Chapter 147: Their Vacation(6)

Sorry 1 Chapter only today

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Deep within the Sunset Forest, beyond the breathtaking yet harmonious sanctuary where ice and fire coexist, lies a terrifying hell on earth.

The slopes are covered in beautiful poisonous flowers, artificially accelerated in growth by divine power. Beneath the intertwined roots of these toxic blooms, lethal miasma lingers, mingling with the dried-out remains of those not completely consumed by the Bi-Phosphor Flowers. The silent remnants of bones rest deep within the mountain crevices.

In this ancient and desolate graveyard, death is a bond.

Spirit Masters and Spirit Beasts, prey and predators— their bones lie together in an intimate embrace, indistinguishable from one another, blended into the passage of time. The grudges of their living days have dissipated beneath the toxic skirts of the rainbow-colored goddess of death.

Yet, in the deepest, darkest layers of this sunless tomb of countless bones, a sudden upheaval disturbs the skeletal silence.

A massive yet immature creature, clad in decaying corpses and white fungal growths, stirs comfortably within its cradle of bones.

As the skeletons shift, the young monster's blood-red, dragon-like vertical pupils momentarily illuminate the eerie cemetery. Its large false eyes emit an eerie orange glow through the gaps of decayed flesh, briefly piercing the abyss.

No one knows what will happen when this creature—raised in poison and death—decides to step out of its warm hiding place.

Late at night, a gray ancient fortress was shrouded in thick mist. The immense spiritual energy of the mountains surged like tides, nourishing the secluded sect's disciples.

Such an advantageous location, such rich spiritual energy—training here naturally yielded twice the results with half the effort.

But what was the point of the Haotian Sect's disciples growing stronger?

As members of an isolated sect that had barely interacted with the outside world for thousands of years, no matter how powerful they became, they were ultimately bound to live and die within the confines of their sect's limited domain.

Could they challenge different kinds of powerful opponents? Could they access the latest Soul Tools? Could they adapt to the real future of the Spirit Master world?

Or perhaps, the reality was far less impressive than the outside world imagined—maybe they weren't as strong as the legends claimed, and that was why they had to remain hidden, preserving the reputation of the world's number one Tool Spirit?

Setting aside such malicious speculation, regardless of the true strength of Haotian Sect's disciples, as long as the sect had two divine envoys guarding it, its status would remain unshakable.

Inside a room on the third floor of Haotian Castle, Wang Dong sat cross-legged on his bed, muttering to himself.

"Rhythm... the rhythm of heaven and earth... my rhythm..."

He repeated these words for a while before finally collapsing backward onto his soft blankets in frustration.

His lithe waist arched into a beautiful curve as he stretched, and his loose sleepwear inadvertently shifted, revealing toned abdominal muscles.

"Ugh! Where is this so-called rhythm? Senior Sister must have been lying to me!" Wang Dong groaned, rolling around like a lifeless fish. "Is this something humans can comprehend?!"

He continued to roll across the bed aimlessly. "Ahhh—when will the semester start already?!"

Unlike his classmates, who cherished their vacation time, Wang Dong was desperately looking forward to returning to school.

Because his head was throbbing.

From the moment Wang Dong could remember—about two years ago—he had suffered from constant headaches.

Before attending school, back in the sect, his head would ache every night, as if someone were repeatedly hacking at his skull with a dull axe. Sleeping early helped somewhat, though he would still occasionally wake up in pain. Meditation? Impossible—it was far too dangerous, almost guaranteeing an energy deviation.

When he first arrived at Shrek Academy, that annoying Ai Wen even mocked him for being a lazy dog who refused to cultivate at night.

Yet strangely, after some time at Shrek Academy, Wang Dong's nightly headaches stopped. He could even meditate like the others, replacing sleep with cultivation.

Only occasionally—when he thought about certain things—the pain would return. But as long as he avoided those thoughts, he was fine.

However, just days after returning to Haotian Sect, the headaches came back.

"Could it be that my sect's feng shui is incompatible with me? That would be way too tragic!" Wang Dong stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Well... he really didn't like living in the sect.

Rolling over, he hugged his blanket tightly and thought gloomily, It's like I've never even lived here. Even though I have memories, every tree and blade of grass feels unfamiliar.

The other disciples treated him with respect, but Wang Dong could feel their indifference.

He knew they disliked him—was it jealousy because he could leave the sect? Or... was it because, in their eyes, he had simply appeared out of nowhere?

Before the pain could intensify, Wang Dong quickly cut off his thoughts.

When he had mentioned his headaches to his two fathers, they had given him vague answers, calling it congenital weakness before stuffing him with endless tonics.

Fine. He was used to these secrets by now.

When he told his friends:

An Wen had given him a pitiful look and tossed him a discount card for the Moonshadow Commerce Guild, suggesting he buy medicine.

Huo Yuhao, deeply worried, had rummaged through his storage soul tool for thick medical tomes and promised to consult his teacher.

As for An Wen's brother, Wang Rui—he was like a walking riddle. His cryptic words hinted at something dangerous, and while part of Wang Dong dismissed him as paranoid, another part felt uneasy. Was his situation really that bad?

Then there was Senior Sister Jiang Lan. She had earnestly taught him a cultivation technique—something about finding inner peace and the rhythm of heaven and earth. She said it helped her forget pain while accelerating her cultivation.

But Wang Dong couldn't feel any rhythm.

Honestly, he would rather she just patted his head and said, "Pain, pain, go away."

His cheeks flushed slightly as he grinned foolishly.

"What are you thinking about?"

Ma Xiaotao suddenly asked, stretching her arms behind her head. She wore a cropped top, revealing her toned midriff. Her dark red hair swayed playfully like a tail against her pale skin as she moved.

She was traveling with her two little assistants, investigating her past. Years ago, Yan Shaozhe had found her crying in a sea of dark purple flames along a trade route between the Heavenly Soul Empire and Shrek Academy. No other traces remained.

Merchants and bandits passed through these roads. Maybe she could still find some clues—or maybe not.

Either way, she had to try.

She was also trying to distract herself.

"What will be Bei bei's fourth spirit skill?"

Xu Sanshi blurted out instinctively.

"Who asked you?" Ma Xiaotao rolled her eyes before giving him a knowing smirk. "Tsk, tsk. You do have him on your heart. If you can't say it yourself, I'll tell Bei bei for you."

"I beg you—NO!" Xu Sanshi screamed in panic.

"Lan'er? What were you thinking about?" Ma Xiaotao ignored him and fell back half a step, poking Jiang Lan's waist.

"Butterflies." The doll-like girl responded flatly.

Xu Sanshi clicked his tongue loudly.

Ma Xiaotao frowned. This little sister of mine—she's still just a kid!

But if she was thinking about butterflies, who else could it be? The first-year student with the Goddess Light Butterfly spirit, of course!

"Well, at least he's handsome," Ma Xiaotao relented. "Once he gets into the inner court, snatch him up during Sea God's Fate."

Jiang Lan looked puzzled but nodded slightly.

She was about to say something when her face suddenly darkened.

"There's something here."

Ma Xiaotao's brows furrowed as well. She felt it too.

Only Xu Sanshi was still clueless—until he saw a figure land at a safe distance.

A tall, pretty girl with feathered accessories

Feathers adorned the sides of her ears, suggesting a high-speed flying bird-type martial soul. Xu Sanshi barely had time to register that her arms had transformed from bird wings back into human hands; he hadn't even caught a clear glimpse of her soul rings.

"Chen Xiang, Agility-type Battle Soul Sect, Martial Soul: Sharp-tailed Swift," the young woman introduced herself openly, cupping her hands in a courteous gesture to show she meant no harm. "My home is not far from here. I noticed that a few soul masters from afar have been lingering around this area for quite some time, so I came over to ask if you need any assistance."

(End of Chapter)