Immortal Refiner

In late autumn, Yun Province’s capital fell, leaving the northern front of Maple Country in a precarious state.

Marauders from the Grassland Tribes continued their relentless rampage, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake.

The Martial Artists of Falling Cloud City in Yun Province had fought fiercely to defend their city when the Marauders breached its walls, but they were ultimately overwhelmed by the relentless tide of iron hooves and perished in battle.

The entire city was engulfed in flames, the raging inferno threatening to reduce everything to ashes.

Tuwa Ha’er sat astride his horse, his remaining eye fixed on the scene before him. The dark depths of his gaze reflected the fiery sea ahead.

”Go, retrieve that Martial Artist’s sword,” Tuwa Ha’er commanded, pointing toward a shattered street where the corpse of a Martial Artist still clutched his longsword tightly.

Any Jianghu expert present would immediately recognize it as a renowned Peerless Divine Weapon: Moonshadow Mistfrost!

A subordinate retrieved the sword from the burning street and presented it to their leader.

”The Maple Country people’s skill in forging weapons is truly remarkable. This is yet another weapon that meets the Immortal’s requirements,” Tuwa Ha’er murmured, stroking the famous blade with satisfaction.

That night, the Marauders camped outside the city, resting and preparing for their assault.

Under the cover of darkness, Tuwa Ha’er emerged from his tent, holding the Moonshadow Mistfrost he had acquired that day. He walked to a tent some distance from the main camp.

He bowed low, a respectful expression on his face—an unexpected sight for the Great Chieftain of the Grassland Tribes.

”Immortal, I have obtained another weapon that meets your requirements today.”

A calm voice replied from within the tent: ”Bring it in.”

Inside, an elderly man with disheveled hair and wearing a yellow robe sat cross-legged in meditation. His aura was strange and unsettling.

Tuwa Ha’er entered without even daring to raise his head. He humbly presented the longsword with both hands, as if offering a tribute.

The Yellow-Robed Old Monster took the sword, examined it briefly, and a satisfied smile spread across his face.

”Excellent. This is indeed another nascent Magic Artifact. With a bit more refinement using spiritual energy and the inscription of array patterns, it might even qualify as a low-grade Magic Artifact.”

”Now, what do you want in return? Talismans or Qi Blood Pills?”

Tuwa Ha’er didn’t fully understand the Yellow-Robed Old Monster’s first statement, assuming it was something only those in Immortal Cultivation would comprehend.

Tuwa Ha’er clearly understood the significance of the Yellow-Robed Old Monster’s next statement. Both the talismans and Qi Blood Pills had played a crucial role in his earlier unification of most of the Grassland Tribes.

”Immortal, this time I wish to exchange for a method of Immortal Cultivation!” Tuwa Ha’er said humbly, a deep longing burning in his eyes. Though a mortal, he was deeply drawn to the mystical arts of cultivation.

The Yellow-Robed Old Monster frowned, then spoke calmly, ”As I said before, you possess no Spiritual Root. You have no hope of ever treading the Immortal Path. Moreover, at your age, even if you could cultivate, you wouldn’t get far.”

”It would be better to simply choose a superior mortal Martial Arts technique and practice it in conjunction with the Qi Blood Pills I gave you. Perhaps you could achieve something worthwhile that way.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Tuwa Ha’er’s eyes. Unwilling to give up, he asked, ”Immortal, is it truly impossible to cultivate without a Spiritual Root?”

”Yes. In this matter, the Heavenly Dao is fair,” the Yellow-Robed Old Monster replied coldly. The emergence of a Spiritual Root is as ethereal and unpredictable as the wind. It defies all logic and pattern. Whether you are born noble or humble, if you lack a Spiritual Root, you simply lack it. The Heavenly Dao shows no favoritism based on status or rank.

Perhaps a country bumpkin’s son could possess a Spiritual Root.

Of course, a saying has long circulated in the Immortal Cultivation World: offspring born from Immortal Cultivators are more likely to have Spiritual Roots.

However, this remains unconfirmed and unproven—merely a rumor.

Even so, the cultivation clans of the Immortal Cultivation World have chosen to remain isolated, rarely interacting with the mortal realm. They fear their descendants might develop romantic feelings for mortals.

To ensure their clans’ prosperity and the consistent birth of descendants with Spiritual Roots, they must seize even the faintest possibilities.

This is why true Immortal Cultivators are rarely seen among mortals. Besides the scarcity of spiritual energy, this is a crucial factor.

In essence, immortals and mortals are fundamentally different.

For Immortal Cultivators, lifespans stretch to hundreds of years, and they can fly through the skies, escape the earth, and wield wondrous magic. From a fundamental level of existence, they are vastly different from mortals.

Tuwa Ha’er lowered his head silently, but he still spoke with a hint of hope: ”Immortal, I still desire a Cultivation Method. Perhaps my future descendants will possess this Spiritual Root aptitude?”

If nothing unexpected happens, he would soon conquer the northern region of Maple Country, the greatest achievement ever accomplished by the Grassland Tribes.

At that point, he could establish his own kingdom. Even if his descendants couldn’t endure for ten thousand generations, they could at least thrive for a dozen or so. And if any of his future offspring possessed the aptitude for Immortal Cultivation, that would be a stroke of good fortune.

The Yellow-Robed Old Monster understood Tuwa Ha’er’s aspirations to some extent. He sighed and finally nodded, saying, ”Very well. Gather two more of these Magic Artifact prototypes, and I will teach you the Immortal Cultivation method.”

At these words, a glint of excitement flashed in Tuwa Ha’er’s eyes, revealing his deep joy.

”No problem, Immortal! Thank you for your immense kindness!”

The Yellow-Robed Old Monster waved his hand, adding, ”Remember, under no circumstances must you send your troops into Small Jade Ridge!”

”And no matter what, you must never reveal my existence. Do you understand?”

Tuwa Ha’er nodded repeatedly, placing his hand over his heart. Without asking why, he pledged with utmost loyalty, ”Rest assured, Immortal. I will follow your instructions to the letter!”

”Very well. You may leave now.”

With these words of dismissal, Tuwa Ha’er bowed respectfully and retreated from the tent.

Emerging from the tent, he gazed at the full moon hanging on the horizon, a look of confidence gleaming in his single eye.

Next, he would slow down his advance on the capital. He planned to divert some of his forces to Maple Country to hunt down Martial Artists and gather the special weapons they wielded.

Maple Country was practically under his control. He expected the Maple Country Royal Family was already preparing to flee south.

From this day forward, he would divide Maple Country along the Small Jade Ridge, ruling the northern and southern regions separately.

The Small Jade Ridge was a treacherous mountain range, its towering peaks and deep valleys riddled with dangers, making military operations incredibly difficult.

Moreover, the Immortal had warned him never to let his troops cross the ridge.

He not only sought to become the founding emperor, establishing a vast legacy for his descendants, but also to ensure his offspring had the opportunity to become Immortals.

If an Immortal Cultivator emerged from his lineage, they would gain entry to the mysterious Immortal Cultivation World.

Everything would change!

He knew he wouldn’t live to see that day, but he hoped his descendants wouldn’t carry the same regrets he did.

”I will be a legend of the grasslands. From ancient times to the present, who can compare to my achievements?”

Tuwa Ha’er closed his single eye and murmured softly.

(End of the Chapter)

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