Lu Feng stood on the edge of his sword, soaring above the dense forest canopy, the wind whipping his hair as the trees below became an emerald blur. The sun cast a warm glow over the landscape, illuminating verdant leaves and stretching shadows across the forest floor. Ancient pines and towering oaks reached skyward, their branches swaying in a silent, primordial dance that had continued for millennia.

  Even though he couldn't see any human settlements within eyesight, if he squinted really hard, he could faintly discern the outline of a city on the horizon—a silhouette that hinted at the possibility of a bustling metropolis.

  "...Well, it's either that or I have cataract," Lu Feng mused, hastening his pace by leaning forward. The sword responded eagerly, as if sharing his anticipation, propelling him forward with a gentle hum that resonated through his bones. The motion sent ripples through the air as he pierced the sky, leaving behind a subtle trail of dispersed qi that dissipated like morning dew.

  As the contents of the ring kept appearing in Lu Feng's mind, he couldn't help but smirk and grin like an idiot, the sheer wealth at his fingertips intoxicating. This young master's Halo was indeed too bright. The piles of spirit crystals—enough to make a sect elder weep with envy—gleamed in his mind's eye. Chests full of various pills, their medicinal fragrances almost tangible even in memory; amulets humming with latent potential; weapons forged from metals unknown to ordinary craftsmen; and a wardrobe full of luxurious clothes and accessories that would make even the most extravagant immortal embarrassed by comparison. This young master was rich beyond measure, and the thought was almost dizzying.

  "Too bad for him though..." Lu Feng clicked his tongue in pity, a pang of sympathy for the young master whose life he had inherited. The original owner of this body would never again feel the weight of spirit crystals in his palm, nor taste the bitter-sweet nectar of cultivation elixirs. "Your sacrifice shall not be in vain," he whispered, his words carried away by the rushing wind.

  Two days later, as the sun started to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the landscape, Lu Feng perched on a tree branch, quenching his thirst with large gulps of water collected from a nearby stream in a jade gourd. The water, pure and sweet, carried the essence of the mountains, refreshing his spirit as it cooled his throat. Even though his breathing technique offset his spiritual energy expenditure—the intricate patterns of inhalation and exhalation sustaining his qi—it nonetheless made him hungry, a mundane reminder of his mortal shell. Unfortunately, he was out of rations, and he didn't feel like wasting time foraging or hunting.

  He sighed to himself, patting his stomach as it gave a disgruntled growl.

  As he traveled incessantly for the last two days, covering leagues with each passing hour, the vague outline of the city grew larger in his field of vision, its silhouette sharpening into focus like a painting being revealed stroke by stroke. He was now sure it was a city, and a large one—perhaps a provincial capital or a cultivation hub—but a thin layer of mist in the distance obscured the details. Lu Feng figured it was some sort of barrier isolating the city and the forest.

  The moonlight reflecting off the sword brought Lu Feng back to his senses, illuminating the intricate patterns etched into the blade—celestial diagrams and arcane symbols that spoke of power and mastery. As he inspected the sword in his hand, turning it to catch the silvery light, the workmanship and top-tier quality were undeniably apparent, a masterpiece of craftsmanship that seemed to hum with an inner power. Even though there were many swords to choose from in his ring—weapons adorned with precious gems and inscribed with powerful formations—this was the only sword without excessive embellishments, its simplicity a testament to its elegance, like a scholar who needs no fancy garments to display his wisdom.

  "You and I shall walk a long path together," he whispered to the blade, feeling a resonance as if the sword understood his words, the metal warming slightly under his touch.

  Lost in thought again, Lu Feng began to wonder what he should do in this last and final life of his. The weight of mortality settled upon him, a somber reminder that this was his last chance, the final verse in the epic poem of his existence. 'Last and final life... Haha, once I die, maybe my soul will dissipate into nothingness, scattered like dust in the cosmic wind.' The thought sent a shiver down his spine, a chill that penetrated the marrow where cultivation energy dwelled.

  "Is this how normal people feel about death?" he wondered aloud, his voice small against the vastness of the night. "This constant awareness of the end? No wonder they fear it so."

  Lu Feng, who had experienced countless millennia across all his lives, never had to fear death—not until now.

  Deciding not to scare himself with existential dread—a path that led only to despair—Lu Feng abandoned that train of thought. He began to consider what he should do in earnest, his mind racing with possibilities, each path branching into a thousand more.

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  Exploration? The world was vast and filled with wonders—hidden valleys where dragons slumbered, ancient ruins pulsing with forgotten magic, caves that led to places where primordial beasts still roamed. The thought of discovering such marvels made his heart race with anticipation.

  Become a peerless expert? The pinnacle of strength, a name that would make emperors tremble and immortals show respect. Even though Lu Feng had several times in his past lives become a top-tier expert, he was never truly peerless, never reached that mythical realm where a single thought could upend the nine realms. The thought of one day achieving such power was intoxicating.

  "To stand above all others," he whispered, the words tasting sweet on his tongue. "To look down upon the world and see it as a mere chessboard..."

  Become an Ascetic? There was no point in hiding from the world like a hermit, contemplating existence while life continued without him. He had to fear death now, respect it, but not let this fear control him. This was his last chance to figuratively yell a cheesy "My time has come!!"

  "Life is to be lived, not observed," he declared to the night, his voice firm with conviction.

  Peaceful mortal life? The memory of the lunatic youth who enslaved him in his 7th life—a memory that still burned in his mind—extinguished any thoughts of a peaceful mortal existence. The youth had captured him for sport, treating him as a plaything to be tormented for amusement. The humiliation, the helplessness... No, he would never allow himself to be so vulnerable again.

  This was a world of cultivation, where the strong preyed on the weak, where power was the only currency that truly mattered. If he chose to be a powerless mortal, he could only wait to be killed by any random display of power from an expert, his life snuffed out with less concern than swatting a fly.

  '...I have a vague feeling this young man's past would also not allow for an uneventful life in the first place...' The thought was almost prophetic, a warning whispered by instincts honed through eight lifetimes. His destiny was intertwined with greatness, for better or worse, and attempting to escape it would be like trying to outrun one's shadow.

  Maybe join a sect and rise from underdog to beloved senior brother? The classic tale of the phoenix rising from ashes, the hidden dragon revealing its might. 'Absolutely not,' Lu Feng was tired of playing the underdog, which he was for a long, long time—chasing rumors, participating in tournaments, risking everything for scraps of treasure.

  'It would be fun though...' To test his skills against proud young masters and arrogant princesses, to see their expressions change from disdain to shock to fear as he revealed his true strength. The drama, the satisfaction in proving oneself against all odds—there was a certain appeal to it.

  "This young man is quite rich; I have sufficient capital to start my own venture..." Lu Feng mused, stroking the spatial ring on his finger, feeling the connection to the treasures within. "If I have enough wealth, I can carve a slice of my own in this world..." His voice trailed off as he contemplated the possibilities. With such resources, he could establish his own sect, build a network of informants, hire cultivators, create a power base that would rival ancient families and established sects.

  "Even though I have yet to see how the system will award points and upgrades, judging from the pace and the fact that I don't have to complete missions, I likely don't have to worry about cultivation..." His brow furrowed in thought, lips pursed as he considered the implications. "Iris always teased me about the unlimited potential of the system I could enjoy once I complete the tasks... Guess I'll have to wait for it to be unveiled, like a bride on her wedding night."

  Beep.

  The sound, though soft, jerked him from his reverie, his heart skipping a beat in surprise. 'Did I really unlock something!? System'

  Secret Achievement Unlocked:

  Lonely Lumberjack - Spend 7 days in the forest, alone.

  Reward: System Space. Processing. ETA 24 Hours.

  Lu Feng was surprised, his eyes widening as he stared at the notification hovering in his mental space, the blue text pulsing gently. 'System Space? Wasn't this where the system stored its loot? And what's with the secret achievement, seven days in a forest? I'm absolutely sure I've done this before countless times... Does the system just make up rewards whenever it feels like it?'

  He squinted suspiciously at the notification, trying to discern some hidden trick or trap. The system had never been straightforward, always playing games, setting up elaborate scenarios only to pull the rug from under him at crucial moments. It was like a capricious child with godlike power, unpredictable and potentially dangerous.

  "With Iris gone, maybe it will just be a breeze," he muttered.

  Seeing the reward was still processing, Lu Feng set this curiosity aside, his mind returning to possibilities for his future. 'I will decide what to do once I know more about this world,' he concluded, wisdom born from eight lifetimes tempering his eagerness.

  Looking at the silhouette of the city in the distance, its outline now more defined against the night sky, Lu Feng estimated he would have to travel just half a day before he could get past the mist and have a clear view of the city—to see its walls and towers, its streets and squares, to gauge its wealth and power, to determine if it was a place where he could begin his new life or merely a stepping stone to greater destinations.

  "Tomorrow," he promised himself, the word a vow and a comfort.

  Settling these thoughts, Lu Feng closed his eyes, his consciousness retreating as he entered a meditative state. The sounds of the forest—the rustle of leaves, the distant call of night creatures, the soft murmur of the stream—formed a natural lullaby that soothed his spirit. Gradually, he felt himself slipping deeper, beyond meditation into true sleep, his body rejuvenating as his mind wandered through dreams of power and glory, of cities built in his name and enemies acknowledging his might.

  The sword lay beside him, gleaming in the moonlight, a silent guardian watching over its master as the stars wheeled overhead, marking the passage of time in their celestial dance, indifferent to the ambitions of mortals and immortals alike.