Cultivation starts with picking up attributes
Chapter 108: Ch-108: I Don’t Like This

Chapter 108: Ch-108: I Don’t Like This

The main hall of the Feilun Sect was a towering chamber of polished jade and carved spiritwood, its ceiling painted with constellations and great celestial beasts.

The light filtering through spirit lanterns shimmered like moonlight, casting the assembled elders in shifting hues of silver and green.

Feng Yin and Tian Shen stood quietly near the center, flanked by Elder Su and a figure clad in the signature robes of the Azure Phoenix Sect.

Lian Hua.

Her robes were cloud-white and pale blue, embroidered with the image of a rising phoenix.

Her hair was bound in a single, elegant braid that fell over one shoulder. She was calm, poised, but there was something strained in the corners of her eyes.

Sect Master of the Feilun Sect sat on the elevated dais, framed by his elders. He was a man of immense spiritual presence, his beard finely trimmed, and his eyes like still lakes—deep and unshaken.

"I appreciate your visit, Lian Hua," he said with a faint smile.

"Your reputation precedes you. But if your purpose is to stir panic, I must caution you—the Central Region is not so easily shaken."

Lian Hua bowed respectfully.

"My intent is not to stir fear, Sect Master. But to warn you. What we faced in the Eastern Region was only a fragment. The true threat lies farther west."

She unfurled a scroll, revealing a rough map.

Markings denoted shifting power zones across the Western Wastelands. Strange sigils drawn in black ink pulsed faintly with dark qi.

"This is not a rogue sect. It’s a movement. They call themselves the Void Hand. A faction of remnant Demon Sect elders has merged with warlocks from the Wastelands and formed pacts with ancient spirit beasts believed long extinct. Some believe they predate even the Great Sects."

A murmur spread among the elders. Elder Fan, a stoic man known for his work with elemental formations, raised a brow.

"Even if these beasts exist, the Central Region has endured worse. Our formations are strong. Our alliances deeper than ever."

Elder Yu, responsible for external affairs, nodded.

"And you claim this Void Hand remained hidden all this time, only to appear now? Seems speculative."

Lian Hua met their gazes without flinching.

Tian Shen stepped forward.

"I can vouch for the eastern remnants. When we destroyed the Demon Sect’s stronghold, we found traces—scrolls, even rituals—all referring to a demonic source. They were not self-made."

Feng Yin added.

"The way the Demon Sect operated, the resources they had, the curses they used... someone far older, and darker, was guiding them."

Sect Master stroked his beard.

"You speak convincingly. But the Central Region has long been protected by the balance of the Top Sects. Even if a threat stirs, it must first break through this balance."

Lian Hua’s tone sharpened.

"You assume they’ll strike from outside. What if they’ve already infiltrated?"

That gave the room pause. Elder Su finally broke her silence.

"We’ve seen techniques that do not belong to any known faction. Illusions crafted from ancestral demonic arts. Tracking wards bound to the bones of extinct species. They are already experimenting within our borders."

A heavy silence followed.

Still, the Sect Master smiled.

"Lian Hua, I admire your resolve. But for now, let us treat this as a matter of caution, not crisis. I will instruct a team of scout disciples to investigate further. Until then, let us not sow fear in uncertain soil."

Lian Hua bowed again, though slower this time.

"Very well. But do not wait too long. They do not strike like armies. They spread like rot."

...

Later that afternoon, in a quiet garden courtyard lined with plum trees, Feng Yin sat with Lian Hua under a wooden pavilion.

Tian Shen and Little Mei stood nearby, the fox spirit lazily spinning a strand of hair while keeping a sharp ear.

"You knew they wouldn’t listen."

Feng Yin said softly.

Lian Hua nodded.

"I had hoped... but the Central Sects have grown complacent. They believe the Wastelands are beyond consequence."

Tian Shen crossed his arms.

"Then we prepare without them."

Lian Hua looked at him.

"You think it’s that easy? You are not strong enough to even be the pawn in this game of power."

Feng Yin looked up at the pale blossoms falling through the air.

"Then we will train harder. And wait... not idly, but ready."

Little Mei stretched, her tail flicking.

"Guess I won’t be bored after all."

...

That evening, Feng Yin met with Elder Su in the meditation hall, the soft hum of barrier talismans enclosing them.

"How you think about it?"

Feng Yin asked.

"Hmm, dunno. But I think it won’t be that much of a threat."

Elder Su replied carefreely.

Feng Yin exhaled slowly, saying nothing much else.

Elder Su looked at her for a long moment. Then smiled.

"You’re no longer just the young mistress of a northern sect, know that well."

Feng Yin didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t have to.

...

Three days later, a coded message arrived from a border village in the southwest.

A scouting party of the Feilun Sect’s disciples had gone missing.

All that remained was the battle area, charred with a huge hand print stretched and hollow.

Lian Hua stood beside Tian Shen, the talisman in hand.

"They’ve started."

Feng Yin, watching the horizon from the highest peak of Feilun Sect, whispered to the wind.

"Then let us see how deep the rot goes."

The fire kindled in the Eastern Region had not burned out.

...

The wind howled across the central borderlands, sharp with the scent of scorched earth and silence.

Tian Shen crouched by a jagged ridge, fingers brushing the blackened ground.

The handprint left behind by the vanished scouting party was massive—four meters wide, stretched and warped like some grotesque imitation of a human hand. Its edges shimmered faintly with residual dark qi.

"Even now I can feel the heat," he muttered. "Whatever did this, it wasn’t long ago."

Feng Yin stood a few paces behind, her eyes narrowed. Her robe billowed slightly in the wind, the talismans woven into her sleeves reacting with a soft hum.

"There’s no blood," she said. "No remains. Just this."

Elder Su stepped beside her, silent, her gaze tracing the horizon.

The terrain was open—no mountains to hide in, no caves, no ancient forests. Just open badlands, cracked and wind-blasted.

Elder Su said eventually.

"They were taken down in one move."

Little Mei sniffed the air from her fox form, her silver fur standing on end.

"It doesn’t smell right. It’s like... something swept through and erased everything."

Lian Hua knelt beside Tian Shen, eyes fixed on the imprint.

"This isn’t just demonic. It’s ritualistic. The way the energy lingers—it wasn’t left by accident. It’s a mark. A message."

"A warning?"

Tian Shen asked.

Lian Hua shook her head.

"No. An invitation."

Feng Yin’s jaw tightened.

"Then let’s follow it."

They spread out across the area, combing the land for any trace—an energy trail, a spiritual imprint, even a discarded artifact.

Hours passed.

But nothing was found.

Drowsy circled above but gave no cry of alarm. The world below was quiet... too quiet.

"It’s like they were never here," Little Mei muttered. "Like something wiped them clean from the world."

As the sun began to set, casting long, blood-colored shadows over the wasteland, the team regrouped at the edge of the canyon.

Elder Su tapped her fingers against her staff.

"We’re missing something. They left a trace—intentionally. But no path."

Lian Hua nodded slowly.

"It’s bait."

Feng Yin turned sharply.

"To lure us in?"

"To keep us guessing."

Lian Hua corrected.

"This is psychological. They want us unsettled. They want the Sect Master second-guessing. And they want us wasting time."

Tian Shen frowned.

"And it’s working."

They returned to Feilun Sect late that night, wind-chapped and empty-handed. The scouts remained missing. The land gave no answers.

The Sect Master listened quietly as they reported. Throughout, his expression was calm.

"Continue observation."

He said.

"But do not escalate. We won’t move on shadows."

Outside the hall, Feng Yin shook her head.

"We saw the darkness in the Eastern Region. And this is worse..."

Lian Hua leaned against a stone pillar, arms folded.

"We have no proof. No trail. And until someone sees the rot for themselves, we’re chasing ghosts."

Tian Shen stared out over the training fields. The disciples sparred and laughed under the moonlight, unaware of the unseen threat pressing at their borders.

"I don’t like this," he muttered.

Neither did anyone else.

...

The next day, Elder Su led a team of investigators back to the border—but the battlefield had changed.

The handprint was gone.

The blackened ground was clean, as if scrubbed by divine force. No scorch marks, no qi residue.

Even the ridge Tian Shen had touched the day before was smooth and unmarked.

"It’s as if it never happened," a disciple whispered.

The unease grew. Elder Su scoured the area through her Spiritual sense, but they returned dull and inert. No trace of spiritual movement. No residual energy. Nothing.

Feng Yin paced the meditation pavilion when they returned, tension coiling in her chest.

"They’re mocking us. Hiding just outside our reach."