All Chapters of IMMORTALS INFINITE PATHS: Chapter 31
- Chapter 40
44 chapters
New Faces
The sun hung low in the horizon, painting the mountains in hues of amber and crimson. Shafts of dying light filtered through the bamboo fence, streaking across the courtyard stones where Duō Yī sat in silent meditation. The world was hushed, save for the steady rhythm of his breathing and the distant cry of cranes retreating to their nests.Slowly, his eyes opened. The glow of the setting sun reflected faintly in his blue pupils, a reminder that time had moved on while he had remained still. Drawing in one final breath, he exhaled the remnants of scattered thought, rose to his feet, and brushed the dust from his grey disciple robes.It's time.The promise of the meeting earlier lingered in his mind, Hú Lì's cheerful voice from earlier in the Mission Hall, the pat on his shoulder, the glint of excitement in his eyes. With unhurried steps, Duō Yī left the courtyard behind and walked down the stone path that wound toward the eastern square.The sect at sundown had a rhythm all its own. L
Baptism of Fire
Loud voices echoed across the mountainside, a chorus of anguish that rolled like thunder. Some were sharp with panic, others low and guttural with despair. Wails bled into hoarse cries, the sound carrying far enough that even disciples outside the peak cast wary glances at the crimson-lit skies above the Body Refinement Division.On the peak itself, the scene was a vision of torment. The stone courtyard had been transformed into a furnace. Heat shimmered from the ground, distorting the air like waves rising from molten rock. Dozens of new disciples, those who had passed the trial of the steps were scattered across the ground. Some lay unconscious, their bodies twitching with spasms; others knelt trembling, sweat pouring from them in rivulets as they fought to remain upright.The source of this suffering was not hard to find. A massive basin-like formation carved into the peak glowed with furious light. Within, hot stones burned bright orange, veins of magma-like qi running through the
Tempered by Frost
The days blurred into weeks, each one seared into memory by fire. Boiling oil, smoldering coals, blazing stones, steam so hot it clawed at the lungs, such had been the disciples reality since the moment they first stepped into the Body Refinement Division. The trial was merciless. By the end of each day, some stumbled away half-conscious, others were carried, their bodies red and blistered. And yet, they always returned.For the young cultivators, survival itself was proof of progress. To last a single week of the Division’s training was already enough to mark them as different from ordinary mortals. To last three? Their bodies bore the beginnings of change.Today, once more, they assembled on the stone courtyard. Familiar faces were fewer now ,several had already been removed, deemed unfit, their paths cut short. Those who remained stood in thin training robes, their bodies scarred by heat, their hair singed or gone entirely. Among them, Tian Yīn was now bald, the proud silver locks
Dú Huà Liàn Tǐ
For the next month, the courtyard of the Body Refinement Division became a crucible of extremes.There was no rhythm to their torment. Some days, they were roasted until their skin blistered, drenched in boiling oil, or pressed against stones hot enough to burn flesh from bone. On others, the world froze around them, their lungs clawed by air so cold that every breath felt like swallowing knives. Dawn to dusk, the trials never ceased, and never once could they predict what awaited them when the instructors arrived.The disciples called it hell. Yet even in hell, seeds began to sprout.Their bodies, once frail and mortal, had begun to change. Muscles grew denser, bones heavier, skin tougher. One by one, the fruits of their suffering revealed themselves.It was Tian Yīn who first broke through.The bald-headed youth had always carried himself with unshakable confidence, his once-flowing silver locks long gone to the flames. On the twelfth morning, as the heat bore down upon them, he sud
The Path Ahead
The hellish training in the Body Refinement Division had continued without pause, days bleeding into weeks, weeks into months. Time was merciless. Before Duō Yī realized it, the three-month window he had promised Hu Li had arrived.In the stillness of his residence, the faint scent of sandalwood lingered from last night’s incense. Duō Yī sat cross-legged upon a straw mat, his posture upright, his breathing deep, slow and steady. His eyes which were closed in meditation fluttered open as sunlight slanted across the courtyard wall, dyeing the air with shades of gold.Before him floated a faint screen of light, a construct that only he could see. His gaze falling on the words etched on it.[Name: Duō Yī][Race: Human][Status: Damaged Soul (X)][Realm: Qi Gathering Realm (4th Stage)] [Mortal Flesh I][Life Span: 13/80][Abilities: HIVE][Skills: {Fundamental Elemental Fist}, {Qi Flow: Optimization Techniques}][Elemental Affinity: Null][Energy Reserve: 300/300][Current Replicas: 1/1][
The Weaving of Threads
Lanterns glowed faintly in the courtyards, their flickering light casting long shadows across the paving stones as disciples of the White Crane Sect moved about. The clang of sparring from the training grounds had faded into the night, replaced by the murmur of voices, the fragrance of steaming rice, and the distant notes of a zither from some patient practitioner of the Music Hall.Duō Yī walked steadily toward the eastern pavilion, the hem of his robe brushing against the stones. His breathing was even, but his thoughts were not idle. The mission ahead loomed larger in his mind with every step.When he reached the pavilion, three familiar figures waited beneath its curved tiled roof.Hú Lì noticed him first, waving broadly with his usual lack of restraint.“Brother Yī! Right on time again. Reliable as ever.”Duō Yī gave a polite nod as he stepped into the lantern’s glow. Beside Hú Lì stood Xiǎo Yǔ, twin tails swaying as she shifted from foot to foot, and Zhāng Wei, solid as an iron
Into Mortal Lands
The sun rose slowly over the peaks of the White Crane Sect, spilling golden light across its tiled roofs and stone paved courtyards. Mist drifted lazily through the valleys, parting only when flocks of cranes soared from their roosts, their cries echoing faintly in the mountain air.While other disciples gathered in the training squares to begin their morning routines, four figures were already on the move. The mountain road leading east wound downward, framed by bamboo groves and pines, and along it rolled a sturdy carriage drawn by two black-maned horses.At the front, reins in hand, sat Zhāng Wei. His posture was straight, calm, the sort of man who seemed born to endure long miles without complaint. Each flick of his wrist sent the horses forward with steady rhythm.In the carriage’s back, Xiǎo Yǔ leaned against a crate, her twin tails swaying as she shifted restlessly.“So unfair,” she muttered, poking her cheek with a finger.“I thought cultivators were supposed to fly on swords
The King’s Plea
“Up,” Zhāng Wei’s voice cut through the misty dawn like a blade. He was already on his feet, rolling his blanket with crisp, disciplined motions. Behind him, the embers of last night’s fire smoked faintly, refusing to die.Hú Lì groaned as he stumbled out of the carriage, hair jutting wildly in every direction. “Do mornings always have to come this early?”“Time waits for no man,” Zhāng Wei said flatly, cinching the horse’s harness.On the ground, Xiǎo Yǔ stretched like a cat, her twin tails flicking through the mist. She yawned so wide her voice came out half-slurred. “Senior Brother Hú, you complain too much. Didn’t you once boast about wrestling a Copperback Boar barehanded? What’s a little morning dew compared to that?”“That was different,” Hú Lì muttered, glaring at her. He flung an arm at the mist clinging damply to his robes. “The boar was warm. This is just cold.”Duō Yī remained silent, fastening the last strap on his pack. His eyes lingered on the fog curling over the river
The Silent Harvest
Zhāng Wei’s eyes snapped open.Something was wrong.The stillness of the palace chambers pressed too heavily, the air carrying faint tremors that prickled against his skin. He sat up swiftly, nudging the others awake.“Ughhhh, what is it now?” Hú Lì groaned, rubbing his face, hair sticking up like a bird’s nest.“Shhhh,” Zhāng Wei hushed, his tone low, sharp. “Do you feel that?”“Feel what?” Xiǎo Yǔ mumbled, still curled up with her blanket, rubbing her eyes.“Qi fluctuations,” Duō Yī answered before Zhāng Wei could. His gaze was fixed on the window, eyes narrowing. “Although faint, it’s unmistakable. Someone’s weaving a spell.”That sobered them instantly.Hú Lì rolled to his feet, snatching up his weapon, a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth though his jaw was tight. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go see what bastard thinks he can hide in the shadows.”They slipped into the night.The palace courtyards lay wide and empty, cloaked in mist. Beyond, Jiāng Lí’s streets stre
The Cauldron of Blood
"Ughhhhh"Duō Yī’s eyes fluttered open.Darkness pressed down all around him, thick and suffocating. He tried to move, but something cold and damp constricted his body. He looked down, translucent vines coiled around his arms, chest, and legs, pulsating faintly with ghostly light. Each throb carried a chilling rhythm, like a second heartbeat not his own.He tried to summon his qi.Nothing.It was as if the very air smothered his core, chains pressing against his meridians, sealing his strength shut. Panic surged through him as he tugged against the bindings to no avail.Then the sounds reached him.Low groans. Whimpers. The faint, broken cries of men, women and children. His eyes adjusted to the gloom, and what he saw twisted his stomach.The missing mortals were strung along the cavern walls, suspended in vine-like cocoons. Some still writhed weakly inside, their faces pale as their life drained away. Others were packed into cages of bone and vine, the bars slick with moisture, thei