Cultivation Nerd-Chapter 325 - A Time Long Gone

Ye An descended gracefully through a mist, her robes trailing like flowing ice. With her Qi wrapped around them, she lowered my two disciples and the masked elder as if they were weightless. The three touched the ground gently, cushioned by the shimmering frost that lingered in her aura. Even in something as simple as carrying others, she made it look damn elegant.

Song Song snorted, clearly disapproving and mocking her methods without directly saying it.

“Okay, let’s get to looking for weird things,” I said, clapping my hands to draw everyone’s attention before they started doing something unsavory.

I formed a golden array, shaping it into a perfect sphere that hovered above us like a miniature sun. Its glow spread evenly across the ravine, pushing back the shadows and painting the stone walls in warm light.

The illumination revealed the ground in unpleasant detail, showing the slick, half-rotted remains of beasts long dead, scraps of bone jutting from congealed muck, and stains smeared across the stone. Each step squelched faintly, the sound magnified now that we could see what we were walking on.

The half-human, half-spider hybrids stirred at last. Their many eyes glinted in the golden light, and one by one their heads snapped toward us, mandibles twitching as guttural hisses rattled from their distorted throats.

Long, jointed limbs clattered against the stone as they crept forward, jerky and inhuman. The stench of rot followed them, thick and sour, as though the air itself recoiled. Then, deciding we were prey worth hunting, they surged toward us in a grotesque wave of skittering legs and humanlike snarls.

“Do you mind if I deal with these?” Song San asked.

“You can do whatever you want with them,” I said.

Thick ropes of Qi lashed from his palm, snaring the two dozen hybrids rushing us. They thrashed violently, but the bindings dug deep into their twisted flesh.

A creepy glint flickered in Song San’s eyes. Though his mask hid his expression, I could easily imagine the disturbing smile behind it as he tightened his grip on the beasts.

While he focused entirely on his task, I turned my attention to the ravine walls. My gaze traced every crack and jagged line, searching for anything out of place. The golden array’s light revealed faint carvings beneath the grime. At first they looked like scratches, but the longer I stared, the more deliberate they seemed, like patterns etched so faintly it was as though the stone itself wanted to hide them.

Huh. Did these spider-beasts have a way of communicating with each other?

There were likely hidden layers here. Excavating them would take days, maybe weeks, and we couldn’t risk collapsing the ravine on ourselves.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jiang Yeming. Unlike the others, she wasn’t paying attention to Song San, an odd choice given the grotesque display. Instead, she blended into the background, moving casually as if she didn’t want to be noticed.

Her gaze kept drifting toward one specific corner of the ravine. Step by step, she edged closer, brushing her fingers along the wall as if idly testing the stone.

That was suspicious as hell. Completely ignoring Song San at such a moment was enough to raise alarms in my head.

Feigning disinterest, I mirrored her movements, examining the walls while keeping her in my peripheral vision.

And then it happened.

Jiang Yeming reached the shadowed section of the wall, pressed her palm against it, and vanished. The stone rippled like disturbed water, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

The wall wasn’t real. It was an illusion.

I pressed my palm against the spot where she had disappeared. Solid, unyielding stone met my touch. No ripple, no distortion, no hint of the illusion I had seen.

So it wasn't an illusion?

I closed my eyes, extending my senses. Qi spread from me like threads searching for disturbance. Nothing. No trace of her. As though the wall itself had swallowed her whole.

Frowning, I pushed further, probing with mental waves instead of Qi. If she were still nearby, I should have felt the faintest flicker of thought. But there was nothing, not even the slightest ripple.

Either the creator of this place had woven layers of countermeasures to foil every sense… or Jiang Yeming had been transported elsewhere entirely.

Either way, it was bound to be something very interesting.

******

Jiang Yeming glanced around the dusty chamber, her nose instinctively scrunching. The heavy odor of mold and rotting wood clung to the air, thick enough to tighten her throat. Each breath carried the taste of decay.

The room looked like a forgotten office or study. At its center stood a warped wooden desk, and resting atop it lay a silver sword. Against one wall, a crooked shelf sagged beneath the weight of books, their spines cracked and pages swollen with damp. In the far corner, a tall mirror stood there, its surface fogged and reflecting the room through a haze of dust.

Her eyes shifted again and caught on another table pushed against the wall. Upon it lay a humanoid skeleton, bones yellowed and brittle, ribs curled inward as if the body had once died in agony. A shroud of dust softened the edges of the macabre scene.

Who would go to such lengths to hide something like this?

If not for sensory techniques developed in the future, ones designed to detect spatial disruptions, she never would have found the place. Even then, the wall had required a precise touch sequence to trigger the warp system.

Her gaze drifted back to the silver sword on the desk. Unlike everything else, it was untouched by time. No dust marred its blade, and its polished surface gleamed faintly under the dim light, as though an enchantment kept it clean, sharp, and waiting. The sight stirred something in her memory.

That sword… it felt familiar. Where had she seen it before?

Jiang Yeming frowned, scanning the chamber again but finding nothing to explain the familiarity. Finally, her eyes settled on the mirror. Dust dulled its surface, muting the reflection, yet the longer she stared, the more it drew her in.

She stepped forward, each footfall echoing in the silence, and reached out. Her hand dragged across the glass, leaving a streak of clarity. She expected to see her own face staring back.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

But what she saw froze her.

The mirror reflected the room, the shelves, the sword, and the skeletal remains. Every detail was there.

Except her.

Her reflection was absent.

Oh! This was the Silver Road Mirror!

Jiang Yeming’s breath caught, her pulse quickening. Of all places… was this where Liu Feng had found it?

In her last life, the Silver Road Mirror had been one of his treasures, its origins a mystery. She had assumed he discovered it in some ancient ruin or through some impossible twist of fate. Never had she imagined it would surface here, in a half-rotted chamber, during a mundane expedition.

Her lips parted, but no words came. She had witnessed many strange things since her regression, but this was different. This mirror wasn’t just another artifact; it was a keystone in Liu Feng’s future. To see it now made her wonder what other secrets she might unravel simply by following that guy.

So, unlike his admirers once believed, Liu Feng hadn’t made this himself.

Her gaze shifted back to the table, back to the silver sword.

Now it made sense.

She stepped forward and closed her fingers around the hilt. The blade felt unnervingly cold, the chill sinking into her bones. Its surface shone with such perfection that a faint, pale reflection of her face stared back.

Turning, she approached the mirror. She stopped where she had cleared the dust and leveled the sword at the glass. Slowly, she pressed the tip forward.

The surface rippled, swallowing the blade bit by bit. It was like plunging steel into liquid mercury. The glass bent, giving way without resistance.

When the blade sank up to its handle, she twisted it like a key, and a clicking sound rang out.

The mirror shifted, swirled and turned pitch-black, swallowing its own reflection until only darkness remained. Then the air hummed like a distant bell tolling. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, letting the black surface engulf her.

That familiar emptiness swept over her, the hollow sensation of stepping through space itself. Then, in the next heartbeat, her feet touched solid ground.

Jiang Yeming stood in a dark forest. The silence was deafening. No crickets, no owls, not even the whisper of wind. The air felt stagnant, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

Above stretched a starry sky. At first glance, it glittered beautifully. But the longer she stared, the stranger it became. There was no moon, no shifting constellations, and only tiny specks of light hovering above the clouds. Like glitter scattered on glass, giving the illusion of stars without being real.

The space was vast, stretching endlessly as she saw some mountains in the distance, yet she sensed its boundaries. The mountains were just an illusion. This place was big, yes, but not infinite.

Her brows furrowed. This wasn’t how she remembered it.

The structure had changed, the space altered.

But of course it had. Liu Feng had touched this place, reshaped it with his arrays. He was an array conjurer, after all. And whoever created the Silver Road Mirror must have been both an array master and an artificer of terrifying skill, one who could bend space itself and bind it into an artifact.

This was far beyond a mere storage ring.

She exhaled slowly and slipped the silver sword into her storage ring. Losing it or worse, breaking it, would be catastrophic. That much she knew, even if this place was no longer what she remembered.

The sword was the key.

Still, excitement stirred in her chest at the thought of what was about to unfold.

What had been here when Liu Feng first obtained it? There had to be some kind of inheritance!

But that thought froze midstream as Jiang Yeming’s instincts screamed. Her pulse quickened, the hair on her neck bristled, and a chill ran down her spine.

Centuries of battle-honed reflexes moved before her mind did. Her hands clapped together, Qi flaring.

Azure Shield Technique!

A translucent barrier burst around her, just in time.

Clang!

Metal rang as something slammed into the shield. She spun, eyes widening.

A spider the size of a carriage loomed behind her, grotesque pincers grinding sparks against her defense. Venom dripped from snapping fangs, eager to pierce her through.

The beast blended into the shadows unnaturally well, its Qi suppressed so thoroughly it was nearly invisible to her senses. Of course, it was in its habitat. It had evolved here, instinctively adapting to emulate the surrounding Qi.

Dangerous.

Her thoughts flicked to the future: another inventor, opposite in personality to Liu Feng, who would create this same technique for humans. A way to vanish from beasts in civilized lands.

But the memory soured her mood. Best to kill this thing now.

“For a creature at nothing more than the peak of Qi Gathering to annoy me this much…” she muttered. Irritation slipped through, but she reined it back with a sigh. She wasn’t that Nascent Soul powerhouse anymore. She couldn’t afford arrogance.

The spider had the home advantage with its stealth and terrain. Especially since it could likely jump around the trees. But that didn’t make it invincible.

She drew a knife from her storage ring. Its polished blade glinted in the dim light as her Azure Shield dissolved. With a sharp leap backward, she gained distance, blueish Qi wrapping the knife.

The beast hissed, mandibles clicking, and didn’t bother dodging. The knife struck, bouncing harmlessly off its thick exoskeleton. But the spider couldn't follow up on its attack.

The blade flared with azure light. Glowing lines burst outward, wrapping around the spider’s massive body, forming a shield around the spider. The creature shrieked, thrashing, but the shield clung tight, and it had trapped it in there for the time being.

A faint, wry smile curved Jiang Yeming’s lips.

So Liu Feng had stumbled on this earlier than she expected. Imbuing techniques into weapons wasn’t supposed to appear for decades. His version was crude and imperfect by future standards. But even crude, it worked.

Yet it was nothing impressive compared to the peak of said technique; delayed activation. A weapon carrying a technique long after being thrown, striking at the exact moment the wielder chose. Seamless control in combat.

He wasn’t there yet. But he was already on the path.

In the future, cultivator fights grew infinitely more complex. Monstrous beasts, no matter their natural advantage, often fell quickly. Fighting usually developed into a game of preparation and skill.

She pulled another weapon from her ring; it was a slender sword glowing faintly with green Qi. Weak, but enough to edge the blade. With steady breath, she lunged.

Her sword touched the azure barrier just as it sputtered and collapsed, its reserves spent. In the same motion, her strike carved clean through the spider’s body. The halves hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Jiang Yeming exhaled, chest rising and falling. Her Qi reserves pressed against her like iron bands. Even restrained swings drained her faster than she liked. The signature techniques of her future were still far beyond reach.

As she steadied herself, the forest shifted.

Between towering, unnatural trees, dozens of eyes glimmered. Their legs scraped against bark as more shapes emerged.

Her grip tightened. The spiders crawling forward were twisted, grotesque, their limbs bent wrong, torsos ridged with almost human-like lines.

They resembled the spider hybrids, the failed versions.

Could she take them? Yes. But not without wasting Qi. And wasting Qi in an unknown place was as good as suicide.

Besides, she couldn’t linger. This was originally Liu Feng’s discovery. She didn’t want to test how long it would take for him to notice.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, the swarm leapt.

Her sword spun in her hands, wind swirling along its length. She thrust forward like a rapier.

A tornado burst outward, ripping apart the front ranks, tearing a path open. Jiang Yeming charged behind the storm, everything else shredded in its wake.