Chapter 10 — Escape from the Infernal Veins(Bonus chapter)
Hao Tian's breaths came in ragged gasps as he pressed himself against the jagged wall of the collapsed tunnel. Dust hung thick in the air, clinging to his damp hair and stinging his throat. Light from the surface flickered faintly through the cracks in the debris ahead, but it was blocked—blocked by tons of stone, twisted beams of timber, and remnants of the miners' old scaffolding. Each piece looked like it had been tossed carelessly, yet together they formed an impenetrable barrier.
He traced the outline of the rubble with trembling fingers, brushing dust aside to gauge whether even a single handhold could shift. No. The pieces were too large, too compacted. Even with all his strength, he could not move them. Not alone. Not now.
He sat back, sliding against the cold stone wall, pickaxe across his lap, and closed his eyes. The faint tug of the Origin Flame pulsed in his chest—not shouting, not screaming—but nudging him subtly, reminding him that it had sensed something beyond. That pull was persistent, teasing, as if promising that what lay above could be a threshold into something greater.
Yet it did not push him forward. That restraint was something he had come to respect. Hao Tian allowed himself a long moment to think.
The collapse was not total; faint remnants of the miners' work suggested other paths. But any alternative was fraught with danger. He remembered the tunnels' intricate twists, the fire veins, the unstable floors. One misstep could crush him, trap him, or force him deeper underground. The safest way might involve the very beast that had protected the fire crystal vein—the 7th-level body refining creature.
Hao Tian assessed the situation. He had three immediate options:
Option one: Attempt to clear the debris himself, piece by piece. This was impossible—he was alone, the stone was too heavy, and the tunnel too confined. Attempting it would leave him exhausted, trapped, or worse.
Option two: Search for a detour. The mountain was vast, but time and stamina worked against him. Any unexplored side tunnels could collapse, contain hidden beasts, or circle back into dead ends. The odds of survival were slim.
Option three: Use the 7th-level beast as a tool. If he could lure it, even subtly, into the debris's path, its raw strength could clear the blockage. This approach was risky—the beast was not intelligent in human terms, it could attack him, or fail entirely—but it leveraged its own body-refining strength in a way that worked in his favor.
Hao Tian exhaled. His mind traced every variable. He thought of his body, now fifth-stage in body refining, his pickaxe, and the tools he had scavenged. He considered the beast's behavior in previous encounters: it was territorial but predictable when baited with environmental triggers, its strength enormous when concentrated on a single task. His patience and cunning might make this gamble work.
Decision made, he retreated further into the tunnel, careful not to disturb loose stones too early. Every step he took echoed softly, yet he could sense the walls themselves shifting subtly, ancient pressures in the mountain reminding him that he was not the only living thing underground.
He stopped in a narrow chamber, just wide enough to allow the beast to approach if it followed. Dust swirled in the weak light filtering from above. A small, shallow pit marked where previous collapses had occurred. Hao Tian crouched behind a jagged rock formation, positioning himself carefully.
He struck the wall lightly with the shaft of his pickaxe, producing a resonant tapping that would carry through the stone. A subtle, instinctive thrill ran through him as he felt the Origin Flame pulse. The sensation was not heat, not direct guidance—just a faint acknowledgment. The beast would sense disturbance; the mountain itself would vibrate with enough pressure to draw its attention.
Minutes passed. Then, a sound—a deep, rolling vibration, almost like a low growl but carried through stone. Hao Tian tensed. The 7th-level body-refining beast emerged from a shadowed corridor, its eyes glowing faintly red, reflecting the residual heat of the tunnels. Its massive, scaled body moved with surprising silence for something so large.
He allowed it to sniff the air, step by step, moving closer to his carefully placed decoy: a loose rock he had shifted earlier to mimic recent mining disturbance. The beast's nostrils flared; its head tilted. Hao Tian's muscles coiled, ready to sprint, ready to strike if the creature became hostile.
Slowly, deliberately, the beast approached the pile of debris blocking the light. Its massive claws dug into the ground, testing the stability of the rocks. Then, instinctively, it began to push, nudge, and claw at the stones. Dust exploded in clouds as the rubble shifted and tumbled. Hao Tian held his breath. The creature was strong, but unpredictable. One misstep could collapse the surrounding walls.
Yet, as the debris fell, the faint light grew brighter. Rays of sun—or perhaps afternoon brilliance—peeked through cracks. The mountain seemed to breathe around them. The Origin Flame pulsed faintly in his chest, subtle warmth spreading through his core, like a silent cheer for the careful orchestration.
........
The rubble shifted more violently as the 7th-level beast used its raw power to push, nudge, and claw the stones aside. Hao Tian kept a safe distance, every muscle taut, pickaxe ready to intervene if necessary. The air was thick with dust, and the faint warmth of the fire veins above mixed with the sunlight piercing the blockage, painting the chamber in a surreal reddish-gold haze.
He spotted a particularly precarious boulder—a massive slab that would likely topple dangerously if moved incorrectly. Timing was critical. Hao Tian kicked a smaller stone at the edge of the slab, creating a controlled tumble that distracted the beast just enough to nudge the massive stone with its shoulder. The chain reaction began. The beast's sheer size and focused strength cleared a path, piece by piece, until the light of the outside world shone brighter through the remaining debris.
Hao Tian's chest tightened. The exit was nearly within reach. He could see green beyond, faint hints of foliage, sunlight, and air that smelled of freedom rather than sulfur and dust. He took a cautious step forward. The 7th-level beast had retreated a few meters, watching him curiously, but its attention remained mostly on the disturbed environment. He understood instinctively that it would not interfere if he respected the space it considered its domain.
Sweat streamed down his face. Every movement needed careful calculation. A single false step could send loose rocks tumbling or provoke the beast. He adjusted the strap of his satchel, ensuring the herbs and crystals were secure, and kept the pickaxe raised, though now more as support than weapon.
Finally, the last obstruction—a thick beam, splintered but heavy—shifted just enough. Hao Tian lunged through the gap, scraping and panting, and emerged into the sunlight. His boots sank into soil that had not felt like dirt in months, and the fresh air filled his lungs with a warmth and clarity he had almost forgotten.
He staggered to his feet, breathing deeply, and allowed himself a moment to take in the sight. The mountain behind him rose in jagged peaks, still faintly glowing from residual fire veins. The collapsed mine entrance was hidden behind rock and shadow, almost as if the earth itself were trying to conceal its secrets.
Hao Tian's hands shook as he surveyed the surface. The forest beyond stretched wide, trees swaying in the breeze. Birds called to one another, their songs alien after weeks underground. The Origin Flame pulsed faintly in his chest, warmth radiating softly, almost like a gentle thrum of pride. Hao Tian could feel its subtle acknowledgment: he had survived, outsmarted danger, and leveraged the mountain's hidden guardian to achieve freedom.
He allowed himself a small smile. The herbs, the fire crystals, the careful study of the tunnels—all of it had been worth it. For the first time, he realized that patience, observation, and respect for his environment had been as crucial as any raw strength.
Yet, even in his relief, the Origin Flame's pull lingered faintly, a gentle hum of something beyond. He could sense, though faintly, a presence deeper in the mountain—a flame seed of considerable potency, the sort that even spiritual flame seeds would pale against in terms of raw potential. It would have to wait. For now, survival, recovery, and preparation took precedence.
Hao Tian crouched, brushing the soil from his boots and checking the contents of his satchel. Four pieces of fire crystal, secure. Herbs carefully wrapped. The rusted spear and dagger scavenged from skeletons inside the tunnels—a potential last line of defense—rested comfortably at his side. The pickaxe, battered but intact, remained his most trusted tool.
As he stood, sunlight warming his shoulders, Hao Tian allowed himself one final glance back at the mountain. Shadows flickered in the cracks, the faint heat of hidden veins pulsed, and somewhere deep beneath, the 7th-level body refining beast stirred. It would continue to exist, its strength growing in its subterranean home, unaware that it had played a role in a mortal's escape.
He inhaled deeply, grounding himself. The world above was wide, unfamiliar, and full of challenges. The Origin Flame pulsed again, a subtle reassurance and a quiet spark of what was to come. Hao Tian's journey had only just begun. One day, he would return. One day, he would see what lay beneath the fire veins, and the mountain would not hide its secrets from him again.
For now, however, he took careful steps forward, moving toward the first town he had seen on maps, toward safety, toward recovery, and toward the opportunities that awaited. Each step was measured, each breath deliberate, but every movement carried the quiet, insistent pulse of something far greater waiting beneath the surface—an opportunity, a test, and a promise that the chaos of the underground world had not yet revealed its final hand.