Chapter 1: Shadows of the Longshen Mountains

Rise of the Immortal Dragon - By GreenShirt

The sun dipped low over the jagged peaks of the Longshen Mountains, casting a blood-red glow over the rugged landscape. The air was thick with the weight of impending dusk, as if the mountains themselves were holding their breath, waiting for something—or someone—to awaken. Beneath their towering presence, the village of Canglan huddled against the rocky slopes, its inhabitants small and inconsequential in the face of the mountains' overwhelming power. But in the heart of this village, a young boy was unknowingly caught in the currents of destiny, his life about to be forever altered.

At fifteen years old, Long Tian had been given the title of an outer disciple by the Canglan Sect, though it was a title in name only. Despite his age, his cultivation was practically nonexistent. His Dantian remained untouched, and he had not even reached the first level of Qi Gathering. The sect had taken him in out of grudging obligation after the death of his parents, and an elder who owed a minor debt to Long Tian's grandmother had permitted him to stay, but only as a servant. His days were spent sweeping courtyards, fetching water, and scrubbing floors while the other disciples honed their cultivation, ascending step by step toward immortality. For Long Tian, the path of cultivation was a distant dream, his potential locked away, unseen by those around him.

"Worthless dog," spat Zhao Gang, shoving Long Tian to the ground with a force that sent him sprawling. The other outer disciples gathered around, their jeers a chorus of scorn that echoed in Long Tian's ears.

Zhao Gang, a burly youth a year older than Long Tian, loomed over him, his face twisted with contempt. Zhao Gang was the leader of this small band of tormentors, and he delighted in making Long Tian's life a living hell.

"You think you're better than us, don't you?" Zhao Gang sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "You think just because that old hag of a grandmother owns some land, you're something special?"

Long Tian gritted his teeth, feeling the familiar sting of humiliation rise within him. He had been taught by his grandmother to endure, to wait for the right moment, but patience was a bitter medicine. He knew well that he was no more than a servant to the sect, a boy meant to perform menial tasks while the true disciples pursued the Dao. To the sect, he was an unwanted burden, a reminder of the land they could not seize.

"Get up, worm," Zhao Gang commanded, his foot connecting with Long Tian's ribs, sending a jolt of pain through his body.

Long Tian forced himself to his feet, every movement accompanied by the dull ache of bruises. His heart pounded as he met Zhao Gang's gaze, the weight of the other disciples' mocking stares pressing down on him. But within that heart, there was no room for surrender. Even though he had no strength to speak of, there was a fierce will—a refusal to be broken.

Zhao Gang wasn't finished. His eyes gleamed with a sudden, cruel inspiration. "Let's see how well you can run, servant boy," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He turned to the others, nodding toward the mountain path that led deeper into the range. "How about we give him a head start, eh? Let's see if the little rat can find his way out of the mountains before the beasts find him."

The other disciples laughed, their voices cruel and mocking, but there was a dark edge to their amusement. They had played this game before, chasing Long Tian into the treacherous parts of the mountains, where the terrain was unforgiving and the dangers were real. It was a game that thrilled them, a twisted form of sport where they could exert their power over someone weaker.

Long Tian's heart raced as he backed away, his mind spinning with fear. He knew the mountains well, but the path Zhao Gang was suggesting led to the base of the Longshen range, where the cliffs were steep and the ground unstable. It was a place where even the bravest disciples tread with caution, a place where death was a constant companion.

"Run!" Zhao Gang barked, giving Long Tian a hard shove. "Run, or we'll throw you over the edge ourselves!"

Without another word, Long Tian turned and sprinted down the narrow path, the laughter of his tormentors echoing behind him. The jagged peaks of the Longshen Mountains loomed on either side, their shadows lengthening as the sun dipped lower in the sky. The path twisted and turned, leading him deeper into the heart of the mountains, where the air grew thin and the silence was heavy with foreboding.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he ran, his mind racing with thoughts of escape. He had no choice but to keep moving; to stop was to invite more pain, or worse. But as he descended toward the base of the mountain, the terrain grew more treacherous, the path narrowing until it was little more than a ledge clinging to the mountainside.

He could hear Zhao Gang and the others behind him, their voices growing louder as they closed the distance. Panic surged within Long Tian as he reached a point where the path split—one route led further down toward the base of the mountain, where a deep ravine waited like a hungry beast, its depths hidden in shadow. The other route led into the dense forest that clung to the mountainside, where the underbrush was thick and the ground uncertain.

But before he could decide, he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his back. Zhao Gang had caught up to him, his hand grabbing the back of Long Tian's tunic and yanking him backward.

"You're not getting away that easily," Zhao Gang snarled, his grip tightening. He pushed Long Tian closer to the edge, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight.

With a swift movement, Zhao Gang raised his hand, and a flicker of Qi surged around his fingers. "Let me show you what real power looks like," he hissed, channeling his energy into a basic but effective technique, one that would send Long Tian tumbling to his death.

Zhao Gang's palm struck Long Tian in the chest, and the force of the Qi-infused blow sent him careening backward. As Long Tian's body hurtled toward the edge of the ravine, a desperate instinct awakened within him. Unbeknownst to him, a faint ripple of energy pulsed from his core—a defensive reflex born from a deep, hidden potential that had yet to be realized.

The world tilted as he plunged over the edge, the wind rushing past his ears as he tumbled through the air. The jagged cliffs flashed by, sharp stones tearing at his clothes and skin as he fell deeper into the darkness. Fear gripped his heart, and in that moment, Long Tian was certain he was going to die.

But just as he braced for the impact, something strange happened. A soft glow enveloped him, and the sensation of falling suddenly changed. The energy within him flared, and he felt a strange, protective force envelop him, slowing his descent. The sensation was fleeting, like the brush of a breeze, and then it was gone. His body hit the ground with a thud, the impact jarring but far from fatal.

Long Tian lay still, gasping for breath, his mind reeling from what had just happened. He was alive. He had fallen into the ravine, but somehow, he had survived. He winced as he tried to sit up, the pain in his ribs reminding him of the fall. His hand brushed against something cool, and he looked down to see a faint glow emanating from the bracelet on his wrist—a simple piece of jade that his grandmother had given him years ago.

Was it this? Long Tian wondered, staring at the bracelet in disbelief. Had it somehow protected him, or was it the force he had felt just before he lost consciousness? As he puzzled over it, a sudden thought occurred to him—was it possible that he had passed through some sort of portal, one that had been hidden within the ravine itself?

As his vision cleared, Long Tian realized he was no longer in the open air. The ground beneath him was smooth, unlike the rough terrain above. He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The light was dim, but there was enough to see that he was in a cave—a hidden hollow at the bottom of the ravine, concealed from the outside world.

The air inside the cave was cool and dry, and the walls were lined with strange, ancient carvings. They were unlike anything Long Tian had ever seen—intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with a faint, otherworldly energy. But what caught his attention the most was the faint scent of blood in the air. He looked down and saw that his fall had caused his wounds to open further, and droplets of his blood had splattered on the ground. As he watched, the ground beneath the blood shimmered and shifted, revealing a hidden entrance that had not been visible before.

Long Tian's heart pounded in his chest as he pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the pain in his ribs. He had heard stories of hidden caves in the mountains, places where powerful treasures or long-forgotten secrets were said to be buried. But those were just stories—tales told by the older disciples to frighten the younger ones.

Yet here he was, standing in a place that shouldn't exist. How did I survive the fall? Was it because of the bracelet, or was there something more? Did my blood somehow open this cave?

His eyes were drawn to the center of the cave, where a stone platform rose from the ground. On it lay a simple jade pendant, its

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On the stone platform lay a simple jade pendant, its surface smooth and unmarked, but it seemed to radiate a faint light, casting eerie shadows on the walls of the cave. The pendant pulsed with an energy that resonated deep within Long Tian, calling to him in a way that was both unsettling and irresistible.

Compelled by a force he couldn't explain, Long Tian stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. His hand reached out almost of its own accord, and as his fingers brushed the pendant, a surge of energy jolted through him.

Images flashed before his eyes—memories that weren't his own. A vast battlefield, shrouded in mist. A towering figure, cloaked in flames, wielding a sword that glowed with the light of a thousand suns. And then, a voice, ancient and powerful, echoing through the depths of his mind.

"You... you have been chosen."

Long Tian's hand jerked back, and the vision vanished, leaving him breathless and shaken. He stumbled backward, nearly falling again, but caught himself just in time. The cave was silent, save for the pounding of his heart in his ears.

The pendant lay still on the platform, but it no longer seemed ordinary. It hummed with a quiet power, a power that called to him, beckoned him to take it.

Long Tian hesitated, fear and curiosity warring within him. But in the end, curiosity won out. He reached for the pendant once more, this time lifting it from the platform. The moment it left the stone, the cave shuddered, as if the mountain itself had awakened.

Long Tian staggered as the ground beneath him trembled, but the pendant remained steady in his grasp. He held it close, its warmth seeping into his skin, and as he did, the trembling subsided.

The cave was still again, but the air was charged with something new—something that hadn't been there before. Long Tian could feel it, a presence just beyond the edge of his consciousness, waiting.

"Who...who are you?" Long Tian whispered, his voice trembling in the silence.

"I am Di Yongheng," the voice replied, calm and ancient, resonating within the walls of the cave. "The Dì Yongheng."—the Emperor of Eternity.

The words were heavy with a power that made Long Tian's heart skip a beat, the title echoing with an authority that seemed to transcend time.

Long Tian's eyes widened, the weight of the words pressing down on him. He had heard of such titles before, in the hushed whispers of the older disciples—legends of cultivators who had reached unimaginable heights of power, those who had transcended the mortal plane and left behind only their names in the annals of history. Perhaps now, one of them was speaking to him.

"I don't understand," Long Tian said, his voice shaking. "Why me?"

"Why you indeed," Di Yongheng's voice said, tinged with a hint of aloofness. "No one has set foot in this cave for over three thousand years, and yet here you are, a mere boy, barely touched by the Dao. The heavens must be playing some cruel joke."

There was a pause as if the spirit was considering something. "Your name... Tian. We share this name. Perhaps it is a sign, though I am not one to believe in coincidences."

Long Tian's heart sank. The weight of the pendant suddenly felt heavier, as if it was pressing down on his very soul. "I... I didn't mean to intrude. I just... I was just trying to escape."

"Escape," Di Yongheng mused, the word rolling off his spectral tongue as if it were an alien concept. "Perhaps you are fated to be here after all. But do not think that because you hold that pendant, you are worthy of my aid. I have seen countless cultivators rise and fall, their ambitions as fleeting as the wind. What makes you different?"

"I don't know," Long Tian admitted, his voice firm yet filled with uncertainty. "I've never had a chance to prove myself. They... they won't let me."

"Won't let you?" Di Yongheng's voice was skeptical, almost mocking. "Or are you simply too weak to take what should be yours?"

Long Tian's fists clenched at his sides, a flicker of anger igniting in his chest. He had been beaten down, humiliated, treated as less than dirt, but the one thing he had never lacked was determination. "I may be weak now, but I won't stay that way. If i can cultivate, I'll prove it. I'll prove that I'm not just some worthless servant."

There was a long silence, and for a moment, Long Tian feared that the spirit had left him. But then, Di Yongheng's voice echoed again, softer this time, the tone almost contemplative.

"Very well. You have a spark, but it is yet to be kindled. Take the pendant and leave this place. In time, we shall see if you are truly worthy of the power you seek. But know this—your journey will be fraught with peril, and the path to strength is only paved with suffering. Only through trials will you forge the strength to rise."

Long Tian nodded, the weight of the pendant heavy in his grasp. He didn't know what the future held, but for the first time in his life, he had a sense of purpose—a glimmer of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, he could become something more.

"Thank you, Sir," Long Tian said, his voice filled with gratitude.

"Sir?" Di Yongheng repeated, his tone now laced with irritation. "If you are to carry this pendant, then you must address me properly. You may call me Di Yongheng. Remember that, boy."

Long Tian hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you... Di Yongheng."

As he spoke the name, it felt strange on his tongue, but there was a sense of finality to it, as if something had been decided in that moment. He turned to leave the cave, but before he did, he cast one last glance at the carvings on the walls. They seemed to shimmer in the dim light, as if acknowledging the choice he had made.