[Short Story] Broken Chains Yet The World Is A Cage (Patreon)

Elder Broken Chains, though the disciples called him Elder Chains when they thought he wasn’t listening, resisted the urge to sigh. He wasn’t the oldest immortal, but he was one of the few that still remembered when breathing wasn’t a sickening experience for the so-called “ruler’s of the world”. Most preferred to erase those memories as they only brought sadness.

He waved his hand and the gathered inner disciples below were dispersed. It hadn’t been his choice, but he was the fact everyone knew and so the other elders and ancestors shoveled all the blame onto him. For the tenth century in a row, the available slots for new disciples to join and more importantly to those who had been protesting, the chances to face tribulation and advance had been reduced.

Broken Chains shook his head as he once again headed into his immortal cave to cultivate. Some would call him a hypocrite, but those below immortality couldn’t possibly realize the difference. Though he is taken out of his thoughts as the sight of a thin glimmer of an ash-like substance has filled the cave.

A nasty surprise and there was only a small chance that it was directly caused by someone sabotaging his cave’s formations. More likely was that some disgruntled disciple passed on a method to cultivate or someone finding some hidden legacy and shared it. The formations to keep out the pollution that had taken over the world required constant strengthening and excessive amounts of power.

Broken Chains can’t help but wish for the days of his youth when anyone with a spirit root would be grabbed up and given a chance to cultivate. Back when a farm child could stumble into a hidden cave and after inheriting some long gone elders path, be able to bravely advance step by step until they became immortal. Now those ancient cultivation techniques are hunted down and entire kingdoms killed to prevent that knowledge from spreading.

A wave of his hand and the formation key for his cave was rendered visible. This time he does sigh, though is careful to not actually breath in, instead using some power to replace the air he used up. There wasn’t anything wrong with formations and that meant either the ancestors decided they needed more of the dragon vein’s power or someone was going to need to get the devil cultivators to kill some more.

It felt wrong and without some mental gymnastics would have broken his Dao Path. Still, with every passing decade, he could help but sympathize with those old monsters. Because they all were old monsters at this point.

The devil cultivators had long ago been reduced to just those who were already immortal. With their beliefs and methods of cultivating when the source of the pollution was revealed, they all activated various plans. Since lower stage cultivators were the cause, those old devils no longer saw any use in having their own sects.

Broken Chains was honestly surprised that more of the so-called Orthodox sects hadn’t gone down the same route. Instead, most of them are now limping along as the various immortals restricted the number of new cultivators with every passing year. Even people with high-quality spirit roots, once in a decade constitutions, and those from long time cultivation families were being denied the chance to cultivate, to advance.

He could understand. Each new immortal represented the world becoming more stagnant, the ash-like dust that only immortals could see more ever present, and made it that much harder for heavenly treasures to appear. Sure, earthly treasures were just as unaffected by the ash as mortals were. It is unfortunate that such things have no effect on immortals.

Broken Chains could remember the immortal bane ash first showed up. At the time, the devil sects were blamed as it seemed to originate from their lands. They didn’t even deny it at first as each of their sects believed it was one of the others who had done it.

The immortal devil cultivators even thought of the ash as a boon. Sure, if the immortal bane ash gets into your body, even when brought in from simply breathing, it would tarnish your cultivation. This, however, didn’t affect them much. Immortal devil cultivators tended to already go around with their bodies sealed as backstabbing was more common than saying hello.

Plus, back then when the planet was saturated all it took to repel the immortal bane ash was any formation. Even the simplest of dust repelling formation would keep it out. Then the ash was found in even the most prestigious of Orthodox sects.

At that point, the devil cultivators really fell over themselves to claim responsibility. Though this quickly fell away as the immortal bane ash kept appearing in more and more places. Broken Chains shook his head as he remembered how quickly the immortal bane ash seemed to spread back then. Little did they know that instead of spreading, the immortal bane ash was simply surfacing.

In just under two million years, the entire atmosphere from the deepest pits to the highest heavens was saturated. Though who knows how long it took for the world’s core to be saturated first? It did explain why there never seemed to be any immortal beasts coming up from the depths, despite there being records of this having happened in the past.

The density of immortal bane ash beneath the surface must be great enough for even mortal cultivation to be affected. On the other hand, it also meant that with enough time even the most powerful of immortals can fall to the stuff. Broken Chains once again felt like sighing.

To think cultivation itself would end up causing its own end. All this pollution and mess, cultivation was the source. For eons people had been advancing, each step of the way releasing impurities. At first a black sludge, then a dark water and finally as one transcends mortality, the last bit would be breathed out as a grey mist.

People had, at various points attempted to figure out exactly what it was and where it went. In the end, though, most were foiled by the fact that these impurities seemed to vanish after a time. Even if kept within a sealed box the material would dissipate.

This wasn’t just mortals doing these tests. Immortals had a hand in it. Except before the ash surfaced, it never stayed dense enough for even them to track. Now, even days after someone breaks through, there will be a much denser cloud of immortal bane ash hanging around.

Broken Chains hadn’t personally been a part of those experiments, but a friend of his had. That friend was thought to have taken all his secrets to his grave with him. Maybe it would have been better if he had.

If others knew what he did, there would be no more mortals. In fact, there would be nothing left with a soul or easily capable of gaining one. After all, when the devil cultivators were perfectly willing to kill their sects, cults, and families to the last babe, there would be no stopping them finishing the job.

Because it isn’t just breaking through that releases the impurities. Every being with a soul would slowly release the impurities. Though Broken Chains’ friend had suspected they weren’t actually impurities in the first place. After all, with the senses of an immortal, it was easy to see that the gunk came from seemingly nowhere.

This wasn’t stuff like lead being extracted. Though admittedly during the first stage of cultivation that is focused on the body, that kind of stuff is expelled. Just not when you breakthrough. Rather, such toxins are slowly released over time through more organic and natural methods. After all, it wouldn’t be all that healthy if you forced stuff like lead and mercury through your pores.

So whatever the impurities were, they weren’t physical impurities and everyone was releasing them. Those devil cultivators, upon learning this would undoubtedly start a killing spree. Even fellow immortals would be safe. As it was, they didn’t target each other because it was accepted knowledge that an immortal had already released all their impurities. Better to keep them around to keep the world in order.

Broken Chains felt death breathing down his neck every moment since learning of this and had been searching for an answer. Of course, he wasn’t the only one searching for an answer. It was a never ending search.

Some tried to delve deeply and few who did ever returned. So once the actual source of the immortal bane ash was found people stopped trying. Broken Chains, much to his shame, was too scared to try that path as there might be some secret to the density down in the core.

Broken Chains has personally oversaw trying to leave the world. The seven heavens above were only somewhat metaphorical. There wasn’t any defined set of layers in the sky, but it did slowly change the higher you got. Sure, it did get more dangerous, but that was just because the air was thinner and the sun harsher.

The problem was no one had figured out a way to leave. At the edge of the heavens, there was a strange layer of energy that protected the world from the true dangers of the empty space beyond. He had gone outside that layer only once. Of course, despite calling it empty space even in his own mind, Broken Chains remembers that one trip and the fact it wasn’t empty, that immortality might not be the end of the path.

This knowledge was another weight on his mind. When first setting out on his path, Broken Chains had been part of the biggest generation of cultivators in both recorded history and any mythical era except the very first. Too many of the elders at the time, it seemed that even with the general tendency for even immortals to die after a time there would come a time when the world was full of cultivators.

Some might have complained about there being fewer resources, but that didn’t seem to stop people from advancing. At one time, certain sects had to put up special sound canceling formations around their tribulation stages or else thunder would constantly be rumbling. Now those same formations have been removed to prove that the sects are actually allowing people to advance.

Maybe if that trend had been allowed to continue then Broken Chains would feel comfortable looking for a new world. If only there were thousands of immortals to draw upon! Maybe at that point there was a chance. Not that he truly believed this. After all, a thousand immortals against one of those beings out there would be like a handful of loose sand against a rock. Without teamwork, it would simply be a suicide mission and immortals tend to be a little full of themselves.

Now, even if the ancestors realized this, it was too late. Maybe others will have missed it, but Broken Chains had personally delivered the report. Immortal bane ash wasn’t just the bane of immortals. It was the bane of cultivation in general. With each mortal generation, a measly decade, the number of people born with a spirit root was falling.

In fact, it had been doing so since before they started reducing the number of new disciples. As for why this wasn’t noticed before, he had brought it to the ancestor’s attention? It was happening in an insidious manner. Instead of reducing the total number of people with spirit roots overall, it affects the population from the bottom up.

At this point, it was actually harder to find a trash tier spirit root than it was to find a once in a year prodigy. Maybe if it only affected the lowest tier, the problem could be managed. It wasn’t, though. With each century, higher tier spirit roots begin to reduce in number. This reduction hasn’t reached the prodigies, but only a fool would assume that this pattern wouldn’t continue.

Some might see this as an alright trade off, that those lower tier spirit roots are a fine sacrifice. If anything, it meant there were fewer people capable of cultivating and increasing the density of the immortal bane ash. They were fools. Broken Chains and the ancestors knew the truth. The difference between a good spirit root and a bad spirit root is how much time it takes to cultivate to immortality.

Even the trashiest of spirit roots can allow a person to cultivate to immortality. In fact, those who suffer through the journey tend to be the most stable of immortals. An easy enough to see fact when you realize over half of all ancestors in the orthodox sects had normal or worse spirit roots. The devil cultivators don’t have this, but mostly because their methods focus on shortcuts and a trash tier spirit root needs a stable foundation to go far and live.

If they wanted to make an immortal army to conquer the heavens above the heavens, Broken Chains would much prefer to spend thousands of years to raise up a group with common spirit roots instead of hoping that an immortal who has lived less than even a single millennium would be stable enough to face those horrors.

Broken Chains settled onto his meditation mat and before entering closed cultivation, thinks back on his recent task, that of getting a feel for the current world. The most obvious was that the ocean was a wasteland. A land that was once brimming with monster cultivators in such numbers that if they had turned their eyes towards the land it would be over for the various sects. Even after diving deeper than any immortal who wasn’t invited had before, there wasn’t a single monster, just normal fish.

The lowlands weren’t much better. Though in that case, the mortals were actually helped by this matter. With fewer and less powerful monsters, the forests could be logged, farmland expanded, and new lands opened without the help of a sect. A good thing as even mortal cultivators were starting to feel uncomfortable in the land’s bread basket.

Still in the lowlands, there were a few special areas to check and all showed signs of degrading. Poison swamps had started to lose their bite, lands of extreme cold started to become bearable to even normal mortals, fire fields had started to go out, and so many other areas with similar signs. Then finally was the mountains.

Oh, the mountains. The taller, the more dangerous. In fact, some of the missing ocean creatures who could survive out of water could be found there. Though that made complete sense. Animals always had better senses and so the peaks were now packed with their cultivating counterparts, the monsters. The higher the peak, the more dangerous with only those already claimed by sects being monster free.

Not that even that will keep them safe for long. Broken Chains’ sect had a plan and he was sure others had similar ideas. So, while their peaks still protected their immortal owners from the encroaching danger, they were preparing to lift the entire mountain range into the sky. They wouldn’t be the first sect in history to have a flying base, but the cost was enormous and so few ever kept it up for long.

This did give Broken Chains hope that maybe the invigorated research into flying devices might lead to something that can survive above the heavens. Though as he considers this, he shakes his head. Maybe in a hundred years something will have happened to grant him true hope. For now, though, Broken Chains activated a final formation to wake him up once the century had passed and closed his eyes, his body reduced to a state similar to a statue.