Cultivation Nerd: Chapter 218 (Patreon)

Chapter 218 - A Rumbling Between Ages

"Did something happen?" I asked my grandfather as he came to sit on the porch beside us, sighing heavily.

"No, and that's the problem… nothing has happened," he said, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at the cloudy sky. "By now, armies of monstrous beasts would be smashing against our walls, dying by the dozens. But none of the scouts found a single trace—no fur on trees, no tracks, no corpses."

A heavy silence hung in the air after he said that. Everyone knew that strange things happening was usually not good news. No doubt by now, some people might be wondering if this city would be just another statistic of one of the places destroyed by monstrous beasts.

It was strange, almost unnatural. It was as if all the monstrous beasts—and even the regular animals—had suddenly vanished from the nearby territories managed by the Liu Clan.

There were few animals out and about in winter, but never none.

"We asked the neighboring clans, and they reported the same," he continued, his expression shifting slightly, "In the end, we may have to cooperate with our rivals."

His face twisted at that last part as though he'd bitten into something bitter.

"What's so bad about that?" I asked. "In this case, the more eyes on the problem, the better it should be for all of us."

"Yes, until they stab us in the back," my grandfather replied bluntly. "Do you think it's that simple? This rivalry has lasted for centuries. They've killed many of ours, and we've killed even more of theirs."

He sounded irritated, but something else caught my attention.

Why wasn't he angrier? Usually, he'd be railing about how this was the perfect time to have the Clan Head meet with an 'accident' or pushing me to take over. The fact that he wasn't was… unsettling. It made me wonder if he was planning something behind my back. A civil war within the clan would be the final nail in our coffin.

It was almost as if he'd forgotten those ambitions entirely.

"Anyway, with all that's happening, an old man can't help but worry," he said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "I want to see how good you really are, shake some rust off my old bones. I'd rather not lose my grandson in the coming war, so if you're not good enough, you need to improve—and do it fast."

"Just don't go too hard on him," my mother chimed in gently. "With battles around the corner, we don't want him injured before he even steps on the field."

She knew she had little power to change his mind, but this was her subtle way of intervening.

My father put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and nodded. He looked worried but seemed to believe I'd be fine.

Yet, it wasn't my parents' reactions that troubled me; it was my grandfather's. No matter how well someone's intentions were hidden, actions always revealed the truth.

My grandfather's actions now didn't fit the image of a greedy brute willing to incite a civil war just to take over the Clan and eliminate the current Clan Head, who happened to be his nephew.

Grandpa stood, stepping into the soft snow and leaving a trail of footprints as he walked toward the gate. When he reached it, he turned back, calling, "You coming or not?"

"Yes, of course," I replied, rising to follow him.

Whatever his true intentions were, only time would reveal them. There was no point in worrying about it now.

On my way to the gate, I glanced at Wu Yan and said, "Keep practicing until I return."

Side by side, my grandfather and I passed through the gate, and then his figure vanished—moving with a gust of wind in what seemed to be a movement technique. It was intended to enhance both speed and stealth, though the latter effect was only partial; I could still sense his presence.

Without hesitation, I activated my own movement technique and pursued him.

His technique appeared like an Earth Grade technique, but it was actually a personal adaptation based on his understanding of the wind element. It mimicked the power of an Earth Grade technique but lacked the refinement of a true one. Techniques like these could never reach the same mastery level as those that achieved a "trace."

Soon, I was just a step behind him as he swept across the roofs of the commercial district, finally leaping toward the central well in town.

Luckily, no one was using it. The well looked like something from medieval times, with a stone ring around it and a small roof above. My grandfather disappeared into the well, unseen by any bystanders. I had to wait a moment for a clear opportunity to follow him without drawing attention. The last thing we wanted was for anyone to suspect something had happened to the water.

That concern was for later, though, as darkness closed in, leaving only a small circle of light above like a shining beacon. Using Qi to sharpen my vision, I could make out a large, roughly-hewn cavern below, with a river channeling water in and another carrying it out. A smell lingered in the air, like algae and something sweet I couldn't recognize.

Just before landing on the water, I formed a translucent jade platform beneath me, hovering as I approached where I sensed my grandfather's presence.

The water radiated a cold wave, and I felt the cold on my skin even though I wasn't touching the water. Though it had lost most of its Qi, this place couldn't have been just some random cave.

Beside the river was a vast cavern, large enough to resemble a football field. Perfect for a sparring arena—though we'd have to avoid explosive techniques to keep the cavern from collapsing on us.

"You're fast," my grandfather noted, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. "Is it you, or just your technique?"

"It might be the technique," I replied with a shrug. "Why don't we find out?"

He smiled; despite everything, this old man liked a fight.

I could quickly have overtaken him at the pace we’d set if I knew where we were headed. But I wasn’t here to show up my grandfather. I’d let him have his small victories—he was an old man, after all.

“So, what now?” I asked, glancing around the dim cavern. The only light source was the thin beam streaming down from the well, casting a faint shimmer on the water below.

“Well, I brought you here to test your strength,” he replied, his voice calm in a way I hadn’t expected. “This way, I’ll know what kinds of missions you’re ready for and where I might need to pull some strings to keep you from harm.”

For a moment, I thought he might launch into a grand speech about me being the destined Clan Head or something equally dramatic. The setting certainly had that kind of atmosphere.

“Well, this place is definitely better than our small yard for sparring,” I said, though I couldn’t help adding, “But I’m a bit concerned about cave-ins if we go all out.”

“Don’t worry about that. This place is sturdier than it looks,” he reassured me. “Look closely—can you tell what this place is?”

Scanning the walls, I noticed repetitive marks.

“Judging by the patterns, it doesn’t look like a natural formation. But they’re not marks left by pickaxes or chisels, either. Whoever made this likely used a large-scale technique to carve it out quickly,” I observed, noting the unnatural geometrical shapes in the walls.

“Not a bad assessment,” Grandpa nodded. “Now, how and why do you think this place came to be?”

Was this supposed to be a sparring session or a quiz?

“I’m no rock guy, but I’d guess it was either an abandoned spirit stone mine, a secret chamber or vault, or maybe a tomb. There are a few other possibilities, but these seem the most likely. It could also be a hidden shelter, but if that were its sole purpose, I’d expect it to be a bit better constructed.” I said.

This could have also been the hideout of some secret cult. But even that would have made the place better built unless this was just where they gathered the victims they were about to sacrifice.

“You’re on the right track,” my grandfather nodded approvingly. “This place served as something of a tomb for our clan founder, who was a peak Core Formation cultivator!”

He announced that last part dramatically as if it were a grand reveal. Though clan legends spoke of the founder, many stories were exaggerated, and few considered them grounded in fact. The average clan member took pride in those stories and at the thought of having a Core Formation ancestor. However, no one knew for sure.

But I’d already verified the founder’s cultivation level during my conversation with the Blazing Sun Sect Leader, who had mentioned it when describing my ancestor’s legacy.

“Anyway, enough talk. Get ready for a fight,” my grandfather said, and in a burst of swirling wind, he vanished from his spot.

He was the one who’d started all the chatting. I was just here for the ride.

Even though he was hidden by his technique, the darkness here wasn’t exactly to his advantage. I couldn’t see him, but I doubt he could see me well either, so we both had to rely on our Qi senses.

Tracking the faint Qi trail he left behind, I noted that his movement traced a thin, winding S-pattern.

His speed was good but not particularly impressive for someone of his cultivation level. By the time he reappeared before me, aiming a punch at my gut, I could’ve had time to drink a cup of coffee… metaphorically, of course.

I stepped back, dodging easily. My grandfather took a deep breath, and suddenly the wind shifted around me, like a swirling vortex coming out of his mouth, pulling me toward him.

He didn’t hold back, using the momentum to bring an elbow straight toward my throat.

Dodging wasn't an option with his base speed far surpassing mine due to our cultivation difference. His techniques weren't anything impressive either, but he knew how to use them somewhat well.

As his elbow neared my throat, three layers of sponge-like barriers materialized, absorbing the impact of his arm. Instead of resisting, I moved with the momentum, flipping upside down and pointing a finger at him.

Falling Moon Claw!

A muted wind blade shot from my fingertip, aiming for his chest.

Rather than dodging, my grandfather swung his fist, shattering the invisible wind blade. Not surprising, given that I wasn’t going all out; it was more a signal that I’d hit my target and could have escalated if needed.

“What’s with that weak attack?” he asked, frowning. “I heard Liu Qian say you’d mastered the Falling Moon Claw she sent you. But what is this?”

I raised an eyebrow. Was he trying to provoke me, or did he truly not understand the purpose of that weaker strike?

I swung my hand again, and silence hung in the air momentarily as if nothing had happened.

Then, with a burst of power and a thunderous sound, a massive, invisible wind blade shot toward him, cutting through the air and releasing a beautiful song.

I could control it well enough to stop it before it caused him any real harm, but I was now showing him a glimpse of my actual skill.

His frown deepened, and he quickly raised his hands, focusing all his Qi into them in preparation.

If this were a real fight, I would have thrown more wind blades at his undefended limbs and throat.