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Cultivation Nerd: Chapter 257
🕑 Added 2025-04-30 12:24:29 +0000 UTCChapter 257 - Hearthfire Ice-Stem Flower?
As I moved through the grounds of the Serpent Bone Hall, I kept my steps light and my presence thinner than a whisper.
The vast underground expanse stretched endlessly around me, lit only by scattered lanterns clinging to crooked stone pillars and weathered walls. They gave off barely enough light to cast long, flickering shadows that hugged the walls like living things. The cavern ceiling soared so high above that it vanished into blackness, swallowing sound and light alike.
The ground was rough, uneven stone and more a carved-out crevice than a path, with narrow trails winding between buildings carved in rock and a tall black obelisk etched with strange glowing runes in the middle of this cluster of buildings.
Every so often, small groups of cultivators passed by. Some whispered in hushed conversation, others walked alone, some had hollow eyes and seemed unfocused. Most wore the dark, patchwork robes of the Hall. There were no clear ranks or badges. Everyone blended in, which worked in my favor.
I kept well away from certain areas where the air grew dense, thick with invisible pressure and an oppressive weight that tugged at the lungs and soul alike. Those were the gathering points for Core Formation cultivators, and just brushing against the edge of their presence could unravel my disguise in an instant.
Keeping my head down, I moved like smoke, sticking to forgotten corridors and broken walkways along the edges of the Hall’s inner territory. My weakened Qi made everything slower and duller. Things that had once been instinctive now came with hesitation. Even basic Qi-sensing required deliberate control, like threading a needle with trembling fingers.
I didn’t have time to wander aimlessly, so I listened carefully. Picking up on fragments of conversation, I followed murmurs and observations, deducing likely exit points based on context and movement.
Before long, I spotted a group gathering by the base of a sloped corridor toward an exit, or at least a secret path leading out.
“Okay, remember to keep your heads down and don’t pick a fight,” said a tall, thin man whose figure resembled a drawn blade. His voice was calm but carried authority.
He seemed to lead a team of seven. Each of them wore a plain porcelain mask covering the lower half of their face. Their dark robes matched, but it was the masks that unified them, anonymous and relatively disciplined.
Without hesitation, I retrieved a porcelain mask from my storage ring, one of the spares I had made for Wu Yan. But the moment I did, a spike of pain shot through my temple.
Even the tiny amount of Qi it took to pull something from storage felt like trying to suck the last bit of juice from a crumpled carton through a bent straw. Slow. Straining. Every drop cost something now.
I winced and quickly covered it with a quiet breath.
But I didn’t dwell on the thought long.
At the tip of my finger, I summoned a hair-thin jade blade, like a scalpel, and ran it cleanly across the porcelain mask. It split into two perfect halves. The Qi string connecting the blade to my core remained intact, and I simply reeled it back in. Even in my weakened state, it barely felt like I’d used anything at all.
I had never realized how much Qi was wasted during routine technique use until I had almost none left. It was like discovering you’d been flushing toilets with bottled spring water your whole life.
I fitted the lower half of the mask onto my face and adjusted it until it rested comfortably.
It’s showtime.
Then, after observing the group for a few moments, I moved toward them at a casual pace, maintaining a quiet but deliberate distance. Close enough to blend in, far enough not to raise suspicion. They seemed relaxed, too comfortable on their home turf to expect anything unusual.
Perfect.
We moved through a vacant hallway, eventually arriving at a stairwell that spiraled upward toward what looked like a trap door. A lone guard stood at the bottom step, a middle-aged man radiating the stable power of a five-star Qi Gathering Cultivator.
The tall leader at the front didn’t say a word. He merely flashed a token.
The guard nodded with a small smirk. “Go and give them hell.”
One by one, we climbed the stairs. I stayed second from the back.
After a few minutes, the trap door creaked open, and blinding natural light poured down. The sudden brightness after so long underground made my eyes water, but I kept my posture composed.
“C’mon, everyone,” the leader called. The mask slightly muffled his voice, giving it a cold, almost metallic timbre. “Watch your step, and don’t slip.”
We emerged into the open world.
Grassland stretched out around us, the ruinous towers of the ancient city barely visible in the distance behind a gentle haze. The trapdoor, hidden beneath moss and roots, blended seamlessly into the earth.
Once everyone was out, the leader gathered the group into a loose circle.
“Alright. Listen closely. No drinking, no slacking, no stupidity,” he said, his tone cutting through the breeze. “This mission matters. It’s not just a flower; it’s the legacy of the Serpent Bone Hall for the next century.”
He paused to meet everyone’s eyes.
“Our destination is White Snow Valley. We’re after the Snow Flower, it only blooms once every twenty years, and the Bloodshade Pavilion has claimed it the last three times. That ends today.”
I stayed silent, nodding with the others.
White Snow Valley… so that’s what it was called. And now I also had a name for the treasure: the Snow Flower. It sounded a lot like the Hearthfire Ice-Stem Flower.
Bloodshade Pavilion?
So that was the other organization we were competing with?
They were mostly known as an organization of alchemists, famed for their cultivation-enhancing pills, many of which used monstrous beast blood and organs as key ingredients.
Despite the ominous name, they were legitimate. At least, according to the outdated reports I’d read.
As the team leader kept talking, this whole mission began to feel less like a covert operation and more like some twisted inter-organizational competition. Something lowkey. Likely unapproved by the two major sects backing each group.
The Serpent Bone Hall might have sent their younger generation to play the game. Still, I’d bet anything that Core Formation elders were watching from the shadows to make sure no one crossed a line, like sending Core Formation Cultivators to wipe out the younger generation.
That made things more complicated… and strangely simpler.
I didn’t need to overthrow anything.
I just had to win.
But to do that, I needed my Qi back. Fast.
Lingering near the rear of the group, I let the others move ahead as I kept my footsteps light. The sun crept over the hills, casting its glow across their backs, while warmth flickered across my face.
No one looked back. Good.
Slipping a hand into my robe, I summoned a small pouch of spirit stones from my storage ring. The Qi used drained me more than expected, just that small act left a blank haze in my mind.
I blinked. Regained focus.
Not now. Stay awake.
The spirit stones pulsed faintly in my palm, cool and smooth, their surfaces veined with soft inner light.
I took one, pinching it between two fingers, and slowly guided it toward my dantian. My breathing deepened. My Qi stirred, sluggish at first, like a frozen stream beginning to thaw.
The stone warmed. Its essence unraveled into threads of spiritual energy, winding through my meridians. I guided them with care, feeding my starving core. My Qi pool still felt like a dried-out well, but at least something was flowing again.
With each breath, the pressure in my chest loosened. The ache behind my eyes faded. My spine uncoiled.
It was a quiet process but not an easy one.
Sweat beaded on my brow. I kept the flow steady, avoiding any Qi backlash from too much intake at once. A hairline crack split the stone in my hand, then another.
A soft flicker of light… and it dulled. Drained and dead.
I tucked the useless thing away and reached for another.
Normally, cultivators refined Qi slowly. Carefully. To avoid waste.
But I didn’t have time for finesse.
I had spirit stones in abundance.
What I needed now was Qi and fast.
…
Surprisingly, Snow Valley was only ten hours away. The journey carried us from soft green plains into colder, harsher terrain, the shift so gradual it was almost imperceptible at first.
The wind sharpened with each step. The warmth of the grasslands faded behind us. Frost crept along the edges of the trail, clinging to rocks and dead shrubs. Before long, the ground was mostly stone and snow.
I stayed at the rear, my steps steady, presence quiet.
While we walked, I continued drawing Qi from spirit stones, slipping them from my pouch one by one, guiding the energy carefully into my core. The process was slow and deliberate. I kept my breathing calm and my circulation steady.
By the time we reached the edge of the Snow Valley, its vast, frozen plains stretching beneath a pale, cloud-veiled sky, I had recovered about twenty percent of my Qi.
Not much. But enough to feel anchored again. Enough to stand and fight if it came to it.
The cold wind swept across the valley like a silent warning. Still, I stepped forward, snow crunching beneath my boots.
No monstrous beasts had appeared on the way.
That, at least, was a blessing.
I spread my senses to their limits and immediately cursed under my breath.
Fuck. I might be too late.
The Hearthfire Ice-Stem Flower was notoriously hard to sense before picking. Its Qi blended seamlessly with its environment. However, once harvested, the spiritual signature became much easier to detect unless it was sealed away by a proper array.
Fortunately, I knew two arrays that could seal energy. One was from the Song Clan Library. The other, older and more mysterious, came from the Four Way Immortal's inheritance. That one was outdated, requiring the Qi of a tamed beast to shroud the herb's presence. It masked the treasure with the essence of a monstrous beast.
I broke off from the group without anyone noticing, moving low and fast, keeping my presence buried. My aura sealed tight, and I became little more than a breath in the frigid wind.
Then I felt it.
A cluster of six Qi signatures huddled together around something. Unfocused. Unalert. Their energy flickered in that loose, lazy way people had when they thought they were alone.
They didn't expect anyone to find them.
My heartbeat surged.
A treasure was right there.
What would it feel like? Taste like? What could I learn from it?
This wasn't just about power. It was knowledge. Discovery. Possibility.
I forced the excitement down. I couldn't afford to get sloppy.
The snow crunched beneath my boots with a muted rhythm as I closed the gap. My breath slowed. The cold scraped at my lungs, but I didn't falter.
By the time I reached them, I was already on top of them.
Only then did one stir, a flicker of alarm sparking through their Qi.
Too late.
They turned, heads snapping up with dawning confusion–
Too late. The element of surprise belonged to me.
____________________
A/N: Sup, another chap is coming out today. This was supposed to be one chapter (256, 257, and 258) but I noticed it was taking too long to write and had to separate them. It was almost 8k words all together.
Comments
Gardor
"By the time I reached them, I was already on top of them" Yeah, that's what "reaching them" means
Gardor
"A treasure was right there. What would it feel like? Taste like? What could I learn from it?" Oh, the treasure he doesn't even want or need, that he's putting his life on the line to get? That he's willing to alienate the one decent sect that supported Song Song for?
Undead Writer
TFTC
