Mary Jones
Stories
11
Chapters
2,498
Words
2.2 M
Comments
0
Reading
7 d, 15 h
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Running a cultivator to exhaustion wasn’t that difficult. If forced to use qi, they could be out of energy within minutes. But running a cultivator to exhaustion without forcing them to use qi… well… that was a different story altogether. The Glass Shrub. A fabulous being of mighty, mysterious powers, one whose path had taken a Indeed, running a cultivator dry without forcing them to use qi was much more difficult. But it was much easier when a sadistic plant threatened to stab them. Hunter…-
71 •
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In a beautiful gazebo, sitting in a picturesque garden, six figures lounged in luxury, bathing in the goods of this world of wonders. They all had luscious, blonde hair, except for one figure with a striking pink mane streaked in crimson. Their bodies donned pearly white togas orned in golden decorations. A young man grabbed a grape off a table and ate it. He swallowed it, and rather than pleased, he looked severely disappointed. Hunter turned to the others. "Is it just me, or is the food here kind of…
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71 •
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He knew of his son’s earth-shattering martial prowess and had seen him fight someone on the third step of the platinum path. However, that was with his overwhelming advantage of well over a dozen spirit powers and an unending pool of life force, and in the spirit realm, none of them had either of those two advantages. Neave likely had strength above his rank, even without those spirit powers. With his consumption of treasures and monster flesh, that was to be expected, but it was mighty arrogant of…
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71 •
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While platinum path cultivators could still think while asleep, they could also choose not to. This time, Marven willingly relinquished his ability to think and allowed himself to rest. Once he woke up, there was no way to tell how long had passed. All he had to go off was the way he felt. It wasn’t long until his mind cleared, and he was back in reality. Given how good he felt, he must have slept for quite a while, and the sedative Neave gave them must have helped him relax considerably. Aware of…
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71 •
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The lovely tea flowed down Hunter’s throat. The gazebo allowed rays of sunshine to fall directly on his face as he absorbed the aroma. In his little corner, abandoned at that time, free of the politics and schemes of the sect elders, he basked in the warmth and comfort of the Zearthorn sect gardens. Red roses shimmered, blue orchids bloomed, and golden lotuses sang the glory of the sun. Suddenly, his heart hurt. With a deathly grip, he grasped at his robes, unable to breathe. The outline of his veins…
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71 •
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Marven looked at the improvized sword, noticing the bending and tearing it had endured after he used the massive technique. It wasn’t a big deal; the blade could last longer, and Dukean could fix it in seconds if needed. However, even if he had the Glass Shard, he wasn’t confident he could face this crisis. All they could do was run. Before their eyes, the demon absorbed piles of limbs and grew with every piece of flesh that sank into its body. What stood before them could only be described as a…
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71 •
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Gabrias stood frozen, waiting for the puppet to move. Anxiety was already setting in, as it hadn’t moved even a bit for minutes. What was happening? Was the glass brush busy with something else, thus incapable of manipulating the puppet? That wasn’t good news. He was naked and alone on the surface and utterly defenseless without the puppet's help. Maybe he could take the Glass Shard, but he definitely didn’t want to make it angry when it came back. So he settled for shivering and anxiously…
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71 •
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All around them, they could hear the sounds of slithering, scurrying, sneaking, and demons outright rushing toward them. Some were subtle and insidious, while others seemed to have a more straightforward approach to life. Marven sweat profusely as he got into a battle-ready stance. He had access to qi techniques this time because his weapon resembled a sword enough, but that didn’t change the fact that their current situation looked quite hopeless. He had struggled mightily to take out a single demon…
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71 •
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Several demon bodies lay strewn around the cavern, shredded to bits by floating shards of glass. This had been a common sight for a while. An all-present being—a plant whose roots spread through every wall—kept ritualistically dispatching demons whenever they entered its territory. And there was nothing they could do once they were trapped. This time, however, one had managed to survive, still lurking, hiding in the shadows. Observing. A familiar air of intelligence permeated its actions as an invader…
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71 •
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Neave rarely, if ever, truly acted his age. It was hard to say what his age even was, to begin with. Was he eleven? Or did all the years stuck within the loop count? Who was to really say? Perhaps it depended on social interaction, maturity, and stuff that couldn’t be developed in total isolation—let alone in a horrid hell realm of infinite death and suffering. Or perhaps, even more simply, it just depended on one’s biological age. But if one went purely off behavior at that moment, Neave was…
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71 •
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