"With how far you've dragged us… that blood-burning secret technique, your breath-concealment method, and the way you move… it's no wonder you've reached such attainment. You're a genius."
"And for a genius, it would be a pity for you to die here."
"So, I've decided to offer you a seat within our great cause, a path for salvation from the heavenly way."
"With your talent– such talent, the lord without a doubt will nurture you."
The leading figure stepped forward with a slow, deliberate gesture, his arm extending outward in invitation.
His tone softened, as if trying to coax a stubborn horse, "It's a waste for someone like you to rot away in this barren corner. Come with us. You'll be rewarded generously for the jade box… the lord will tru—"
"I refuse."
The man's words were cut short.
Lucien turned his face toward them, no hesitation in his expression.
Both his hands firmly held the jade box. He smiled lightly, not out of arrogance, but as if their performance bored him.
Especially the way how their words sounded off, they were rather ominous. To that, Lucien knew that whatever force stood behind these lunatic, he wouldn't want to be involved in such a huge mess.
"Your killing intent is practically dripping," Lucien said, eyes steady. "Do you think I'm a child? Bunch of fools."
"You—!"
Lucien flipped the jade box open with a soft click, tilting it slightly in one hand as if testing its weight.
With casual confidence, he reached in and pulled out a severed stone hand, the statue's fingers still curled around the card.
He held it up for them to see, the corner of his lips lifting in that same placid smile. "This thing… seems awfully valuable to you, doesn't it?"
"As if your life depends on it, huh?," Lucien's smile deepened, noticing the subtle shift from them.
"Boy… Don't you dare—!"
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
His smile widened, not in a maniacal way, not out of amusement, more like someone watching a bad gamble fall apart. "And what if I do?" he asked. "What exactly are you going to do about it?"
"We are practically acquaintanced with each other already, no?."
"How about a silly joke?."
"What do you think a desperate dying person will do once he is cornered?."
"You!!!"
The leading figure pointed his finger, clearly disturbed by Lucien's words.
But then, they stopped.
Their expressions shifted in a flash. A tremor ran through the group as they registered something. Something behind Lucien.
Barely, like a quite crept of a growing vine, they felt a strange suffocating feeling from the cavern's walls.
"W-wait… this cave?"
"Yes. Took you long enough to realize." Lucien turned his head slightly, just enough to give the hulking shadow behind him a single glance.
He then looked back at them, his tone flat. "It's a monster den."
"And monster, mindless, likes to hunt something that moves, something like... "
"You," Lucien dropped the final whisper.
He raised the statue's hand higher, as if offering a toast. The card in its grasp reflected the dim glow of the cavern.
His other arm opened wide, as if welcoming them in. "So, savor this moment with me," he said, voice calm, "and die a slow, miserable death."
Then, as if to answer his call.
Shriek!
Shriek!
Shriek!
Dozens of high-pitched cries echoed from deep within the cave.
The black-robed figures froze, only for a moment, but their instincts kicked in. Jaw clenched, one of them barked, "We're leaving! Now!"
They turned.
Bolted.
Robes fluttering, the taste in the air thickened.
The once invisible "fragrance" of blood filled the entire place, and then, they knew it...
But it was already too late.
From nearly every corner of the cavern walls, shadow worms began to crawl free, hidden till now, their bodies had blended into the gloom.
Dozens of them. Fanged mouths opened wide as they dropped down in a coordinated frenzy.
The humans were foolish enough to enter their nest. The worms had no intention of letting them leave.
The robed figures struck with everything they had, bursts of spiritual light flared, spells pinched and drawn in a desperate attempt to clear a path.
For a moment, the air vibrated with the pressure of Foundation Building cultivators unleashing their strength.
Their full might!
Though...
It didn't matter.
Something bigger was already moving.
A low hiss shook the walls as a massive shadow worm, at least 5 times the size of the others, stirred.
It slid overhead, passing just above Lucien, its enormous frame casting a deeper shadow over the already dim cave, and lunged directly toward the black-robed cultivators.
One of them caught a glimpse and spat out a curse. "That brat used the breath-concealing technique again!"
Then another snapped, eyes bloodshot behind the mask, voice trembling with fury, "You think I won't drag you to hell too, boy?! DIE!"
Without warning, one of them spun around and charged at Lucien.
Lucien's face shifted. Cold sweat prickled the back of his neck.
He couldn't move, not without breaking the concealment technique. If it collapsed, the worms would immediately mark him as prey too.
The cultivator closed in, palm raised high, its glow humming with spiritual power.
"Die with us!" he roared.
The palm came down.
Lucien's instincts roared louder.
In a blur, he kicked backwards and lunged, his hand grabbing the attacker's wrist.
His other hand still clutched the statue's severed hand, the card gripped within it.
But as the hand was inches from his head...
The worms behind him twitched. A new scent. A new presence.
They hadn't noticed this one before.
Lucien's fingers, in that brief clash, brushed against the card held by the stone hand.
"Go to hell you bastard!," he roared, eyes fierce...
However, fate wasn't for him to decide in this abandoned world.
Something shifted.
A spark.
A moment.
Fate...
Mortals had always clung to it.
Especially when they had nothing left to believe in.
But truly, long, long ago... humanity had already been forsaken by the heavens.
Fate, once an unbreakable chain, had snapped. What remained now were choices, raw and untethered.
Lucien lived by one core belief: no human could be shackled by fate, not even himself.
So, with each breath, every heartbeat, and every passing second in this world… everything was a result of his own choosing.
This path!
The one that led him right to today!
"This is my own choice!"
Ding.
Like a pebble dropped into still waters, the space around him rippled.
The air twisted unnaturally, his vision blurred, and just like that, without even noticing, his figure vanished.
The black-robed figures, standing silently nearby, smiled. Not a cruel smile, not mocking. It was a sincere, fulfilled smile.
Their role was complete.
Inside the cavern, where Lucien had once stood, his body and the card he touched vanished together. In their place, a piercing white light erupted.
Question: What happens when a group Foundation Building cultivators self-destructs?
Answer: Run. Run far, and run fast.
Boom!
The explosion tore through the canyon with the weight of a falling sky. A deafening clap echoed like a divine thunderstrike.
A blazing cocoon of light burst outward, swelling violently before collapsing into a massive mushroom cloud that climbed high into the heavens, punching through the clouds themselves.
The cavern was immediately blown to pieces, killing everything inside it.
The red mist churned madly, scorched as if alive, and deep in the chasm, something ancient stirred.
A slumbering giant awakened as a huge pair of eyes unfolded.
The world blinked.
And suddenly, the perspective shifted.
Lucien found himself standing, barely, in pitch darkness. His legs trembled as he fought to steady himself, his arms limp at his sides, chest heaving.
A glow flickered in his eyes, faint and brilliant at once, but it did little to help him see. Shadows stretched in every direction, unbroken and suffocating.
His brow tensed as he teetered slightly, then glanced at the card in his hand, the same one he had touched before vanishing.
"...This thing brought me here?" he muttered, voice hoarse, "What the hell?."
His gaze lifted cautiously, sweeping the surroundings. What met his eyes was a void without end, jagged terrain scattered in all directions, and strange, probing senses brushing against him from far off, just at the edge of perception.
"What is this place?" he whispered again, barely audible.
His foot dragged forward. Stumbling.
His body was wrecked, half-crippled, bleeding dry, nearly collapsed. And yet, he forced himself onward.
He had already pushed past his limits, and then some. Forbidden techniques had torn through his flesh, and he had used them more than once.
The blood loss, the fractures, he was walking death.
And yet… he was alive. For now.
Relief didn't fill him with confidence. It just meant he had a few moments to breathe.
As for exploring this strange place? That thought didn't even cross his mind. All he wanted now was to get out.
But staying still wouldn't fix anything. And wandering aimlessly, in this state, would be suicide.
Still, since there was no immediate threat chasing him, Lucien reached into his bag with trembling fingers and pulled out a small bottle.
He popped the cork, brought it to his lips, and swallowed a few pills all at once.
Moments later, warmth surged through his veins.
The broken bones in his legs snapped back into place. Muscles once torn were stitched back together by spiritual energy.
Even his internal flow, stabilized slightly, gathering strength.
There were only ten pills in that bottle. Now there were seven.
Three had been spent just to bring him back to full functionality.
And their origin?
"...According to the records I've studied, there are no pills like these documented anywhere," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing faintly. "I found this bottle deep in some forgotten ruin before…"
His voice trailed off.
Even now, he didn't fully understand what kind of power he was relying on.
But at this moment, none of that mattered.
He was alive. He had chosen this path.
"Just where the hell am I?"