Chapter 84: Crisis at the Academy, Return at Once! [Third Update, Please Vote for the Monthly Ticket]

Becoming Immortal in the Mortal World Ren Woxiao 3657 words 2026-04-13 01:59:22

“Grandfather, what’s the second matter?” Fang Wang immediately shifted topics after hearing his grandfather agree.

Fang Meng’s smile faded as he asked, “Regarding the Qi Dynasty’s transition into an Immortal Cultivation Dynasty, were you involved, or do you know anything about it?”

Fang Wang shook his head, “I’ve been busy cultivating, not investigating these matters. What do you wish to know?”

“These past years, the atmosphere at court has been peculiar; ministers vanish, and replacements come faster than births in the imperial city. When I visited you, I found certain cities far less lively than before. People live in constant fear. I’ve heard that local officials forcibly conscript citizens to dig for spiritual veins, and once they leave, they never return. I followed the High Ancestor in his uprising, fought to unify the land. Though some in Qi sought to harm us, your grandfather’s heart and effort are part of Qi’s realm—I do not wish to see anyone destroy it.”

“Moreover, the Fang household is a Duke’s Mansion; you were born to enjoy wealth, which ultimately comes from the people.” Fang Meng spoke solemnly, carefully watching Fang Wang’s expression.

He knew that a person’s beliefs shift with their position. He feared Fang Wang might fully embrace the mindset of a cultivator—concerned only for the immortal world, indifferent to the lives of ordinary people.

Fang Wang pondered, “Let me return to Taiyuan Sect. I’ll inquire with my master. If he cannot explain, I’ll seek out the sect leader.”

Fang Meng breathed a sigh of relief, his lips curling into a smile. He raised his hand and gave Fang Wang’s shoulder a firm pat.

“Good grandson, longevity is elusive, but in life, the most important thing is what kind of person you choose to become. If one attains immortality, then one must consider what manner of immortal to be.” Fang Meng’s words were heavy with meaning.

What manner of immortal?

An immortal who acts recklessly and indulges every whim!

Fang Wang mused silently, but dared not voice his thoughts. He wasn’t foolish; he understood his grandfather’s intent.

For Fang Meng, the greater good of family and nation outweighed all else.

Afterward, Fang Meng dropped the topic and began discussing Fang Family’s cultivation realm.

Sixteen years had passed, and the Fang Family now boasted several hundred cultivators. Although most were at the Qi Nurturing Realm, they were enough to secure the family’s safety.

Back then, a single Qi Nurturing cultivator nearly wiped out the Fang Mansion; recalling those days, grandfather and grandson both sighed.

That night, they spoke at length.

At noon the next day, Fang Wang sat cross-legged at the bridgehead, channeling energy and absorbing spiritual qi.

His duel with Kong Xi of the Sword Sect was easy, but it drained his spiritual energy deeply; the Nine Heavens Azure Thunder Sword Formation consumed immense power. Just dealing with Kong Xi cost him half his reserves. He needed to recover quickly and ensure his energy was at full strength.

Little Zi curled up at his left, still contemplating the sword.

No matter how lively the gathering, it would eventually disperse. Most factions had left, including the Fang Family, who departed early. Those remaining were preparing to leave as well.

Fang Wang planned to return to Taiyuan Sect once his energy was restored. He hadn’t been back in a long while; after all he’d experienced, he would return with a resounding reputation—just imagining it stirred his spirits.

Just then.

Fang Wang sensed something, opened his eyes, and flipped his right hand, producing his disciple token. Guang Qiuxian’s voice transmitted from within:

“Peril for the sect! Return immediately!”

Guang Qiuxian’s tone was grave; it was Fang Wang’s first time hearing him speak so urgently.

Fang Wang frowned. Was Guang Qiuxian summoning him alone, or all disciples?

Soon, a figure swept in like a gentle breeze, stopping behind him—it was Fang Hanyu.

“Fang Wang, did you hear the sect leader’s words?” Fang Hanyu whispered.

Fang Wang stood and looked at him, “Peril for the sect, return immediately?”

Fang Hanyu nodded, “Seems he’s addressing all disciples. Something major has happened at Taiyuan Sect. We must return; Fang Xin and the others are still inside.”

Fang Wang hesitated; he’d just fought a battle and was still recovering. Returning now wasn’t wise.

For Guang Qiuxian to summon all disciples outside the sect...

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Could it be...

Fang Wang suddenly recalled Zhou Xue’s words: Taiyuan Sect had produced several genius cultivators with Earth Origin Treasure Spirits and was besieged by major demonic sects. Now that a Heaven Origin Treasure Spirit had emerged, would this calamity arrive sooner?

Wait!

If the demonic sects were invading, did they choose now because they’d just learned of his battle with Sword Sect?

After yesterday’s battle, many left immediately—clearly spies.

Fang Wang had already slain a Demon King, equivalent to a Consolidated Spirit Realm cultivator. If they attacked Taiyuan Sect after his major battle, their chances of success would increase.

First destroy Taiyuan Sect, then hunt or subdue him, the genius with a Heaven Origin Treasure Spirit?

His mind raced with countless thoughts. Just then, figures began flying across the lake, swords beneath their feet—it was Taiyuan Sect disciples.

Zhao Chuanqian arrived first, speaking rapidly, “Taiyuan Sect is in trouble; we’re heading back. Fang Wang, you two stay here at Sword Heaven Marsh!”

With that, he departed on his sword; the others followed.

Even the usually playful Sleepy Master now wore a grave face. The other disciples glanced at Fang Wang but dared not speak.

Fang Wang saw Gu Li among them. She wore a veil and didn’t look his way; her gaze was as chilly as ever.

Hundreds flew north, swiftly crossing mountain peaks, vanishing without a trace.

Fang Wang frowned; Zhao Chuanqian was sending him a message—they’d come to the same conclusion.

Taiyuan Sect’s crisis was surely linked to his recent battle.

Fang Hanyu declared, “You stay; I’ll go. I can’t watch my kin suffer!”

He was about to leap away, but Fang Wang grabbed his shoulder.

Fang Wang took a deep breath, “Give me one day, all right?”

“But…”

“Can you alone change fate? Taiyuan Sect isn’t so weak as to be easily destroyed! It has a great protective array!”

Fang Wang spoke firmly. Fang Hanyu found reason in his words and agreed.

Fang Wang resumed meditating, channeling energy while taking Spirit Qi Pills from his pouch to hasten recovery.

Fang Hanyu went to inform Song Jin Yuan.

Song Jin Yuan hesitated; he wanted to keep Fang Wang here—what did Taiyuan Sect’s survival mean to him? But if Fang Wang abandoned Taiyuan Sect, would he someday abandon Sword Heaven Marsh?

Sunset yielded to moonrise.

A day passed. Sword Heaven Marsh was eerily silent.

Near noon, Fang Wang rose and immediately moved toward the long-waiting Fang Hanyu.

“Let’s go,” Fang Wang said. Though not fully recovered, seven-tenths of his energy was enough.

Little Zi immediately nestled into Fang Wang’s arms.

Fang Hanyu nodded; the brothers leaped up, landing on their swords, which carried them northward.

Song Jin Yuan and the sword attendants watched the brothers depart.

Gu Tianxiong came from the side, chuckling, “Song lad, old man’s leaving too. Next time, we’ll spar again.”

Song Jin Yuan turned and clasped his hands in salute.

Their sparring ended with Song Jin Yuan’s victory. Thanks to Gu Tianxiong, Song Jin Yuan regained his confidence. Gu Tianxiong’s wit and humor had long made him a friend.

Gu Tianxiong turned, walking in another direction, leaving a parting remark:

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“Next time we meet, who knows how far Fang Wang will have grown. Song lad, you must work hard—don’t end up unqualified to follow him.”

Song Jin Yuan wasn’t offended; instead, he smiled.

Above the mountains, Fang Wang and Fang Hanyu flew on their swords at great speed—covering nine hundred miles in an hour, not even at full speed, given the long journey ahead.

Throughout, neither spoke, each lost in thought.

Suddenly.

Little Zi poked her head from Fang Wang’s arms. Fang Wang seemed to sense something, narrowed his eyes, then halted.

Fang Hanyu stopped beside him, puzzled, “What is it?”

Fang Wang’s gaze was deep, “Hanyu, go back. Take another route to Taiyuan Sect.”

Fang Hanyu frowned, “Why?”

“Idiot! There are enemies ahead—lots of them. Someone’s ambushing us! If you stay, you’ll only be a burden!” Little Zi cried, her voice taut with anxiety.

Ambush?

Fang Hanyu whipped his head around. Ahead, the forests and peaks stretched endlessly, no sign of people.

He didn’t doubt Fang Wang’s judgment, though; he turned, gritting his teeth, “I should stay with you!”

Fang Wang took a deep breath, “Such a grand setup is clearly aimed at me. Go, listen to me—think of Fang Xin and the others. If I’m alone, I can escape even if I lose. I can’t afford to protect you as well!”

Fang Hanyu bit his lip, but didn’t hesitate; he flew back the way they’d come.

Once he disappeared into the horizon, Little Zi asked anxiously, “Master, what about us? Should we hide?”

Fang Wang stared ahead, “We can’t hide. If we do, they’ll investigate, and Hanyu will be in danger. My clansmen are also heading this way.”

Half an hour earlier, he and Fang Hanyu had spotted Fang family members traveling on foot, four hundred miles away.

Fang Wang continued forward, though more slowly.

Little Zi, though frightened, perched on his shoulder, alert to their surroundings.

About ten miles ahead, a cold laugh rang out:

“Heavenly Sword Sage Fang Wang, do you understand that blood debts must be repaid in blood?”

Fang Wang’s gaze focused on a distant mountaintop; there stood hundreds of cultivators. At their head was a man in a blood-red robe, wearing a skull crown, a red scorpion sprawled across his exposed chest—terrifying in appearance.

It wasn’t just that peak. Other mountaintops revealed more figures; even the forests to either side were filled with cultivators.

Green Cicada Valley!

Fang Wang recognized them.

Of course—only Green Cicada Valley could muster so many to ambush him.

Fang Wang landed gently on a mid-slope.

He raised his right hand, producing the Heavenly Palace Halberd, and spoke softly, “A bitter battle awaits. Are you ready?”

Within his spiritual sense, enemies numbered at least ten thousand—not likely all of them.

Green Cicada Valley had indeed gone all out to ambush him!

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