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What do you mean I'm a cultivator?-Chapter 39
Jiang Cheng kept his distance, observing the caravan’s movements. The guards, while disciplined, were not of any sect, and certainly not his own, meaning they were hired mercenaries or some kind of personal army.
The emblem on the lead carriage was unfamiliar to him, but the craftsmanship of the carriages and the sheer number of guards spoke of wealth and influence.
Almost three dozen guards felt a bit too much for only three carriages, but he supposed one could never be too careful. Or paranoid.
An hour or two passed in quiet observation. The sun had begun to dip westward when a sudden shift in the air put him on alert. The forest on either side of the road rustled unnaturally, a disturbance beyond the wind.
Then, it happened.
A volley of arrows shot from the trees, striking down two of the guards instantly. The rest reacted with surprising efficiency, forming a tight defensive circle around the carriages, shields raised as more arrows rained down.
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Bandits? No, Jiang Cheng quickly dismissed the thought. No ordinary thieves would dare attack a caravan traveling through sect controlled territories, especially ones this close to the sect.
This was something else.
From the shadows of the forest, figures emerged, clad in dark gray clothing, their faces partially obscured by cloth masks. They moved with a precision that spoke of training. Not just thugs. Mercenaries. Perhaps assassins.
"This reeks of politics." Cheng mumbled to himself as he stared at the fight.
The guards shouted, drawing their weapons as the attackers closed in. Steel met steel, and battle erupted on the road. Jiang Cheng remained still, watching the unfolding chaos.
This wasn’t mere robbery. There was an intent here, a purpose beyond mere wealth. His eyes flickered to the lead carriage, where a single figure could be seen peeking through the window.
An older man, dressed in fine silks, his expression pale with fear.
A merchant. Or something more.
Jiang Cheng exhaled, considering his options. He had no real reason to interfere. This was not his battle. And yet, something about the way the attackers fought. How they targeted specific guards, avoiding unnecessary casualties, told him that this was no random act of violence.
It was a clear assassination, masked as a mere bandit attack.
And whoever was inside that lead carriage was not meant to survive.
His fingers twitched at his side.
Did he care enough to intervene?
Jiang Cheng’s fingers twitched at his side, still debating whether to intervene when a faint whistling sound cut through the air. His body moved on instinct, tilting his head just enough for the knife to sail past, embedding itself into a tree behind him with a dull thunk.
His eyes snapped toward the direction of the attack, his expression unreadable.
A figure emerged from the deepening shadows of the forest as night slowly came, stepping onto the dirt path with deliberate calm.
The man was tall, cloaked in full black, his face obscured by a cloth mask that left nothing but his cold black eyes as he stared at Cheng. As much as the man tried to play the part of a confident man, But Cheng could tell by his cultivation that it was mostly an act.
Barely mid stage. Weak compared to himself. Yet the confidence in his posture suggested he had something else up his sleeve.
Jiang Cheng’s gaze flickered briefly to the blade lodged in the tree. A faint shimmer coated the steel. Poison.
Nothing too difficult to probably deal with himself. But getting poisoned in the middle of a fight would likely lead to his death.
"Unfortunate." the man in black spoke, voice smooth but laced with amusement. "You were just in the wrong place at the right time."
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Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes but remained still. He could kill this man in seconds, but he held back. Poison was one thing, but if this was part of a larger scheme, it would be reckless to act without understanding the situation.
Instead, he spoke, voice calm yet carrying an edge of warning.
“You know where you are, don’t you?” His gaze swept over the battlefield below, where the assassins were still locked in combat with the caravan’s guards. “What exactly do you think you’re doing on sect territory?”
A flicker of something, perhaps amusement, perhaps calculation, passed through the man’s eyes.
“We’re merely cleansing filth.” the man replied, rolling his shoulders as if unconcerned. “Does that concern you, mister?”
Jiang Cheng didn’t answer immediately. He was gathering information, watching for tells in the man’s stance. He could tell the assassin was measuring him just as much.
"Cleaning filth? Really now. Something tells me you're not really a good natured cleaner now. I wonder why." Cheng spoke, his fingers curling on his sword, drawing it out of its sheath, causing the man to widen his eyes slightly, at the Qi condensation grade sword.
A difference in some cultivation stages was not all, particularly in the Qi condensation realm, but with a higher tier weapon than his own?
The man seemed to be weighing his options, perhaps wanting to stall, so his comrades could assist him.
The man in black exhaled softly, shaking his head as if disappointed. “Ah, what a shame. I had hoped you would simply let this be.” His voice was smooth, composed, but Jiang Cheng could hear the underlying strain. The assassin was buying time.
Jiang Cheng’s grip tightened on his sword, but he didn’t attack just yet. “You haven’t answered my question.” he said, his voice carrying an unmistakable edge. “What are you really doing here?”
The assassin tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. “I already told you. Cleansing filth.”
His left hand remained visible at his side, fingers relaxed, but Jiang Cheng noticed the subtle shift in his right hand, slipping into his robe. His mind immediately pieced together the possibilities. Another poisoned knife?
The assassin's movements were practiced, subtle, but Jiang Cheng had been watching closely. His sword glinted under the fading light as he took a measured step forward. “And you expect me to believe that?”
The man chuckled. “Believe whatever you like, cultivator. But tell me. Are you truly concerned about a mere merchant’s fate? Or are you just looking for a fight?”
Jiang Cheng didn’t answer immediately. He could sense the battle behind him shifting. The guards were being overwhelmed. It wouldn’t be long before the assassins finished their work.
"You realise that Such actions in our sect grounds are punishable by death, correct?" Cheng spoke, slowly ramping up the flow of his Qi.
The real question was. Did he let them? Or did he make sure this man never got the chance to throw whatever he was hiding in his sleeve?
The Path of Immortality: Peering through heavenly secrets.
Scholar Yang Yuan. Great elder of the Rising Sun Sect.
...
Chapter 4: Foundation Establishment.
The step from Qi Condensation to Foundation Establishment is not merely a progression of cultivation but a fundamental transformation of the body, mind, and spirit.
A cultivator who reaches this stage steps beyond the limits of mere mortals, solidifying their place on the path of immortality.
Physically, the changes are profound. Where a Qi Condensation cultivator is stronger, faster, and more resilient than a mortal, a Foundation Establishment cultivator is something else entirely.
Bones become denser, no longer as brittle as ordinary humans. Muscles, refined by their potent Qi, possess strength far beyond their apparent size.
A single strike from a cultivator at this stage can pulverise stone, unaided by Qi, and their endurance is such that they can travel days without food or rest, sustained by their refined internal energy.
Their senses, already sharpened by Qi Condensation, reach new heights. A Foundation Establishment cultivator can hear a whispered conversation from dozens of zhang, see clearly in total darkness, and sense the presence of others through their qi alone, as well as develop the uncanny ability to mask their Qi signature, appearing like a mortal, to those weaker than themselves.
Their perception extends beyond the physical. They begin to develop an awareness of Qi in their surroundings, allowing them to react to attacks even before they fully manifest.
The most dramatic change, however, is their lifespan. A cultivator at this stage no longer ages as a mortal does.
Where Qi Condensation extends life to approximately one hundred and twenty years, Foundation Establishment doubles that and more.
Those who reach this realm can live for at least two hundred and fifty years, and some with particularly solid foundations, or pure, as older texts may call such, can extend their lives even further.
Their aging slows to a near halt, with cultivators appearing to remain in their prime for centuries before showing signs of decline.
With this extension of life, however, comes new challenges, one more significant than the other.
The mind, no longer bound by the fleeting nature of mortality, must adapt to the reality of decades and even centuries of existence.
Those who fail to cultivate their will alongside their bodies often find themselves lost, adrift in time, unable to hold onto their purpose, like a kite whose strings are cut off.
Foundation Establishment marks the first true severance from mortality. A cultivator at this stage is no longer merely strong. They have begun to step into a world where time is measured in centuries, where strength is not just a tool but a defining force of existence.
As for the other problem we cultivators face, One must be familiar with the concept of Death Qi to understand the true scale. If you are looking for specific information about it, I recommend checking page 76.
Chapter 5: Spirital sea
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