Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World-Chapter 383- An Encounter in Forest

Tianlong cut through the sky like he owned it.

His hands were clasped behind his back, body relaxed, yet he moved fast—not teleporting, just flying. The wind tore past him but didn’t touch him, repelled by an invisible barrier of qi that wrapped around his form like a second skin.

He could’ve teleported directly to his women. Could’ve locked onto Akane’s nine-tailed signature or Yu Xiang’s butterfly essence and appeared beside them in an instant. But he didn’t.

"Let’s see what this place actually is," he muttered to himself, golden eyes scanning the landscape below.

Mountain ranges stretched out beneath him—black peaks jutting up like broken teeth, valleys filled with strange, twisted forests. The Ancient Realm. A prison dimension created by the Frost Wyrm Empress herself. A breeding ground. A cultivation accelerator. A world where time moved a hundred times faster than outside.

But something felt... off.

His gaze swept across the terrain. Mechanical flying objects—crude contraptions of metal and qi—floated at various altitudes.

But no cultivators flew freely through the air.

He saw figures leaping from peak to peak, using raw physical force to propel themselves hundreds of meters at a time. Body cultivators. Not qi cultivators.

"No keys," he said aloud, realization dawning.

The key signatures he normally sensed from qi cultivators—the concentrated cores of energy stored in dantians—were almost nonexistent here.

Instead, the people below radiated power from their entire bodies.

Every muscle fiber infused with qi. Every bone reinforced. These weren’t people storing power; they ’were’ power.

His mind wandered as he drifted lower, following the curve of a mountain range.

’What happens when you reach the pinnacle?’

The thought struck him unexpectedly. When you become so powerful that you can control an entire world. When you’re the absolute ruler, the domain master, the one who sets every law and watches every soul.

The answer came to him like a cold wind.

’You get bored.’

Bored out of your fucking mind.

There’s nothing left to conquer. No one to challenge you. No validation because there’s no one strong enough to even understand what you’ve achieved. You’re alone at the top, staring down at an empire that means nothing because you’ve already won.

He thought of the Frost Wyrm Empress. Locked away in this dimension she created. Holding absolute authority over space, time, life, death. Transforming dead souls into beastkin. Building an army over millennia.

And for what?

"She’s probably rotting away somewhere," Tianlong muttered, shaking his head. "Sitting in some throne room, bored as hell, with all that power and nothing to fucking do with it."

He’d rot away too if he ended up like that. Power without purpose was just a slow death.

His eyes caught movement below.

Deep within a forest clearing, figures darted through the trees. Fast. Agile. Leaping from branch to branch with primal grace.

Monkeys?

No.

He slowed his descent, eyes narrowing. His divine sense spread outward, scanning the figures below.

Not monkeys. Women.

Their bodies were lean, muscular, covered in minimal clothing—scraps of animal skin and woven leaves that barely covered their breasts and groins. Their movements were feral, instinctive, like predators stalking prey. Tribal. Primitive.

One of them stopped mid-leap, her head snapping upward. She’d sensed him.

Tianlong smiled.

"Well then."

He descended slowly, hands still clasped behind his back, his posture calm and unthreatening. The barrier around him shimmered faintly as he dropped through the canopy, leaves parting before him like water.

The moment his feet touched the ground—

’’WHOOSH!’’

A massive log, thick as a man’s torso, hurtled through the air toward his face.

It hit his qi barrier with a deafening ’’CRACK’’, exploding into splinters. Wood fragments rained down around him as he stood motionless, not even flinching.

Silence.

Then, voices. Murmurs from the trees. Hidden figures whispering to each other in a language that sounded rough, guttural, but understandable.

"Did it hit him?"

"No, idiot. He’s still standing."

"Wait... is that a ’man’?"

"What’s a man doing alone out here?"

"...doesn’t he look good?"

"Shut ’up’, Mira."

Tianlong’s smile widened. His divine sense pinpointed every single one of them. Twelve women. Hidden among the branches, crouched on thick limbs, bodies pressed flat against bark. But to him, they were as visible as if they stood in broad daylight.

"Come out," he called, his voice carrying easily through the forest. "Doesn’t your tribe teach you to welcome guests?"

More murmurs.

"He... he sensed us?"

"How?"

"His cultivation..."

"I can’t even read it."

Finally, movement. Four women dropped from the trees, landing in a crouch before rising to their feet. They approached cautiously, eyes locked on him, muscles taut and ready to flee—or fight.

Tianlong observed them with open curiosity.

Their outfits were exactly what he’d thought—primitive. Strips of animal hide wrapped around their waists like skirts, barely reaching mid-thigh. Their tops were scraps of woven leaves held together by thin vines, covering their breasts but leaving their midriffs completely bare. Toned abs. Scars. Tanned skin marked by sun and combat.

One of them—a woman with short black hair and sharp eyes—stepped forward. Her gaze traveled down his body, lingering for a moment on his chest, then lower.

Tianlong’s eyes, in turn, drifted downward. The thin strings holding her leaf-bra together looked... fragile. Stretched taut across her full breasts. One wrong move and—

Her eyes widened. She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"Are you in ’heat’?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

Tianlong chuckled, meeting her gaze without shame. "No. Was just patiently waiting for when that leaf bra would snap."

Her face flushed instantly. Red crept up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"Why... why am I feeling flushed at a man’s word?" she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

The other three women exchanged glances, confusion and curiosity mixing in their expressions.

The black-haired woman shook her head hard, as if trying to clear her thoughts. "Leave now," she said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You cannot enter here. This is our area."

"I can see that," Tianlong replied easily. "So what do you all do here?"

One of the others—a taller woman with braided hair—stepped forward. "It’s our tribe. Naturally, we’d be here. And why would we tell that to a ’man’?"

Tianlong nodded slowly. "Fair enough."

He paused, then smiled.

"Fine then. Make me meet your chief."

The black-haired woman’s expression hardened. "No. We cannot let you, especially since the chief is in seclusion."

"I see..."

His eyes changed. The golden irises flared with light, and suddenly his vision pierced through everything. The trees. The ground. The layers of rock and earth beneath.

His gaze shot through the mountain range like a spear.

There.

Deep within a towering peak, inside a cavern carved from solid stone, a figure sat cross-legged. A woman. Her body radiated immense power—condensed, controlled, but undeniable.

It was pure physical strength.

Tianlong’s smile grew.

"So she is... huh."

He looked back at the four women. "Let’s meet her directly then."

Before any of them could react—

He vanished.

The black butterfly on Tianlong’s shoulder pulsed once—a flicker of violet light—and reality folded.

He didn’t crash into the mountain. Didn’t tear through rock or shatter stone. He simply ’entered’ it, phasing through solid matter like it wasn’t even there.

The ancient technique Yu Xiang had embedded in that butterfly form—spatial manipulation at its finest.

’W-woah...’