Su Min was quite surprised by this divine flame. Heaven and Earth Divine Flames were unique—only one of each kind could exist. Though they weren't ranked in superiority, they were exceedingly rare.
Almost immediately, Su Min's figure vanished.
When she reappeared, she stood before a hidden military base facing the ocean. With a simple sweep of her spiritual sense, she detected numerous Foundation Establishment-stage mutated beasts lurking nearby.
"A training ground, huh? So she's here—let's see how she's doing."
Her figure dissolved into the air, effortlessly slipping past the base's defenses. The complex detection arrays were useless against her. This world's foundation was weak—these formations had been set up by Nascent Soul cultivators, making them as transparent as glass to her Dao Comprehension-stage perception.
But soon—
"Hmph, still not convinced? We were in the same batch, yet you're still stuck at late-stage Foundation Establishment. And the rest of you—come at me together!"
A cold, almost gleeful voice rang out, followed by a chorus of pained screams.
A bizarre scene unfolded before Su Min.
A curvaceous figure hovered mid-air, legs crossed, wielding a spiked whip. Around her, cultivators lay sprawled on the ground, their bodies crisscrossed with thorn-like lacerations, bleeding but far from fatal.
For ordinary people, such wounds would be disastrous—possibly lethal. But these were Foundation Establishment cultivators. Superficial injuries like these would heal within a day. Their agonized howls were more theatrical than genuine. What truly left Su Min speechless was the laughter—Lin Yao, cackling like a tyrant.
"Since when did she turn into such a sadist? Tch, and she's grown quite a bit."
Back when they first met, Lin Yao had been a scrawny teenager. Now, after years of growth—and Su Min's seclusion—she had blossomed.
Her cultivation wasn't bad either—early-stage Golden Core, a blistering pace. She'd even survived the Nine-Nine Heavenly Tribulation, a feat that would've made her a core disciple in any immortal sect, worthy of elite nurturing.
Not that Su Min cared about disciples. Her sect's sole purpose was gathering resources. Her Medicine King's Cauldron now brimmed with high-grade medicinal herbs, carefully cultivated. A significant portion had been procured at great cost by her sect, ensuring her stockpile remained plentiful. For an alchemist, lacking ingredients was an incurable ailment.
"So she's an instructor here? A thirty-year-old Golden Core—no wonder they're grooming her. Let's see how she's really doing."
Su Min didn't reveal herself immediately. This fortress had no Divine Transformation experts—the strongest was an early-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, utterly incapable of detecting her. She was more interested in observing.
~
"Another day done."
Lin Yao slipped back into her quarters, drawing the doors closed behind her with a practiced quiet. Her fingers brushed the simple ring on her hand—a plain thing, but far from ordinary. For over a decade, she had guarded it like her life depended on it. And until she reached Divine Transformation, she dared not unlock its secrets, let alone speak of them aloud.
"I wonder where she is now…" she murmured, almost absently. "And Father…"
She didn't finish the thought. Instead, she gave a dry chuckle. "… Well, at least those brats are still fun to whip into shape."
Her gaze drifted to the portrait hanging on the far wall.
There were five figures in the painting once.
Now only two remained.
Her father had passed years ago, after a long battle with illness. Though Su Min had extended his time—staving off death with medicine no mortal should've possessed—some endings could not be postponed. His spirit had withered as gently as a candle guttering out. No force in this world could alter the truth: without divine bloodlines or heaven-defying fortune, even the most cherished people would eventually slip away.
Lin Yao was now left to confront the cultivator's first true trial—the Tribulation of Longevity. In a world like this, without ancient bloodlines or heavenly favor, one could only watch, again and again, as loved ones aged and faded… while the cultivator stood untouched, unaging.
Not everyone could be like Su Min.
A transmigrator, yes—but more than that. She was someone whose path was already carved into her bones. Who walked forward not with longing, but with detachment. Who kept others at arm's length—not out of arrogance, but necessity.
Because she had chosen Immortality.
Time meant something different to Su Min. Where others counted years in handfuls and clung to fleeting bonds, she measured in centuries, in the steady unfolding of a future far beyond the mortal span. To her, closeness was a danger—not to herself, but to those who couldn't follow. It was easier to hold the world at a distance than to watch it crumble, one beloved face at a time.
And yet… Lin Yao couldn't live that way.
She couldn't bear to spend decades in seclusion, only to emerge and find her mother's hair gone silver, her voice thin with age. She wanted to stay present. To live these years while they still belonged to her.
To cherish what Su Min, perhaps, had long since learned to let go.
A few years ago, she'd secluded herself to refine the Netherworld Ghostfire. When she emerged, her father was already gone. So now, she vented her frustrations—beating up unruly recruits, holding back just enough to avoid permanent damage.
It wasn't the most efficient path—but it was the one she could live with. Because power, no matter how vast, meant nothing if she lost everyone she still had left. Just as she was about to speak—
Everything turned gray.
Her body froze. Only her consciousness remained active.
She knew exactly what this meant.
"Well, well. Living the good life, Instructor Lin?"
A playful voice echoed as a figure materialized before her. A slender finger lifted her chin, sending a shiver down her spine. Joy surged—after years in the cultivation world, she'd learned that nearly everyone wanted something from her.
Except Su Min.
No demands. Just resources. No life-threatening tasks.
But her elation faded quickly.
Su Min's appearance meant business.
And as a Golden Core cultivator who'd survived the Nine-Nine Heavenly Tribulation, Lin Yao now occupied the upper echelons of this world's power structure. The only reason society hadn't collapsed was the corrupted beasts, forcing the great families to pool resources and nurture more cultivators.
Especially after that Dao Comprehension-stage monstrosity decades ago—its shadow still loomed large.
"You know why I'm here. Any leads on what I asked for?"
Su Min released her restraints with a snap, restoring color to the world. A soundproof barrier ensured privacy.
"No traces of the Qilin. They've never appeared here."
"Hmm? No remains? That doesn't make sense."
Su Min frowned.
"But you were right about one thing—there is a hidden faction in this world."
Lin Yao's voice held newfound respect. Back then, she'd thought Su Min was paranoid.
Now, she knew better. This shadowy organization's strength rivaled even the Five Great Families.
"Oh?"
Su Min's brow furrowed deeper. If nothing surfaced openly, it had to be buried deeper. For the Five Families—who controlled nearly all resources—to fail in eradicating them was unnatural.
"They worship some 'god,' awaiting its descent. They're locked in a death feud with our cultivator alliance."
"I see…"
Su Min's expression darkened. In her world, reclusive powerhouses were rare. Cultivation left too many traces—breakthroughs like hers were impossible to conceal. But these hidden actors—where did their resources come from? Their techniques?
"What are you thinking, Senior?"
Lin Yao studied Su Min's grimace.
Bound by their oath, she couldn't lie—and she'd genuinely scoured for intel. This organization operated at heights most Golden Core cultivators couldn't fathom.
"Possibly a Fallen One. And if it hasn't descended yet… At its peak, it was at least Unity-stage, maybe even Mahayana."
Su Min's voice turned grave.
"That level could've devastated the Qilin."
This was bad.
The smart move would be to leave. A Fallen One of that caliber was lethal.
The Mahayana corpses in the ancient battlefield proved they could kill her.
But if the Qilin's clues tied to it—conflict was inevitable.
"Damn it. Back home, I'd just call for backup."
Her lips twisted wryly. Her world's biggest issue was pinpointing Fallen Ones. They struck fast and vanished. Unless stumbled upon—like she had—they were nearly impossible to hunt. That's why they avoided major sects' territories, fearing ambushes.
At the first sign of a waking Fallen One, forces could be rallied—Yao Xian'er or the Great Thunder Temple's founder, both Dao Comprehension experts wielding Emperor Artifacts, could suppress it.
But Su Min alone?
Uncertain.
And then there was collateral damage.
At Dao Comprehension stage, going all-out might trigger a mass extinction in this fragile world. Even in her home realm, Dao Comprehension marked the ceiling for conventional warfare. Unity-stage and above took battles to the stratosphere—or beyond. Mahayana and Ascension-stage experts—the future Great Emperors—fought in the depths of space.
"Senior, what's wrong?"
"Your world might be hosting a sleeping catastrophe. If it awakens, it'll devour everything. Few will survive."
"Impossible!"
Lin Yao's face paled.
From anyone else, she'd have dismissed it.
But Su Min didn't joke about such things.
"The rift's monsters?"
"No. Those are just Dao Comprehension-level nuisances, scattered thin. You got unlucky with that one. Their threat's limited. Let me tell you about Fallen Ones…"
Su Min sighed, recounting their horrors. With each word, Lin Yao's expression twisted further—especially upon learning her world was but a speck compared to Su Min's.
This was her first true glimpse beyond the well.
Staying here forever would've made her a frog at the bottom.
"Your world's that strong? Divine Transformation cultivators everywhere, Golden Core worthless?"
"Not that exaggerated. But tens of thousands of Divine Transformation, and even more Nascent Souls. Though that's thanks to deeper foundations and larger populations."
"Then—"
"Focus. This is critical."
Su Min cut off her curiosity, laying out the Fallen Ones' atrocities.
Lin Yao's face contorted.
Entire worlds—no smaller than hers—devoured.
Compared to them, even history's worst tyrants seemed saintly.