A desolate forest stretched beneath a sky torn open by thunder.
Lightning split the heavens at irregular intervals, striking ancient trees and setting them ablaze. The wind howled through charred trunks, carrying ash and the metallic scent of rain. Rain poured down in sheets, hissing against burning bark and turning the earth below into a mire of mud and ash.
Yet despite the chaos above, the people within the forest did not retreat.
Dozens of cultivators worked across the scarred land, digging through mud and broken stone. Their tools rang against earth and buried debris, each strike driven by urgency rather than comfort. The storm above was dangerous—but what lay beneath the ground was worth far more.
This was no ordinary forest.
It was the outer perimeter of a forbidden excavation zone, ruins long buried beneath collapsed formations and fractured spirit veins. For months now, the Lin Clan and the Mei Clan had been mining the area in secret, searching for one thing rumored to lie beneath the soil.
An immortal relic.
Because if even a fragment of an immortal's inheritance could be unearthed, it would elevate their entire bloodline beyond rival clans for generations.
And so they endured the storm.
Ding.
A sharp metallic sound rang unnaturally clear amidst the thunder.
One of the miners froze.
His shovel had struck something.
Not stone.
Not bone.
Metal.
His breathing slowed. Carefully, he tapped again.
Ding.
The sound was hollow… deliberate.
His partner immediately halted and closed his eyes, spiritual sense extending downward into the earth. The chaotic spiritual energy of the storm made sensing difficult, but beneath the soil there was something.
Cold.
Dense.
Ancient.
When he opened his eyes, excitement blazed within them.
Without another word, both men dropped to their knees. They abandoned tools entirely and began clawing through the mud with their bare hands. Dirt and broken stone scattered as their fingers scraped against something solid.
Moments later, they uncovered it.
A small rectangular box.
It was no larger than two palms stacked together. Its surface was dark and corroded, yet no crack marred its structure. Strange patterns faintly covered it that were eroded over the centuries underground, but not entirely erased.
One of the men wiped the mud away with trembling hands.
There, barely visible, was a single word.
Most of the letters had faded.
But enough remained.
IMMORTAL.
The man's heart thundered louder than the sky above.
Without hesitation, he rose into the air, clutching the box tightly to his chest, and shot toward the distant encampment established near the excavation zone. Several nearby cultivators, having witnessed the discovery, abandoned their posts and followed him into the storm-dark sky.
"Is it the one?" someone shouted over the wind.
The man did not slow. "I think so."
Then, lowering his voice as they descended toward a massive reinforced tent below, he added, "Do not inform the Mei Clan about this for now."
The others exchanged sharp glances.
The Mei Clan.
Their so-called allies.
In matters of immortal relics, alliances were fragile things.
They landed near the tent and entered swiftly.
Inside, two senior cultivators were sorting through relic fragments retrieved over previous weeks: broken spearheads, shattered formation plates, and fragments of statue limbs carved from spirit stone. Most were worthless debris from a collapsed ancient structure.
But when they saw the box…
Silence fell.
No words were necessary.
They immediately led the group to the circular teleportation array engraved at the center of the tent. The lines of the formation pulsed faintly, ready for activation.
The miner stepped onto the center node.
Another cultivator removed a glowing spirit stone from a pouch and placed it into the array's core.
Light erupted.
In a single breath, they vanished.
This was a single-time-use long-distance teleportation array that could allow them to travel in the shortest time.
They had carved it here in case of such moments.
...
Not long after, two figures rushed into the tent, robes whipping behind them.
"Where is the item?" one demanded sharply.
The cultivators remaining inside did not appear flustered.
"It has already been sent to the base."
The newcomers' expressions darkened instantly.
One of them exited the tent and produced a compact communication device, a modern artifact forged with both technology and cultivation principles. He pressed a concealed rune and spoke in a low voice.
"The Lin Clan has found something. Likely the immortal relic. It has already been secured."
He paused.
"We were too late."
The transmission ended.
The storm continued.
...
At the Lin Clan's inner base, the teleportation array flared once more.
The miner stumbled forward, still clutching the box, and rushed toward the elders' compound without delay.
He burst into a private chamber.
"Seventh Elder, we have found the immortal relic!"
The elder had been seated in quiet meditation. His eyes snapped open in irritation at the intrusion.
But when he heard the words…
He vanished.
In the next instant, he stood directly before the group.
"Show me."
The box was presented with trembling hands.
The Seventh Elder took it slowly, his fingers brushing the ancient metal.
A faint tremor passed through him.
"Well done," he murmured. "This is a merit beyond measure."
Without another word, he disappeared again.
The cultivators who entered were feeling good hearing this, but before they could even reply, the elder vanished from the room, leaving behind the confused cultivators who just looked at each other, wondering what to do next.
...
He reappeared before the clan's ancestral mansion, a sprawling structure of dark stone carved with protective formations.
Inside its deepest chamber stood a statue nearly ten meters tall.
It sat in lotus position, robes flowing in stone-carved elegance.
Yet its face was blank.
No eyes.
No mouth.
No identity.
Before the statue stood another white-haired elder, long-bearded, and studying intricate patterns etched across the chamber walls.
"Fifth Brother," the Seventh Elder said, voice tight with excitement. "The relic is here."
The Fifth Elder froze.
Hearing someone enter the room, he was about to say something, but his mouth paused with the word "immortal relic."
His eyes widened, and he ran to the elder.
"Where is it? Let me see. Let me see."
The seventh elder took out the box; seeing the box, a look of anticipation appeared on the fifth elder's face as he carefully opened the box.
Inside lay a simple brush.
No jewels.
No inscriptions.
Only an ordinary writing brush—wooden handle, pale bristles.
But the instant their eyes fell upon it, the fifth brother's knees buckled as immense pressure descended, but it was not hostile, rather absolute. Both of them were alerted, and the seventh elder immediately steadied him.
The fifth brother, after carefully standing and using his qi to negate the effects, marveled, "What a powerful suppression! Even dormant, it carries will! This certainly is the immortal relic."
The fifth brother then hurriedly placed the brush at the statue's feet. After that, he took out around a hundred glowing spiritual stones and placed them beneath the relic.
The ritual began.
As both of them were contemplating, the chamber started to tremble. The whole city where the Lin family was situated was covered in dense black clouds. It didn't take long for them to rumble, as if responding to the activation below.
The hundreds of spiritual stones placed below the box started to shimmer, and as if their composition had changed, they liquified like glowing streams of water. They flowed upward, merging into the statue.
Slowly…
The blank face began to change.
A nose formed.
Then lips.
Then the faint curve of brows.
The elders watched in awe.
Their clan's destiny was unfolding before them.
The elders below became happy seeing the changes, but as it was going smoothly, everything suddenly stopped.
The spirit flow halted mid-motion.
The forming facial features froze, incomplete.
The brush began to rise from the statue's feet.
Seeing such a change, the elders looked at each other. Just as the fifth elder reached for the floating box in front of the statue and extended his hand to take it.
A second hand appeared.
It emerged from empty space itself.
Seeing someone unknown enter the room and trying to steal the relic, both of the elders became angry.
It closed around the brush.
"Impudent!" the Seventh Elder roared, drawing a blade from his spatial ring and slashing downward with full force.
But to their surprise, the corporeal-looking hand, after taking the brush, just waited there even with the blade coming its way and passing through the hand.
The hand did not retaliate.
It simply examined the brush.
As though confirming something.
It flicked the brush away.
The brush shot forward with unimaginable speed.
A deafening explosion tore through the chamber wall. Stone, formation arrays, and reinforced barriers were obliterated instantly.
The brush vanished into the storm-dark sky.
The hand lingered for a moment and then slowly began to fade.
Only then did realization dawn upon the elders.
It was not a thief.
It was the owner of the brush. The will of the existence whose relic they had disturbed. The elders looked down; the ancient box had already crumbled into fine dust.
Outside, thunder rolled once more.