful system of power transfer that reminded him of circuit diagrams. Each formation master's contribution created a unique geometric layer, the eight patterns interlocking and reinforcing each other with an elegance that spoke to the programmer in him. Together, they formed something greater than the sum of individual components—like synchronized code modules building a complex application.
A piercing shriek cut through his concentration.
A massive mantis-scorpion hybrid scuttled across the ceiling, crystalline carapace leaking corrupted qi that would have decayed the stone if not for the protective formations. It battled two core cultivation masters—their emerald lifeforce signatures unmistakable—its sword-sized stinger dripping luminescent venom that warped the air. Like the deep delvers, it moved with unsettling intelligence, positioning for optimal strikes.
Below, a trio of Huang foundation cultivators moved in perfect synchronization, their qi circulation following patterns similar to what he'd observed during the mine battle. Golden energy wreathed their blades as they wove through what his fractured memory labeled the Thirteenth Heaven's Harmony form—he wondered briefly if they called it the same thing here. Whatever its name, the devastating combination attack required the same precise coordination he'd seen the overseers use in the previous battle. Silver blades whipped out, devastating a group of centipede-like creatures, ripping them to shreds.
Near the shattered main gates, a horror-beast that seemed built from living shadow and corrupted bone prowled forward. Its form constantly shifted like oil on water, each movement leaving traces of that same twisted essence he'd sensed in the mines. The creature's very presence seemed to dim the formation lights, as if reality itself recoiled from its touch.
Core level, he assessed, just like the creature on the ceiling. This was a crazy amount of power for a normal beast surge. From conversations he had overheard from the other slaves, he had never heard of a surge reaching this far. To have breached the defenses of a compound was unheard of. At least no one he had talked with seemed to think it was possible.
The shadow creature moved like smoke and was on a pair of foundation cultivators before they could react, blackened saber teeth shredding their bodies. He winced, stomach churning as their screams pierced the air, the black ichor eating away their flesh like acid. Despite everything he'd witnessed in this world, the brutality still shocked him.
A young Huang cultivator—identifiable as a beast-tamer by her spiritual imprint—met the shadow-beast's advance, her movements flowing through familiar defensive patterns. Golden qi-ropes materialized around her hands, their light cutting through the creature's darkness. The stranger noted how she maintained optimal distance while circulating her qi in tight, controlled bursts—similar to how Jihun had fought during the surge.
"Heavenly Constriction Pattern!" she called out, her voice carrying the same sharp authority he remembered from the overseers. The qi-ropes blazed brighter as she wove them through precise geometric forms, coiling around the creature's limbs and body. Though the shadow-beast thrashed against the bindings, her tight control of qi kept each strand perfectly tensioned.
A thunderous impact drew his attention to where three more horror-creatures had breached the eastern wall. These monstrosities looked carved from obsidian and magma, their crystalline forms housing cores of living flame. Reality bubbled and warped around them.
The stranger mapped their movement patterns instinctively. The largest creature favored its right side, compensating for what appeared to be previous battle damage. The smallest adjusted its gait to account for asymmetrical crystal growth along its legs. They coordinated their advances though he wasn’t sure how.
He watched the battle unfold for a time, mesmerized by the dance of death and power. A strange calm had settled over him. Some buried part of him actually yearned to join the battle, a reaction so uncharacteristic it momentarily startled him. Then a chilling thought struck him—if these creatures had breached the compound's legendary defenses, nothing would stop them from reaching the maintenance tunnels.
Yuechuang.
The stranger spun on his heel, leaving the epic battle behind. His body carried him through the empty corridors at impossible speed, every fiber of his being focused on reaching the maintenance tunnel entrance. He had to get to her before the horror-creatures discovered her hideout. He'd seen what they could do to solid stone—the maintenance tunnels wouldn't slow them for a heartbeat. He had to keep her safe.
He was halfway to the tunnel entrance when a roar cut through the mayhem—a sound he'd been dreading since he first sensed the breach.
"Xíngzhe!"
The stranger's steps faltered as Cang's killing intent washed over him like a wave of ice water. Fear tried to root him in place, but he forced himself forward. Yuechuang needed him. Everything else was secondary.
He reached the tunnel entrance and slipped inside, plunging into familiar darkness. It was like having a detailed map of the mines etched into his mind—he knew every twist and turn as he ran, following the path to one of Yuechuang's hidden chambers he'd detected long ago but never mentioned. Behind him, he could feel Cang's qi signature in pursuit—relentless, focused, and somehow wrong. The core formation cultivator's energy patterns showed signs of strain, like fractured glass barely holding together under enormous pressure.
After a time his current tunnel opened into a larger chamber, one the stranger recognized from his spiritual mapping. Ancient mining equipment lay scattered about—rusted carts with splintered wheels, pickaxes with handles worn smooth by long-dead hands. The air held the musty scent of deep earth mixed with something else—jasmine. She had been here recently.
His spiritual sense expanded outward, searching for hidden dangers while his senses cataloged every detail. A faint breeze caressed his face—impossible this deep unless there was another exit. This would have to do. He would have to face Cang here. He wasn’t willing to jeopardize Yuechuang’s safety by leading him to her safe space. He paused, feeling for the subtle vibrations of Cang's footsteps. Roughly a minute before his pursuer would arrive.
Drawing from his threefold perception, he detected the faint impressions left in the chamber—emotional residue that told a story few could read.
Fear. Determination. And something unexpected—hope. Yuechuang hadn't just passed through. She'd been planning something, he wondered what it could be.
The approaching qi signature grew stronger, more unstable. Cang was pushing himself beyond safe limits—dangerous for both of them. The stranger mentally prepared himself for what was to come. He wondered if Yuechuang was OK as he looked one last time around the chamber which would soon be a battlefield.
Cang's presence filled the chamber entrance, his qi roiling with barely contained violence. The stranger turned to face him, instantly noting how the core formation cultivator's meridians pulsed erratically. The Leash sparkled throughout Cang's spiritual system—a venomous network of light turning the man's own qi against him. He could see that Cang's struggle against the Leash was causing catastrophic damage throughout his spiritual pathways.
"Why are you doing this?" the stranger asked, shifting into a defensive stance. He turned his heightened senses fully on Cang—cataloging the trembling muscles, the ruptured spiritual pathways, the way his qi flickered between patterns of control and chaos like a dying star.
Cang's laugh carried an edge sharper than any blade. "Because you're the Worldbreaker." He spat a mouthful of blood, his meridians visibly straining against invisible bonds. "The prophecies speak of one who would walk between worlds and emerge from darkness with no memory of self, yet bearing the weight of ages. One whose very existence threatens the fabric of creation." Another spasm wracked his body as the Leash tightened. "The Shadow Whisper knows it. I volunteered to come to this pit, to live among these worthless slaves. And when I bring your head to the guild, they'll finally understand my true worth."
As Cang ranted about prophecies and worldbreakers, Yuechuang's question floated through the stranger's mind: "What are you?" He nearly smiled despite the deadly situation—he'd been tempted then to growl "I'm Batman" in his best Christian Bale impression. But now, facing Cang's fanatical certainty, the question didn't seem quite so amusing.
Cang launched a series of attacks—a calculated sequence designed to probe for weaknesses. Like any opening sparring match, except each strike carried enough force to shatter stone. This was no game of tag; each attack, if landed, would kill a mortal instantly.
The stranger's mind raced as he dodged the first attack, anger mixing with dawning understanding. Prophecies, seriously? Why do I keep finding myself inside some kind of movie or novel? He burned to hear more about this prophecy, but right now, his priority was Yuechuang, alone somewhere in these tunnels. If Cang knew about her—if these horror-creatures found her—
His protective instincts surged, mixing with a growing fury. Why did Cang have to do this now? He's getting in my way, dammit. If he'd just waited till tomorrow, I'd already be gone. He remembered all the talks he and Yuechuang had shared, the growing camaraderie, her tentative smile. He had to make sure she was safe.
To his surprise, he could match Cang's speed. More than match it—his body flowed through the movements like water finding its natural course. As they exchanged blows, he marveled at the power and grace of his own movements. Though anger burned through his veins, he mostly dodged and blocked, circling his opponent to avoid being backed into a corner. Something deeply buried in his mind—memory or dream—told him he needed to test his limits.
"How?" Cang's eyes widened as the stranger evaded yet another killing blow.
The next exchange saw a dramatic boost to Cang's speed and power as he channeled qi to enhance his abilities. The stranger actually had to start cycling jing through his system just to maintain pace. I'm like a freaking superhero, he thought, a small smile crossing his face despite the deadly dance.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
"The prophecies said you would have to grow into your strength," Cang snarled, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, "but you can already match a foundation cultivator!"
Cang again increased his speed and power to new heights, moving with the blinding ferocity of a storm. The stranger was forced to use his tri-fold power—layering his qi and jing in his skin for protection while also using both to boost his strength, toughness, and agility. It was a simple cycle, still not pushing his true limits. When he activated his shen, everything seemed to slow down around him—or perhaps his thoughts had accelerated beyond normal perception.
He knew their movements couldn't be tracked by mortal eyes. The experience was reminiscent of scenes from The Matrix—moving incredibly fast while his mind processed everything in bullet time. It was exhilarating. Traditionally, fighting focused on speed and power. His old karate instructor had a saying: there were only two types of fighters—the quick and the dead. You trained your body with a limited number of techniques until they became instinct, and trained your mind to be empty so your subconscious could react to openings almost instantly. But that approach paled in comparison to this—thinking fast enough to analyze every angle while causing his body to react with perfect precision. He almost laughed with the pure joy of it.
Cang broke off his attack, his guard down as if the stranger's power no longer concerned him. “The prophecies say the Worldbreaker will shatter everything,” he ranted, blood now streaming from his nose in rivulets that stained his tunic. “Our cultivation systems, our hierarchies, even our understanding of reality itself.” His hands began tracing circular patterns in the air—like he was rolling an invisible sphere between his palms—earth qi gathering around him in a swirling cloud that thickened with each pass. Though particles obscured Cang's form, the stranger's threefold senses cut through the veil, every detail still crystal clear to him.
"But they also speak of signs—the ability to resist dao and domains, unprecedented control over qi, and most importantly, protection of the catalyst." As Cang spoke, dozens of jagged earth spikes formed within the swirling cloud surrounding him—invisible to normal sight but glowing like amber beacons to the stranger's spiritual sense. Each spike thrummed with concentrated earth qi, their points aligned toward him, a hidden arsenal waiting to be unleashed.
Shit! He's not playing anymore. The stranger maintained his defensive stance while mapping several escape routes. He needed a distraction. The catalyst? What catalyst? But he couldn't focus on Cang's ravings—not when every heartbeat spent here was another moment Yuechuang remained somewhere in these tunnels, vulnerable and alone. He’s destroying his spiritual system. The question is can I wait him out? He concentrated jing and qi in his legs, feeling the energy coil like springs beneath his skin, muscles primed with power ready to launch him away from the expected attack.
"You don't even realize what she is, do you?" Cang's laugh turned into a wet, rattling cough that spattered the stone floor with droplets of blood. "The girl you're so desperate to protect—she's the key to everything. The prophecies say the Worldbreaker's choice regarding the catalyst will determine whether the old order falls or transforms."
The stranger felt ice form in his veins. He knows about Yuechuang. He's known all along. His protective instincts flared like a supernova, and for a heartbeat, he felt that strange power stir again—the one that had manifested during the beast surge. It moved within him like an ancient leviathan rising from the depths, primordial and vast. Memory fragments flashed behind his eyes—other battles, other powers, other lives. But before he could grasp them fully, Cang unleashed his gathered earth qi in a devastating attack that forced the stranger back into desperate defense, the moment of revelation lost beneath the urgent need to survive.
The earth spikes shot forward in a deadly constellation, exactly as the stranger had anticipated. With jing and qi already primed in his legs, he exploded into motion—a blur even to cultivator eyes. The coiled energy released like a compressed spring, launching him to the side as dozens of stone projectiles shattered the ground where he'd stood a heartbeat before. Fragments of rock peppered his skin, but his hastily layered qi protection absorbed the worst of it.
As the stranger dodged the deadly barrage, he felt an odd tug at his left sleeve—pulling his arm just centimeters from a shadow-wrapped stone that would have shredded his bicep. His clothing rippled against his skin with an almost sentient purpose, the fabric tightening around vulnerable areas just before impacts. The sensation was subtle but unmistakable—like having a second skin that possessed its own protective instincts. Is my clothing... helping me? The thought flashed through his mind as he continued evading Cang's assault, noticing how the fabric seemed to shift minutely before each attack, guiding his movements with gentle pressure.
Fascinating as this discovery was, he couldn't afford to dwell on it now. Without pausing, he deepened his tri-fold circulation, expanding what he'd used in his previous battles. He knew this moment would come. When Cang would start using his external techniques, the true gap between their cultivation levels would become apparent. Though he'd somehow kept pace with a core formation cultivator in physical combat, external techniques would change everything. Whatever strange assistance his clothing might offer, it wouldn't be enough against the full power of a core formation cultivator unleashed.
Despite his enhanced strength, speed, and toughness, he remained only a condensation cultivator—unable to fortify with aspected qi or launch external techniques of his own. This put him at a severe disadvantage.
With the combined enhancement of both qi and jing flowing through his meridians, he moved with fluid precision, his upper dantian slowing each moment to a crawl. He could see every shift in Cang's stance, every flicker of qi gathering before a technique—the earthy amber glow of power collecting in his hands, the obsidian darkness of shadow qi lacing through his fingertips. It was almost preternatural—as if he could anticipate Cang's movements before they happened. But seeing wasn't enough.
Cang's next attack came wrapped in shadows, the earth qi moving in unpredictable patterns that defied normal physics—seemingly fading in and out of even his spiritual sense. The stranger twisted away, but not quite fast enough. Stone shards infused with shadow energy tore through his left arm, leaving trails of darkness that seemed to resist his body's natural healing. The wounds began mending almost instantly, but the pain was intense—and Cang wasn't waiting.
The core formation cultivator pressed his advantage, each technique building on the last with frightening precision. Walls of stone erupted from the ground while shadow-wrapped spears of rock struck from multiple angles. The stranger's enhanced speed kept him alive, but only barely. For every blow he avoided, two more found their mark, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through his system.
"You heal fast," Cang observed, his voice strained as blood trickled from his ears—visible evidence of his continued struggle against the Leash's influence. "But can you heal fast enough?"
The stranger's response was cut short as the ground beneath him suddenly liquefied into churning quicksand. He leaped clear, tri-fold power-enhanced legs propelling him skyward, but Cang had anticipated the move. A stone pillar caught him mid-jump, sending him crashing into the chamber wall with bone-crushing force. He felt ribs crack, the healing process beginning immediately—but the pain slowed him just enough for Cang's follow-up strike to land.
Shadow-infused stones ripped through his chest and abdomen like shrapnel. The stranger tasted copper as blood filled his mouth, his vision momentarily blurring as he stumbled backward, his body already working to repair the damage. But Cang was right—the injuries were coming too fast, too severe. Even his remarkable healing couldn't keep pace with this onslaught.
The stranger tried to gather himself, to mount some kind of defense, but Cang's techniques were relentless. Earth and shadow qi twisted together in devastating combinations that filled the chamber with deadly projectiles. The stranger could track each attack perfectly—his mind mapping trajectories and identifying safe zones with computer-like precision—but his body was failing him. Even as wounds healed, the accumulated damage and pain were taking their toll, slowing his responses by crucial fractions of seconds.
"I have to admit," Cang said, gathering power for another assault as earth swirled between his palms, "you've surprised me. None of our other operatives saw what you were. They called me crazy, obsessed." His laughter held an edge of madness as he fought against another wave of the Leash's control, meridians flaring with painful light visible to the stranger's spiritual sense. "But I watched you. Studied you. The way you moved, how you seemed aware of everything around you, your supreme confidence despite having no cultivation..."
The stranger attempted to close the distance, hoping to force close-quarters combat where Cang's ranged techniques would be less effective. But the core formation cultivator had learned from their earlier exchanges. The ground itself became a weapon, shifting and buckling to keep the stranger at range while more shadow-wrapped stones filled the air like a deadly swarm.
"I knew what you were the moment I heard you admit you walked out of processing," Cang continued, his voice rising with fervor. "The Worldbreaker, come again to shatter everything we've built. The sects were fools to ignore the signs!"
Through the haze of pain, the stranger felt something stir within him—like a sleeping dragon slowly waking. The same power that had manifested during the beast surge whispered at the edges of his consciousness. He reached for it, trying to form the rune that had saved Yuechuang.
But Cang felt the gathering energy. With a roar of effort, he threw off the Leash's constraints completely. The stranger watched in horror as the core formation cultivator's meridians ruptured, spiritual pathways collapsing as he forced his full power through the control formation. The backlash should have killed him—would have killed anyone else. But Cang's madness and determination kept him standing.
The price of Cang's freedom was immediately apparent. Blood trickled from his eyes and ears as his qi went wild, power surging through damaged meridians with devastating force. But his techniques, no longer held back by the Leash, reached a new level of lethality.
The stranger's attempt at forming the sigil shattered as a wave of earth qi slammed into him. He felt bones crack, organs rupture. Even as his body tried to heal, Cang's follow-up strikes gave him no chance to recover. Shadow-wrapped stones tore through muscle and shattered more bones while the ground beneath him transformed into razor-sharp spikes.
It's not about how hard you hit, but how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, he reminded himself, Rocky Balboa's words echoing through his mind as he struggled to rise. But philosophy wouldn't stop Cang's assault.
"You can't imagine what I've sacrificed for this moment," Cang snarled, blood now flowing freely from his nose and mouth. His qi patterns were collapsing, burning out like stars going nova. The stranger couldn't help but think of Darth Vader's final moments—another powerful warrior destroying himself in pursuit of prophecy. Cang wouldn't survive much longer—but he didn't need to. Just long enough to finish this.
The stranger thought of his plans from just hours ago—his determination to face his fears, to escape into the forbidden zone, to discover who he truly was. Now those dreams crumbled like the stones around him. His body, for all its remarkable healing, couldn't keep up with the devastation Cang was inflicting. Through his awareness, he could feel his own qi networks starting to fail.
He slumped to his knees, blood pooling beneath him. Just a minute or two more and Cang will collapse from the spiritual damage of breaking the Leash. I just need to survive... But survival seemed impossible now. Maybe I'll fare better in my next life, as his thoughts turned to despair.
Yet even as he resigned himself to death, he felt something approaching—a familiar presence moving through stone and earth with determined purpose. And within him, a resolve—an intent—began to awaken from its slumber.
Cang gathered power for what they both knew would be his final attack. Earth and shadow qi swirled together in lethal harmony, more power than even any foundation cultivator could hope to survive. "Die knowing you were discovered," he rasped, "die knowing your plans have failed." His eyes blazed with fanatical purpose, a man willing to destroy himself to complete his mission.
The stranger tried one last time to form the runemark, but his hands trembled. As Cang's technique rushed toward him, the stranger met Cang's determined gaze, and that awakened resolve grew within him. With a surge of will that transcended his broken body, he struggled to his feet, his own eyes igniting with a matching intensity.
"NO!" The word tore from his throat, carrying power beyond mere sound. Reality itself seemed to hesitate, freezing Cang in a moment—
Then the ground behind Cang erupted.
The Deep Delver burst through the stone like it was water, massive claws already sweeping toward Cang. The core formation cultivator tried to redirect his attack, but his ruined meridians couldn't respond fast enough. Razor-sharp claws tore through his defenses—and through him.
The stranger watched through fading vision as Cang's body hit the far wall with devastating force. The core formation cultivator tried to rise, gathering what remained of his qi, but the Deep Delver was already moving. This time, the claws didn't just strike—they ended things permanently.
As Cang's broken body slumped to the ground, the Deep Delver turned toward the stranger. Through his enhanced senses, he recognized it—the same one he'd helped during the beast surge, its distinctive scarring unmistakable. The creature moved closer, its massive form blocking the tunnel entrance.
The stranger tried to push himself up, but his body wouldn't respond. Too much damage, too quickly. Even his remarkable healing couldn't keep up with injuries of this magnitude. His vision began to darken at the edges as the Deep Delver loomed over him.
The last thing he saw was the creature reaching for him with surprising gentleness. Then darkness claimed him completely.
As consciousness returned, the stranger felt liquid pouring between his lips. The moment it touched his tongue, elemental fire exploded through his body. Every cell screamed as the substance traced burning paths through his meridians, his blood vessels, even his bone marrow. It was like being remade from the inside out, each atom torn apart and forged anew in purifying flames.
Time lost all meaning. It could have been minutes or millennia as the fire worked through him. Where it touched, corruption fled—black oil seeping from his pores, carrying impurities he hadn't even known existed. The scent was familiar from his cultivation sessions, but far more potent. This wasn't just purification—it was transformation.
The pain transcended normal boundaries, becoming almost a meditation in itself. He watched in fascinated detachment as the fire rebuilt him. Shattered bones knit together stronger than before. Torn muscles rewove themselves with perfect precision. Even his damaged meridians and spiritual pathways reformed, purer and more efficient than ever.
Finally, after what felt like lifetimes compressed into moments, the fire faded. The stranger drew a deep breath, marveling at how even the lingering ache in his dantians from the absorbed tainted energy had vanished. He was more than healed—he was renewed. He sat up.
The Deep Delver still crouched nearby, watching him with those intelligent eyes. Then, impossibly, words formed directly in the stranger's mind:
*Greetings, Ancient One. We are prepared to lead you to safety.*
