The Undying Immortal System

Not long after everyone reached Martial King, I relinquished my position as steward of NanLu City, and we all returned to Dragon Peak.

Over the past four years, Jin ZiHan and Cai XiaoYu had cultivated diligently and had reached Peak Grandmaster. They would need time to catch up with us, but they had a large number of contribution points from serving as my ministers, so they would be able to purchase all the karmic energy they needed to reach Earth City.

These two also benefited greatly from a small loophole we had discovered in the sect’s rules. They were only allowed to pay for time in the Trials by using contribution points earned from missions. However, working as one of my ministers counted as a ‘mission.’ So, while I was paying them with points earned through selling pills and formations, to them, they were accruing points earned from missions and were thus able to use them to purchase entry into a Trial.

Using the glut of resources we were able to funnel them, Cai XiaoYu and Jin ZiHan were rushing to raise their cultivation bases as quickly as reasonably possible. None of us wanted them to damage their foundations in the process, but even if they didn’t fully understand my reasoning, they accepted that I wanted to reach the Summit before Emperor Li’s death. To help make that happen, they were willing to risk creating somewhat weak and unstable foundations for this one life.

As for the rest of our group, since we were all Martial Kings, there wasn’t much left for us to do in Profound City. So, after making a few simple preparations, we gathered up and headed to Earth City via the Path of Body.

While we were all skilled and knowledgeable, for Yan, LiTing, and Meng LuYao, this journey still had the potential to be dangerous. Their personal combat skills were not as high as they could have been, and being only at Martial King 1 put them at a disadvantage against higher-level opponents.

To offset this, LiTing made everybody the highest quality Rank 5 refined weapons and armor that she could. In the past, she had hidden her refining abilities, and none of us had openly worn her equipment. We had saved it for use as a trump card if we ever faced mortal peril. However, we had now reached the point where we could be more open with her abilities.

As fully kitted-out Kings, no one below Emperor would be able to pose much of a threat to us. In the near future, I doubted there would be anyone to attack us simply because LiTing was a refiner. Once we reached Peak King, with the combination of skills our group possessed, there wouldn’t be many forces on the entire continent that could stand against us. And if someone did try something, we also had Jin’s and Shen’s support to fall back on.

We still wouldn’t advertise that LiTing was a refiner, and we certainly wouldn’t make anyone aware that she had a potent refining blessing, but we also wouldn’t handicap ourselves by not taking advantage of her abilities.

This path was much as I remembered it, a dense jungle that blocked us from easily seeing any waiting ambushes, but while potential danger surrounded us in all directions, we strode forward confidently.

During this trek, a group of illusory beasts would jump out and attack us with every meter we advanced. These opponents weren’t difficult to handle, but they were annoying.

After walking a full two kilometers under this non-stop assault, the path split apart and passed through five separate stone arches. Upon entering, we were teleported to individual challenges, but with our skills and equipment, the boss monsters we had to fight were easily defeated.

Everything proceeded smoothly, and it started to feel like we weren’t going to have to deal with any surprises.

However, just as I was starting to relax, the situation changed. When I exited the fourth individual challenge, I found JiaQi surrounded by four men in ragged clothing. A quick check showed that they were all between Martial King 4 and 6.

These men had advanced their cultivation through the King realm without using karmic energy. This made them weaker than other King 4s and 6s, but it made them far stronger than the average King 1.

I looked at JiaQi and cocked my head.

“Do you need any help?”

One of the men sneered at me. “Stay out of this if you know what’s good for you.”

I ignored him and continued looking at JiaQi.

She just waved me away. “I’ve got this.”

Nodding, I moved to the side of the path and sat down under a tree to cultivate while I waited for everyone else. About ten minutes later, everyone was ready to go, so I stood back up, and we headed to the fifth and final challenge.

As we left, I couldn’t help but feel that JiaQi needed to learn some type of disposal technique. After her conversation with those bandits, she had left the area a bit too… messy.

Once I defeated the final challenge boss, I was once more teleported to an illusory space with an elder sitting behind a large desk covered in papers.

He looked at me with a conflicted expression.

“Disciple Su Fang, you showed great skill in running your city, you performed excellently within the Trial, you have displayed a strong talent in fighting, and you have openly displayed high levels of talent in two separate professions. However, you have never openly demonstrated any ability with talismans. As certain talismans have been traced back to your group, and as you have been granted core disciple status by the Exam, we suspect that you possess such a talent, but you have never openly displayed it.”

As he spoke, I could feel a small wave of anxiety drifting from him.

“As you have not demonstrated the necessary talents, the Master of the Lightning Peak has demanded that you be dropped to the rank of ungraded inner sect disciple. Once this became known, three other masters began suggesting that you should be allowed to transfer to their peaks as a grade 3 core disciple.”

I wasn’t sure why it was three masters, but I could sense a growing agitation in the elder’s voice.

“This has placed us in an awkward position. There are no provisions for you to transfer to a different peak, and many of the Lightning Peak’s elders feel that it would be wrong to punish such a talented disciple too severely. Therefore, you shall be demoted to the level of ungraded core disciple. Please note that this decision is final, and you will no longer be able to improve this position through the Exam.”

As usual, before I could respond, he vanished, leaving me alone with nothing but a stone arch for comfort.

Once we entered Earth City, I leased a small building where everyone would have plenty of room to cultivate.

Unlike when we entered Profound City, we didn’t have much to do here. This was just a stopover while we cultivated and waited for Jin ZiHan and Cai XiaoYu to join us, so we had spare time to spend on other activities.

One of the first things I did was visit the Metal Peak and run through the Trial to boost my metal affinity to peak four-star, maxing it out. After that, I considered going to the Lightning Peak, but I decided to hold off until I was a Peak King. I was somewhat leery of what the Master of the Lightning Peak might have planned for me there, and I wanted to arrive in top form to face it.

After that, I had to buckle down and spend most of my time generating contribution points to help everyone ascend to Martial Emperor as quickly as possible. LiTing and Meng LuYao started selling refined products to the sect, and Yan and JiaQi started accepting a variety of combat missions, but the points they could generate through these activities were a bit limited.

The sect only generated karmic energy from three dozen kingdoms, and with all the Martial Kings that wanted access to that energy, it sold for a sky-high price. To earn enough contribution points for all of us to advance in as short a timeframe as possible, we needed far more points than would be possible to generate from missions alone.

That was where the merchant associations came into the picture. The wealthiest merchants were cultivators who had reached Martial King or Emperor centuries ago, and they had been slowly hoarding contribution points ever since. Whenever, say, a talented alchemist rose up, they were able to use that stored wealth to purchase any and every pill that alchemist made. Before long, such an alchemist would advance to Heaven City, and the merchants would have a supply of high-quality pills to sell over the course of decades while they waited for the next such talent to appear.

To generate as much cash flow as possible, I needed to make Perfect Rank 5 pills. While I had previously been able to do this with the assistance of an Emperor-level will-lock, with my affinities, making such pills as a mere Martial King 1 was out of the question. So, I needed to make a purchase.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“System, permanently raise my wood, fire, water, wind, light, and dark affinities to peak five-star.”

Purchase confirmed. Cost 52,230,000,000 credits. 288,213,100,650 credits remaining.

With that, all my affinities with both the primary and secondary affinities were at least peak five-star, and I was able to easily handle any Rank 5 herb. This allowed me to make nearly anything in Emperor Li’s Rank 5 alchemy book, and what pills I couldn’t yet make were only a matter of practice.

After discussing the situation with the various merchants throughout Earth City, I was a bit surprised to learn that they weren’t overly interested in cultivation resources. Instead, since they would only be buying Perfect pills from me, they much preferred either common healing and energy recovery pills or more exotic and unique pills that were too difficult for the average Pill King to concoct.

The reason for this made sense after I thought about it. Most of the Martial Kings in the sect had reached their limits. They wouldn’t be able to advance any further, so cultivation resources were no longer important to them. They couldn’t gain any more power, so they wanted pills and items that could enhance what they already possessed.

This situation was perfect for me. It meant that most of the esoteric pills in Emperor Li’s book that I needed to practice to improve my skills were exactly what the merchants were looking for. This let me both earn contribution points and shore up my Rank 5 alchemy skills in concert.

In whatever time I had when I wasn’t cultivating or practicing alchemy, I worked on improving my proficiency with my soul visualization technique.

After years of practice, I finally reached the point where I felt I had the technique mastered.

When I used the technique to look at my soul, I saw a massive field of rolling multi-colored hills. Four flowers dominated the landscape: orchids, chrysanthemums, lotuses, and alliums. However, near the border of my soul, the bright reds of the alliums dominated everything else. While a few extra varieties of flowers had also taken root, these four were dominant.

Strangely, these flowers grew without a care for their natural environments. These lotuses grew out of the soil of my soul as easily as a mundane one would grow in water. This was because they were not true flowers. They were representations of the four philosophies I had been studying.

Near the center of my soul, there was a large garden surrounded by a thick stone wall. While the area outside this wall was a mix of vibrant colors, the area inside the wall was a disordered mess.

The landscape was mostly dominated by a massive cypress tree, and around its roots were dozens of small white jade stones that looked exactly like memory orbs. A riot of weeds grew in the shade of this tree and tried to hide these stones from view.

The rest of the inner garden was a mix of random plants that had been placed without a thought for what should grow where. There were bamboo shoots, small tree saplings, bushes, and flowers in a disorienting mix of conflicting colors.

Seeing the state of my inner soul in such turmoil made me anxious. Part of me wanted to use one of the sect’s techniques to try and tidy it up, to make the place more presentable. I could find a soul technique to uproot out-of-place plants and trim the various shrubs. Part of me wanted that, but the rest of me abhorred that idea.

My soul was who I was. It was the only piece of me that remained through the resets. I would not go about cutting it up with some random technique out of some vague sense of propriety.

Still, I could try to become a better me. Not through using technique to perform a soul lobotomy, but by approaching life differently and fixing myself naturally. That’s what I had wanted to do for a while now, after all. I might have had a few false starts, but if I kept trying, I could get there.

Shaking off these melancholic thoughts, I focused on the very center of the inner garden of my soul.

There, a bright green flame sat upon a small pedestal and burned with feverish intensity. A small black orb about the size of my fist sat in the middle of this fire. This orb was pure black, but as the light struck it from odd angles, it shimmered with a rainbow of colors.

This orb was my storage space. Soon, I would be able to inscribe this garden with a formation to grow the space inside that orb far beyond its current limits.

This wasn’t yet the time. I still needed more study and practice, but it would be soon.

While I worked on improving my soul technique, my friends and allies had their own projects.

As might be expected, any time Yan wasn’t cultivating, he was researching and studying the Zhuge Clan and, to a lesser extent, the other Sovereign clans. I had been able to talk him out of the idea of trying to rob them in this life, but he hadn’t given up on the idea. He had only delayed its implementation for a future cycle.

LiTing’s pursuits were a bit simpler. She was working to perfect her Rank 5 refining skills. Her goal was to be able to create memory orbs before we reached the Summit, but she would need to improve significantly before that would be possible.

As for her part, JiaQi was focused on learning more about beast taming. She had been able to help LuLu reach Rank 6 long ago, and she wasn’t yet ready to contract a new beast, but after returning to the beginning and having to start over as a Disciple again, she felt the need to learn more and advance her skills.

Finally, there was Meng LuYao.

I had noticed that whenever the rest of us were focused on practicing our profession skills, Meng LuYao tended to slip silently out of the building. At first, I didn’t think much about this, but after several months, I began to wonder what she was doing.

So, I followed her.

She walked a twisting route through the city, seemingly unsure where she was headed. As she walked, she weaved in and out of shops and storefronts in what appeared to be a way to throw off any pursuit, but it was done so clumsily that I doubted it would have any such effect.

Finally, she arrived at a small park that was little more than a pond surrounded by a few trees. It was one of the few green spots in the city.

I had expected her to be clandestinely meeting with someone, but instead, she took out an easel and art supplies and started painting. After watching for half an hour, I recognized the image she was recreating. It was the school I had formed with LiTing on the Path of Soul.

Unable to hold back anymore, I approached and walked up to her side. Meng LuYao showed no outward signs of being startled, but I could sense that my appearance had been unexpected.

After thinking for a moment, she reached over and tapped a formation plate on her box of inks and brushes. This created a small privacy bubble around us to block any eavesdroppers from listening in. Once it was in place, Meng LuTao glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.

“LiTing really did see you as ‘the Great Teacher,’ you know? You were a child her own age, but it seemed like you could do anything. The two of you learned about soul cultivation at the same time, but after only a few years, your knowledge had reached a level she couldn’t even begin to compare herself against. It turned you into something of an idol. For a time, she didn’t understand these feelings, but eventually, she came to see you as almost a figure to be worshiped. Learning the truth of how you knew so much at such a young age didn’t change those feelings, it only solidified them.”

I just watched as she continued drawing, unable to respond.

“It’s interesting. With my blessing, I can easily see that LiTing’s talent in refining, Yan’s talent in strategy, JiaQi’s talent in fighting, all of these, they are all far greater than any talent you possess. If things stay the same, then in a hundred years, you won’t hold a candle to any of them.”

She turned her head slightly and looked at me.

“But things won’t stay the same, will they.”

I gave a wry smile. “Few things do.”

She chuckled. “You would be surprised. For nearly everyone I’ve ever met, talents are stagnant. They never change. LiTing might have the greatest talent I’ve ever seen before, but it hasn’t changed one bit since the first moment I saw her. Only one person has ever been an exception to this rule.”

I raised an eyebrow. It was an interesting claim, but I didn’t trust her assessment. “If there is one exception, then there will be many.”

Her impassive face broke into a grin. “Exactly. So, Great Teacher, help me. I can see everyone’s talents, including my own. I have none.”

Her grin slipped and became melancholic, but she didn’t stop painting.

“Zero. I have no talent for anything. I thought LiTing’s memories would help, but no. I have all the knowledge of cultivation and refining she left me. I can mimic her skills, but I can’t learn anything new. I’ve tried learning the basics of alchemy, formations, beast taming, and herbalism. I can’t even understand the most basic skills. So please, Great Teacher, help me.”

I looked at her painting. It was extremely vivid and lifelike. The trees appeared to be swaying in the breeze, and the stones on the ground were cracked and weathered. During the time the rest of us had been studying our professions, LuYao had been studying painting, and she had reached an impressive level.

“No talents, not even in painting?”

She silently shook her head.

That seemed… wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. So, I reached out to the System to gather more information.

“System, improve Meng LuYao’s comprehension of painting by 100 credits.”

Processing… Unable to purchase such an enhancement with credits.

“Interesting…”

LuYao gave me a side eye but continued her work.

“System, improve Meng LuYao’s comprehension of human resources skills by 100 credits. Her knowledge of who to hire and fire.”

Unable to purchase such an enhancement with credits.

“System, improve Meng LuYao’s comprehension of cultivation techniques by 100 credits.”

Purchase confirmed. 288,213,100,550 credits remaining.

LuYao froze. Then, she set down her bush and took a seat in the grass.

“Thank you. It’s not much… but thank you.”

I sat down beside her.

She looked wistfully at the sky. “You know, when LiTing first came to me, I was scared, but the idea of becoming a cultivator… The idea that I could take charge of my own destiny instead of just waiting for someone to take a fancy to me and pull me into their household as a concubine… In the Pavilion, I never dealt with anyone beyond a Grandmaster. I thought that if I could just reach that level, then I would be free, but that’s not true, is it. All of you are far more powerful than I had even dreamt of, but you’re just as trapped as I was.”

Her words stirred up a few memories, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “When I first became a Grandmaster, I was killed by a single punch. The next time, I never even saw the person who killed me. Even as a King, I had to kill myself to avoid being enslaved, twice.”

I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “There’s always someone better. No matter how good you become, there is always someone better, and there is always a higher mountain to climb. I can help you learn. I can help you grow. I can’t help you become better than everyone else. There will always be someone better.”

She let out a soft sigh. “Then what’s the point? Why not just put it all aside?”

I thought back to a time not long after I first entered this world. “It’s an option. One that I considered once during a dark patch. But… I can’t. There’s… I don’t know why, but I feel a drive. I need to help… I just don’t know…”

I shook my head, dismissing depressing thoughts, and turned to LuYao.

“Recently, Ning ChenKun asked me a question. ‘What is your goal?’ I didn’t have a satisfactory answer. I still don’t. It feels like an impossible question, but you should think about it. If you find your answer, let me know. I’ll see what I can do to help.”

A small tear welled up in her eye. “Thank you.”

We sat there silently for a time, but as always, I soon left to cultivate and push myself ever onward.