Chapter Ten: An Encounter in the Cavern and Return to Flame Village

Millennium Cold Pool—this is merely its common name, for it bears a far more terrifying origin. A thousand years ago, this place was a field of carnage, a battlefield of Asuras. The denizens of the Underworld beneath the earth wished to pierce through here and ascend to the world above. The ancient humans of a millennium past could only fight with all their might. In the end, they managed to seal the people of the Underworld beneath this vast cavern.

Yet, from ancient times to the present, the Underworld’s denizens have never ceased scheming to break through. If not for a certain mighty being who suppressed the entrance with his own body, perhaps the Underworld’s people would have long since invaded the upper world, and the peace of the past thousand years would never have existed.

However, as the seal gradually weakens, the body of that great one is riddled with wounds, barely holding together. It is likely that within a year, the Underworld’s forces will shatter the seal. Such history has faded into oblivion over the centuries. Now, people only know to cultivate and pursue immortality, unaware that the world’s current conditions are gifts from the ancients. Otherwise, how could there be a thousand years of resources for the upper world to enjoy?

At this moment, Fire Qilin and Little Qing were walking through the dark, profound cave, equally ignorant of the Cold Pool’s origins.

As they advanced, the atmosphere grew increasingly ominous. The temperature in the cavern began to rise, and beneath their feet, skeletal remains appeared in growing numbers. If it weren’t for the faint light ahead, they would not have realized the ground was so strewn with chaos.

Every few steps, a corpse lay at their feet, bodies covered in moss, much like the ancestors they’d once buried—almost intact, yet the bones refused to decay.

They had never witnessed such a scene before. Stepping carefully over the bodies, they moved toward the light. This was a place full of peril; they needed to leave quickly.

Such was their shared thought—the strangeness of this place made it unfit for lingering.

Yet, one corpse in particular drew their attention.

This body was unlike the others sprawled on the ground; it sat cross-legged atop a mound. A sword lay beside it. Its head had long vanished, and the tattered clothing hung in shreds, the body riddled with wounds—so battered it evoked a strange pang of pity.

Curiosity flared in Fire Qilin. He reached out to touch the sword, only to be instantly cut by its sharp edge, blood spurting forth.

Hurriedly, he channeled his inner core, circulating spiritual energy to heal his injury.

But just then, an unexpected event occurred.

Before Fire Qilin and Little Qing, the sword seemed to come alive, transforming from a poised blade into a swaddled infant—adorable beyond words, yet the scene was unspeakably eerie.

For a moment, the two stared at the child, unsure what to do.

Fire Qilin asked, “What now?”

He looked to Little Qing for an answer.

Little Qing considered, then made a decision.

No matter the origins of this child, they could not simply abandon it; such was not the way of the people of Flaming Fire Village.

So Fire Qilin tore some cloth from one of the corpses, fashioned a sling, and bound the infant to himself. They continued toward the light, gathering useful items from the bodies as they went—mostly spatial pouches and a miscellany of strange weapons and armor.

Most of it was damaged, but even so, in a moment of crisis, a single use could mean the difference between life and death—at the very least, their journey ahead would be safer for it. In this way, they indirectly protected themselves.

As the saying goes, “Great fortune follows those who survive disaster”—a fitting description of their current state.

The light drew ever closer, and at last Fire Qilin and Little Qing found hope.

Approaching, they discovered the source of the light was a cave opening leading up to the surface.

The hole was neither too wide nor too narrow, just large enough for a child to pass through.

In the next instant, Little Qing reverted to her true form and nestled into Fire Qilin’s arms.

Carrying her, Fire Qilin leapt toward the opening. The passage narrowed upwards, becoming so tight that even he could barely squeeze through. But as a cultivator, such a minor challenge could not stop him.

He jumped down, braced himself on the cavern floor, and then, with a powerful leap, smashed through the opening headfirst.

Without incident, they broke through to the surface and breathed fresh air for the first time in ages.

It felt as though they hadn’t seen the sun in a lifetime. Fire Qilin gazed at the sun, unable to resist looking a little longer despite the brilliance that forced his eyes shut.

After a while, Little Qing transformed into human shape, standing before Fire Qilin to speak.

“Brother, when did your pearl turn black?”

“How could—what’s going on?” Fire Qilin replied.

Unbeknownst to them, the pearl had already surrendered its primordial spirit energy to the infant.

The child had forcibly absorbed the energy, leaving the Four Souls Pearl instantly dim and lifeless. Without that, the sword could not have so swiftly transformed and been reborn as a child—it was all due to the Four Souls Pearl.

But now, the pearl was utterly spent, its stored primordial power completely drained. This was no gentle nurturing as it had been with Little Qing, but a forced extraction by a powerful being, using the energy to turn an embryo into a sword spirit with consciousness.

Now, like Little Qing, it retained no memories—only the awareness of a sword spirit.

Unless some fated encounter awakened their past, both Little Qing and the sword spirit would remain as they were, living out their lives until death or ascension.

Fate gives as it wills; what is not meant to be cannot be forced.

All depended on their destiny—such matters are beyond prediction, as good and ill can shift in a single thought, beyond mortal control.

Fire Qilin stared at the Four Souls Pearl for a while, but soon let it go. It was merely a change in color, not a shattered pearl. If it had been destroyed, then he would be truly helpless.

At present, his first task was to settle the child. Second, given all that had happened, he could only return to Flaming Fire Village, entrust the infant to the village chief, and seek answers about the pearl.

He would also deliver the treasures he’d gathered to the clan, so his people could better protect themselves.

Thus, Fire Qilin and Little Qing set out for Flaming Fire Village. As for seeking a master and the path of cultivation, a few days’ delay was of no consequence—as long as, in the end, he and Little Qing could reach the Pavilion of Freedom.

Several nights later, Fire Qilin and Little Qing arrived at the new site of Flaming Fire Village. Along the way, when confronted by high-level beasts, they fought if they could, hid if they couldn’t, even discarding tattered armor if need be to save their lives.

Fortunately, they did not encounter many such creatures. Otherwise, even with their elders’ treasures, it would have been futile. By the time they reached the village, they had lost a third of their belongings. Had they faced a few young ancient beasts, like a Pixiu or its ilk, their survival would have been impossible.

The young of such fiends were no joke—a single roar could leave Fire Qilin and Little Qing’s ears bleeding, much less a direct attack, which would have spelled their end.

Upon their return, the whole village rejoiced. Yet, there were still many who scolded Fire Qilin, warning him of the dangers outside. Most advised him to give up on seeking a master—who could say what sudden calamity might await? To die before one’s journey even began—what use was learning, or seeking the Dao, or aspiring to immortality?

Only Chief Huo Yun remained silent. He knew well the perils of the outside world, but since it was the request of a certain esteemed expert, and Fire Qilin had willingly chosen this path, he could only let him go forth. This was the road Fire Qilin had chosen; all the chief could do was support him.

He was an old man, aged and burdened with the responsibility of protecting many. He could not—would not—leave.

But Fire Qilin was different. His talent was not extraordinary, but he was clever from a young age, quick to learn anything—a rare gift.

If the chief did not push him forward, Fire Qilin might have spent his life in obscurity, fading away in the village.

That was something the chief could not bear to see. So, hardening his heart, he sent the boy he’d watched grow up out into the world.

After a brief reunion, Fire Qilin returned to his mother’s arms, savoring the finest meal of his memories—a feast he knew he might not taste again for a long time.

He planned to set out the next day, resting for just one night.

At dawn, he rose early and roused Little Qing.

After some preparation, he bade his mother farewell and set off with Little Qing to continue their journey of seeking a master and adventure.

They left without disturbing anyone, pausing only at the village entrance to look back once before resolutely heading onward.

This time, they avoided the route through Xuanlin City, choosing instead a slightly longer path.

A few days later, they halted and took shelter in the first village they encountered.

Ahead lay a small settlement called Longwind Village, home only to ordinary folk, with fewer than a hundred households.

This village was unwelcoming to outsiders. When Fire Qilin and Little Qing appeared, doors shut tight, and the villagers refused all contact.

“What’s going on?” Fire Qilin wondered.

“Brother, have you noticed—there’s no trace of cultivators here,” said Little Qing.

Fire Qilin nodded—he’d noticed, too. But wasn’t it normal for a village of ordinary people to lack cultivators?

Was Little Qing being overly cautious, or was there something truly amiss? She couldn’t shake her suspicion.

Fire Qilin, unconcerned, wandered over to a well and drank heartily from it, utterly carefree.