After leaving the ravine behind, Li Chen did not slow his pace immediately. He moved for nearly half a day through warped terrain, crossing fractured plains and drifting stone fields, ensuring that no lingering spiritual sense trailed him. Only when the Divine Sword Breathing confirmed absolute stillness did he finally stop.
He exhaled softly.
Saving those disciples had been a risk—one he would normally avoid. Yet now that it was done, Li Chen refused to dwell on it. Regret was useless. What mattered was extracting value from the remaining time in the secret realm.
Two months sounded long to outsiders, but Li Chen knew better. In a place where danger and opportunity walked hand in hand, time vanished faster than qi during a breakthrough.
He adjusted his direction, following faint fluctuations in spiritual pressure. Unlike other cultivators, who chased visible treasures or fought over obvious inheritances, Li Chen trusted irregularities—places where qi behaved unnaturally, where sword intent resonated faintly with the land itself.
Before long, he arrived at a sunken stone platform half-buried beneath layers of cracked earth. At first glance, it appeared abandoned, even mundane. But Li Chen's eyes sharpened.
"This formation… ancient," he murmured.
It was incomplete, damaged by time and spatial turbulence, yet traces of refinement remained. Carefully, Li Chen stepped onto the platform, releasing a thread of sword intent so fine it could barely be considered intent at all. The response was immediate.
The platform trembled.
A concealed compartment slid open with a grinding sound, revealing several objects wrapped in faded spiritual cloth. Li Chen's heart rate remained steady as he examined them one by one.
First: a Spirit Vein Nurturing Crystal, cracked but still usable—perfect for stabilizing cultivation during later Foundation Establishment stages.
Second: three jade slips containing fragmented records of body-tempering techniques. Incomplete, yes, but valuable references nonetheless.
Third—and most interesting—a thumb-sized Void Storage Pearl, its internal space warped but intact. Li Chen's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Good," he said quietly.
He stored everything without hesitation, leaving no trace behind. Before departing, he shattered the remaining formation remnants with a controlled burst of sword intent. If he could not take it with him, he would not leave it for others.
Over the following days, Li Chen continued this pattern—never staying too long in one place, never engaging unless absolutely necessary. He avoided large conflicts between sects, slipped past territorial beasts, and harvested only what aligned with his long-term survival.
A cluster of Spirit Nourishing Moss growing in a spatial fracture. A fragment of Heaven-Scarred Stone, resonant with sword intent. A broken but functional soul-calming bell, ideal for preventing cultivation deviation.
None of these treasures would shake the world, but together, they formed a foundation far more terrifying than any single flashy inheritance.
Then, on the forty-ninth day—
The realm changed.
Li Chen felt it instantly.
The air thickened, qi circulation became erratic, and distant space rippled like disturbed water. Above the fractured sky, faint lines of golden light appeared, stretching from horizon to horizon.
"The realm is closing," Li Chen said calmly.
Unlike many disciples who panicked at such signs, he had been prepared. The elders had warned them: when the Realm of Hidden Origins began to reject foreign qi, survival became secondary to escape.
He did not rush.
Rushing led to mistakes.
Instead, Li Chen found a stable elevation point and sat down, circulating the Divine Sword Breathing at its most subtle level. The technique responded, smoothing his internal qi and shielding his foundation from the chaotic spatial pressure.
Around him, the realm began to collapse in earnest.
Mountains folded inward. Floating islands shattered. Spatial rifts snapped open and closed like predatory mouths.
Screams echoed in the distance—cultivators caught unprepared, formations failing, bodies torn apart by unstable space.
Li Chen remained unmoved.
When the golden light finally descended upon him, forming a teleportation array beneath his feet, he stood slowly and adjusted his robes.
His gaze swept once more across the dying realm.
I took what I needed, he thought. And nothing more.
As space twisted violently around him, Li Chen felt a brief pull—an instinctive worry that flashed through his mind.
Xu Ming.
Hold on, Li Chen thought silently. I'm coming back.
The world inverted.
When his vision cleared, Li Chen found himself standing within a familiar stone hall—the sect's secret realm reception platform. Spiritual formations hummed overhead, suppressing lingering spatial turbulence as disciples materialized one by one.
Some collapsed immediately. Some screamed. Some stared blankly, having lost companions forever.
Li Chen, however, stood perfectly upright.
Several elders turned sharply, their gazes locking onto him. For a brief instant, their expressions shifted—surprise, relief, and something far closer to awe.
He inclined his head slightly, suppressing his aura completely.
Nothing dramatic. Nothing suspicious.
Just another core disciple returning from the secret realm.
Yet deep within his dantian, the Divine Sword Breathing pulsed faintly, stronger than before, nourished by danger, fortune, and restraint.
The Realm of Hidden Origins had closed.
But for Li Chen—
A far more dangerous chapter was only beginning.