Journey of the Immortal’s Cultivation

07. Mysterious Voice

Wu Tian’s eyelids fluttered open, heavy as stone. A dull ache throbbed at the back of his skull, and dizziness clouded his vision. For a moment, the world swam in disjointed fragments—shadows, faint light, the rustle of leaves. Slowly, his sight adjusted, and the forest around him seemed gentler than before, its menace softened by the silvery glow of the moon.  

He realized he was lying not on damp soil, as he remembered collapsing upon, but atop a bed of leaves carefully arranged beneath him. The air smelled faintly of moss and earth, yet the ground was strangely warm, as though someone had prepared this place for him.  

“Who moved me here? Where am I?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.  

Blinking against the haze, he noticed the mouth of a cave nearby. Its interior glowed faintly, as if lit by some hidden source. He lay upon stone flooring, positioned deliberately before the cave’s entrance.  

Then, a voice drifted out from within.  

“Well? You’ve awakened, young one?”  

The sound was melodic, clear as a bell, carrying an almost soothing cadence. Wu Tian stiffened, his heart pounding.  

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice trembling between suspicion and awe.  

“Shouldn’t you already know?” the voice replied, lilting with amusement. “After all, you came here searching for me.”  

Wu Tian’s breath caught. “Impossible… you can’t be the Witch Beast!”  

A soft laugh echoed from the cave, playful yet unsettling. “And what, pray tell, do you imagine the Witch Beast to be?”  

Wu Tian’s brow furrowed. “The Witch Beast must be terrifying. If it weren’t, cultivators wouldn’t fear it so deeply.”  

Another laugh, lighter this time. “Then why is it that you, unlike all others, do not fear the Witch Beast?”  

Wu Tian’s chest tightened. He spoke with raw honesty, his voice cracking under the weight of his pain. “Everyone fears the Witch Beast, yes. But I… I no longer care whether I live or die. I’ve endured endless humiliation, even from my own parents. Fear has no place left in me.”  

The voice grew quieter, almost contemplative. “And what business brings you to seek the Witch Beast, child?”  

Wu Tian hesitated, then confessed. “At first, I wanted to drain its energy, to repair my broken dantian and meridians. I thought if I could absorb its qi, I might finally cultivate. But now… now I no longer wish to harm it. The Witch Beast has done me no wrong. Why should I treat it with cruelty, as others have treated me?”  

Silence followed, heavy and profound. The forest seemed to hold its breath. Then, the voice spoke again, softer, almost approving.  

“Ah… I suspected from the start you were not like the others. You are kind at heart. That is why I saved you from death when the forest’s aura nearly consumed you.”  

Wu Tian’s eyes widened. “Wait! You saved me? Then… who are you?”  

The voice chuckled. “You already know who I am. There is no need to ask again.”  

Confusion gnawed at Wu Tian. Could this truly be the Witch Beast? The legends never spoke of a voice so gentle, so melodic. The stories painted the creature as monstrous, savage, incapable of speech. Yet here, in the depths of the Forbidden Forest, a voice spoke to him with warmth.  

“Impossible,” Wu Tian muttered. “Your voice is too soft, too human. You sound like a young woman. You cannot be the Witch Beast feared by cultivators across the land.”  

He sighed, exhaustion weighing upon him. “Please… don’t toy with me. I’ve suffered enough tonight.”  

If this voice belonged to the Witch Beast, then he would draw it out, force it to reveal itself.  

“Tell me then,” the voice teased, “what do you believe the Witch Beast looks like?”  

Wu Tian’s imagination conjured the tales he had heard in Hu Nan. “The Witch Beast is a sorcerous monster, hideous and merciless. It drains cultivators of their qi until nothing remains, perhaps even devouring their corpses afterward. That is what people say. But one thing I know for certain—the Witch Beast cannot speak with a voice as beautiful as yours.”  

A delighted laugh rang out from the cave. “How fascinating! I never realized the Witch Beast was so terrifying in the minds of Hu Nan’s people. No wonder none dare approach this forest. Yet I assure you, I never spread such rumors myself.”  

Wu Tian frowned. “You didn’t need to. The stories spread on their own. But tell me—who are you really?”  

The voice giggled softly, evasive. “Still curious, are you?”  

Wu Tian’s frustration mounted. His body felt heavy, unresponsive. He realized with alarm that he could not move his limbs. “I cannot rise. My body… it feels sealed. Did you strike my pressure points? If so, I have every right to ask who you are!” His tone carried both anger and desperation.  

The voice answered calmly, “I had to be certain. I needed to know you were not a wicked cultivator seeking to steal qi. Only then could I decide whether to help you.”  

Wu Tian’s temper flared. “What cultivator would dare enter this forest? They all fear their qi will be drained! And how could they steal qi they cannot even locate?” His voice rose, frustration spilling over.  

The unseen speaker did not relent. “There are always fools who act recklessly. You yourself are proof—though you lack cultivation, you still dared to enter this suffocating forest. Even as the aura crushed your lungs, you pressed deeper, desperate to find the qi you sought.”  

Wu Tian’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “I have no qi, so I fear nothing from the Witch Beast. If anything, it should fear me. Now, release me from this binding, young lady!”  

The voice laughed again, teasing. “Young lady? Are you so certain I am youthful? Perhaps I am an old crone, wrinkled and frail, blessed only with a pleasant voice.”  

Wu Tian smirked faintly despite his exhaustion. “Very well then, Grandmother. If you are truly an old woman, would you kindly undo the seal upon my body?” His words carried a subtle edge of mockery, though his tone remained oddly respectful.  

The cave fell silent for a heartbeat. Then, the voice erupted, sharp and indignant.  

“You…!!!”