The Feng ming Mountains were a land where the spirit of nature flowed freely. From flame-antlered deer to cloud squirrels, everything carried a touch of legend. As they ascended, Lingyun and Huo Li encountered these spirit beasts time and again—creatures that vanished effortlessly into the mountain mist or peered at them through dew-laden leaves.
At last, they climbed so high that the city of Feng ming below looked like an ink painting on an ancient scroll. Lingyun sat beneath the shade of a tree, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. The crisp mountain air was laced with the scent of earth and wild herbs.
Huo Li, however, collapsed onto the ground, exhausted. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he stared up at the drifting clouds, his breath still uneven. His thoughts were a tangled mess.
"Had the young master figured it out?"
But there was no way to be sure.
Just then, Lingyun reached a hand toward the sky and softly recited a poem. His voice was gentle and melodic, like the wind rustling through willow branches. Huo Li, who had served him for years, had never seen this side of him before. For a moment, doubt crept into his heart.
Was this truly the same young master he had always known?
Lingyun noticed his hesitant gaze and offered a faint smile.
"Something on your mind, Huo Li?"
Huo Li hesitated before finally asking, "Young Master... what exactly is your plan? Now that we're trapped, and with the Patriarch of Feng soon emerging from seclusion, doesn't this mean it's over for us?"
Lingyun chuckled. So this was what troubled a mere servant?
"For now we're going to Phoenix Valley."
Still puzzled by his master's composure, Huli frowned. "Phoenix Valley? Why there?"
"Because that's where it all begins." Lingyun stood, dusting off his robes, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "Like the phoenix, we must rise from the ashes of this defeat. And there's no better place for that than Phoenix Valley. I can feel it—the phoenix is calling to me... Hahaha!"
Huo Li kept his eyes on his master, uncertainty still gnawing at him. But he had no choice but to follow.
Their journey continued. They passed by waterfalls that shimmered like silver under the moonlight, crossed deep ravines, and traversed ancient rope bridges that had stood for centuries. Narrow caves and treacherous, rocky paths did little to slow them down.
At last, after a long and arduous trek, they arrived.
The first cool breeze of Phoenix Valley brushed against Lingyun's face, and his eyes glimmered. The fire-aligned Qi in the air was incredibly dense. On either side of the valley, stone structures had been carved into the cliffs, their weathered surfaces covered in moss. Suspended bridges, worn by time, linked the valley's towering edges.
Deep within the valley, a narrow river flowed, its gentle current winding around a majestic statue of a phoenix in mid-flight. Beneath it lay a stone altar—a small, solitary platform, just large enough for one person to sit.
Lingyun whispered under his breath, "So this is it… Phoenix Valley."
Huo Li scanned their surroundings. "You can still feel traces of the Age of Prosperity here…"
But Lingyun gave no reply. His gaze remained fixed on the phoenix statue, as if something beyond mere stone lay hidden within.
"We need to go there." He extended a hand, pointing toward the statue. "Huo Li, go first."
Huo Li bowed his head and stepped forward. The suspension bridge before him creaked under the weight of the wind, its rotting ropes swaying like a spider's web in the misty night. Yet he did not hesitate. With firm strides, he pressed onward, walking toward an uncertain fate.
Beyond the bridge, they entered a labyrinth of corridors, their winding paths lined with ancient carvings. The walls were etched with depictions of early cultivation techniques—yet their depth surpassed ordinary understanding. It was as if only those destined for this knowledge could truly grasp its meaning.
Lingyun moved carefully along the walls, his eyes tracing every mysterious symbol, committing each line and curve to memory. The engravings illustrated the flow of fire-aligned Qi and the method of storing it within the central dantian.
He murmured, "The three dantians…"
Cultivators possessed three dantians within their bodies—one in the head, another in the chest, and the most vital of all, in the lower abdomen, where fire Qi was stored.
Lingyun was a master of demonic Qi, yet the path of righteous cultivators remained foreign to him. Demonic Qi was wild and dark, thriving in cursed lands steeped in the presence of vengeful spirits. But even that was merely one branch of the vast Demonic Dao—a path of suffering, where only the strongest survived.
At last, at the end of the corridors, Lingyun arrived at the base of the phoenix statue. The crystal-clear river flowed beneath it, making the sculpture appear as though it had been born from the very rock itself. With spiritual energy coursing through his body, he stepped lightly onto the water's surface, moving toward it in silence.
Huo Li remained at the riverbank, hands tucked into his sleeves, watching his master's every movement with quiet apprehension.
As Lingyun neared the statue, its breathtaking details made him hold his breath.
"How… how is this possible?"
Every feather of the phoenix was etched with intricate lines of ancient mantras, as if telling an untold story. Lingyun, who had once studied the history of the world in the Feng Palace's grand library, found a familiar question resurfacing in his mind:
"If the Demon Continent had emerged somewhere beyond the borders of the Eastern Continent, how different would the path of cultivation in this land have been?"
He stepped onto the stone platform beneath the statue, sat down, and closed his eyes, entering a meditative state.
In his mind, everything finally aligned. He could now focus on the technique inspired by the Feng Clan's methods, even drawing upon the long-lost secrets of fire cultivation.
A moment later, his eyes opened—and the world around him changed.
Fire Qi particles hung in the air like glowing crimson embers. He reached out to touch one, but the moment his fingers made contact, it flickered and vanished.
Lingyun held his breath. "Does this mean… the Dao's curse is still upon me?"
Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind—a voice that came from nowhere, yet from everywhere at once:
"The dead cannot cultivate."
Lingyun jolted upright, his awareness sharpening as he searched for the source of the voice. But there was no presence—only Huo Li, still standing at the riverbank, watching in silence.
Then, his gaze was drawn back to the phoenix statue. It remained unchanged, just as it had been before. But now… an immense Qi fluctuation swirled around it.
He took a step forward, his voice laced with restrained fury and disbelief.
"Who are you?"
A deep, resonant voice emerged from within the statue:
"I am the guardian spirit of this mountain."
For a fleeting moment, Lingyun felt a sense of relief. But doubt still gnawed at him.
"Are you… the legendary phoenix?"
The voice responded with an eerie calm:
"Not quite. I am what remains after the phoenix's death."
Lingyun felt his blood boil, his eyes darkening with rage.
"Liar! The phoenix never dies! Then who—what—are you really?!"
A low, amused laugh rumbled from within the statue.
And then, the Qi around them erupted into chaos.
The very air of the valley trembled as an overwhelming radiance engulfed everything. Lingyun narrowed his eyes, but the blinding brilliance was too intense—his vision failed him.
And then—silence.
As the afterglow of the explosion faded, he saw a woman standing before him.
She was dressed in crimson, her robes flowing like flames dancing in the wind. Her long, wavy hair was pinned up with a jade hairpin. Her figure was delicate yet refined, her face pale as snow, adorned with bold strokes of fiery red on her cheeks and lips—an unmistakable reflection of the phoenix's essence.
Lingyun studied her with an expression devoid of surprise. "So, you truly are a remnant… a legacy."
The woman offered a calm smile and bowed slightly with a grace that carried an air of antiquity. "Your Excellency, may I ask why a divine being such as yourself wanders through this insignificant realm?"
Lingyun's eyes narrowed slightly. "So, you can see my soul?"
The Phoenix's Legacy shook her head gently. "No, but I can sense something… an aura that does not belong to this world."
Then, with a sudden snap of her fingers—
Silence.
The river's murmuring ceased. The wind stopped whispering. Even the rustling of leaves fell into an eerie stillness.
"I believe this conversation should not be overheard."
Her voice was soft, but there was weight to her words. She took a step closer.
"Your Excellency... who are you?"
Lingyun cast her a cold glance. "I am… a fallen immortal."
The woman circled around him slowly, like a bird sizing up its prey. Her eyes gleamed, as if she had stumbled upon something—something she shouldn't have.
Then, suddenly, all color drained from her face.
She took a shaky step back, retreating behind the phoenix statue.
"M-My lord! Your karma… it's monstrous!"
Terror flickered in her gaze. "What law did you defy to be burdened with such immense karma?!"
Her voice trembled. "Even if you had slaughtered thousands—no, even if you had wiped out entire bloodlines—this… this level of karma should be impossible!"
Lingyun smirked, the corner of his lips curling in amusement. "You exaggerate."
But the Phoenix's Legacy shook her head violently. "No, my lord! This is not the kind of karma that comes from mere massacres or genocide. This… this is a curse of a magnitude that only a true demon could bear!"
For the first time, a flicker of intrigue crossed Lingyun's expression. "Interesting… Then tell me, what kind of demon do you think I was?"
The woman, now more akin to a frightened bird than the regal entity she had been moments before, cast him an unsteady glance and whispered:
"When I was alive, I often heard wandering spirits speak of a realm beyond this world—"
"A place beyond mortal comprehension, where beings exist that can drown entire continents with a single gaze."
Her gaze deepened, as though piecing together an ancient riddle. "They spoke of demons that once dwelled upon a mountain known as the 'Demon Peak.' But after a great battle, that mountain vanished from existence."
Then, as if the final piece had fallen into place, she whispered in quiet disbelief:
"I think... you were one of the demons of that mountain, weren't you?"