Rain lashed the Blackcloud foothills like heavenly whips, turning dirt paths into rivers of mud. Lin Xuan moved through the downpour without cloak or complaint, water streaming from his long black hair and soaking the simple white robes he had taken from Wei Zhong's corpse. The fabric clung coldly to his skin, but he paid it no mind. Discomfort was merely data—useful only insofar as it sharpened focus.
He had left the rogue gu master's cave two days prior, traveling northwest toward the marked Thunder Vine lair on the map. The storm was inconvenient, but convenient too: it masked tracks, muffled sounds, and drove most beasts to shelter. Only the truly desperate—or the truly ambitious—hunted in such weather.
He was both.
Halfway up a narrow ravine, he paused beneath an overhang of jagged granite. From his aperture, he withdrew the Golden Cicada egg. It pulsed brighter now, the golden veins thicker after devouring the remnant soul. Infant stage still, but progressing faster than any normal gu could hope.
He placed a single mid-grade spirit stone against its shell. The stone cracked almost immediately, essence drawn in like breath into starving lungs.
"Drink," he murmured. "Grow. Become the key that unlocks everything else."
The egg warmed in his palm. A faint chime rang in his sea of consciousness—not audible, but felt, like the first crack of dawn after endless night.
[Golden Cicada Gu progress: 8% toward rank 1 awakening. Requires additional time-path essence and one sacrificial host for full maturation.]
Sacrificial host.
Lin Xuan's eyes narrowed. In his previous lives, he had fed the true Spring Autumn Cicada with the lives of enemies, allies, innocents—whatever was expedient. Quality mattered more than quantity. A strong cultivator's soul was worth a hundred weak ones.
He stored the egg again.
The storm showed no sign of abating. He continued upward.
Near the ravine's crest, the Thunder Vine lair announced itself before he saw it: the air crackled with static, hair rising on his arms. Bolts of pale violet lightning danced between twisted black vines that grew in a rough circle, each as thick as a man's thigh. At the center hung a cluster of thumb-sized purple fruits—Thunder Essence Berries, rank-two resource. Perfect for nurturing lightning-path gu or tempering the body.
Guarding them: three Thunder Vines manifest as semi-sentient plant-beasts, rank two middle stage each. Their tendrils whipped lazily, sparking on contact with stone.
Lin Xuan observed from cover.
Direct assault would be inefficient. The vines were fast, conductive, and numerous. One wrong step and his meridians could fry before he reached the berries.
He smiled thinly.
Inefficiency was for the living who feared dying again.
He withdrew the Shadow Crow Gu token taken from Wei Zhong. The crow had been dispersed when the pouch cracked, but the token still held its imprint—enough to summon a weakened phantom version.
He bit his thumb, smeared blood across the token, and circulated qi.
A half-transparent black crow materialized, smaller than the original, rank one peak at best.
"Go," he commanded.
The phantom crow took flight, darting into the storm.
The vines reacted instantly. Tendrils lashed out, lightning arcing. The crow dodged once, twice—then was clipped. It exploded in a puff of shadow smoke, but not before drawing the vines' attention to the eastern side of the clearing.
Lin Xuan moved.
He activated Moonlight Gu to its limit. His form blurred into near-invisibility under the rain and flickering lightning. Black Skin hardened his flesh against stray sparks. Venom Thorn coiled in his right hand like a living needle.
He slipped past the distracted outer vines and reached the central cluster.
One berry cluster hung low—ripe, glowing.
He plucked three with swift precision, storing them in his pouch.
The vines sensed the theft too late.
They converged.
Lin Xuan did not run.
He stood his ground as the first tendril whipped toward his throat.
Time Cicada pulsed.
Three breaths rewound.
The tendril halted, retracted.
He was already in motion—leaping onto the thickest vine trunk. His palm slammed down, Venom Thorn piercing deep into the fibrous core.
Green poison spread like ink in water.
The vine shrieked—a sound like tearing metal—and convulsed.
The other two lashed wildly.
Lin Xuan dropped, rolled through mud, came up with a second berry cluster in hand.
Another pulse of Time Cicada—another rewind.
This time he anticipated the counterattack, sidestepping a bolt that would have charred him.
He drove his elbow—reinforced—into a secondary root node.
Crack.
The second vine collapsed, lightning fizzling out.
Only one remained.
It reared like a serpent, gathering charge for a final, desperate strike.
Lin Xuan met its "gaze"—the glowing knot at its center.
"You fought well," he said quietly. "For a plant."
He extended his hand.
Golden Cicada Gu—responding to the ambient time distortion of repeated rewinds—stirred unbidden.
A single golden thread shot from his fingertip, thinner than before, but sharper.
It pierced the vine's core.
The plant-beast froze.
Then began to wither—not from poison, but from accelerated decay. Time itself leeched from its being, funneled back into the infant gu.
Seconds later, only blackened husk remained.
Silence fell, broken only by rain.
Lin Xuan stood amid the wreckage, breathing steadily. His robes were scorched in places, skin blistered from stray current, but nothing vital.
He checked the Golden Cicada.
[Progress: 21% toward rank 1 awakening.]
Satisfactory.
He harvested the remaining berries—seven in total—and carved out the cores of the withered vines. Lightning essence, valuable for future refinements.
As he prepared to leave, a new sound cut through the storm: the faint ring of a transmission gu.
He paused.
From Wei Zhong's pouch, a small communication bead glowed faintly—missed earlier in the chaos.
He crushed it.
A recorded voice emerged, calm and authoritative.
"Elder Wei, report status. Young Master Hao's life tablet shattered two days ago. If you live, respond immediately. If not… the clan will dispatch a rank-three enforcer team within the week. The trail leads to Blackcloud. Do not fail."
The message ended.
Lin Xuan regarded the crushed bead.
"A week," he murmured.
His eyes lifted to the storm clouds, as if addressing the heavens themselves.
"Then I have six days to become strong enough that their enforcers become my stepping stones."
He turned southwest—toward the abandoned gu spawning grounds marked on the map.
The rain continued to fall.
But now it felt less like punishment…
…and more like applause.
To be continued...