Chapter Nine: The Immortal Core

In the past, when he bullied those low-level spirit beasts, he had only ever wounded them; even after entering this forest, he had seldom indulged in killing. Just now, when he saw the blood and other things spurting from the African rhinoceros’s eye, Li Chengzhu felt an inexplicable pang of pain for the beast, as if the cold blade had been driven into his own eye. But it was already too late to stop.

From the moment the cold sword broke through the African rhinoceros’s defenses, it spun rapidly, boring into its brain in an instant, followed by the unmistakable sound of bones shattering. The sword shot out from the other side of the rhino’s head.

With its brain destroyed, the African rhinoceros could no longer hold itself up. With a heavy crash, its massive body hit the ground, toppling several large trees and sending dust flying everywhere.

Li Chengzhu controlled the cold sword to float before him, frowning as he summoned the rain to wash it clean. Only then did he place it in his storage ring. In any case, he had no intention of entrusting the cold sword to the Nascent Soul for safekeeping any time soon. The mere thought of the sword having touched something so disgusting made him shudder.

Just as he was about to move forward, Li Chengzhu suddenly noticed a spirit beast, mouse-like in appearance, darting over in quick leaps to the side of the African rhinoceros. It circled the corpse a few times before scurrying to the rhino’s head and squeezing itself into the wound at the eye.

“Disgusting, truly disgusting!” Li Chengzhu couldn’t help but exclaim, surprised at how such a tiny creature could be so savage.

Before he’d finished lamenting, Li Chengzhu noticed a small bulge moving rapidly inside the rhino’s body. It was clear that the bulge was the very mouse that had just burrowed inside, and Li Chengzhu wondered what on earth it was up to.

Within seconds, the bulge had reached the position of the rhinoceros’s heart. After a bout of intense wriggling, it sped back the way it had come.

“Could it be that this thing eats only hearts?” Li Chengzhu wondered.

But the truth left him startled.

When the mouse emerged from the wound in the rhino’s eye, its forepaws were clutching something as it ran away excitedly. With all the blood, Li Chengzhu couldn't immediately tell what it was, but it was certainly not a heart. Instead, it looked like a solid object.

“Don’t tell me this African rhinoceros had such a huge heart stone?” Li Chengzhu thought, not without a hint of malice.

Watching the sneaky little mouse, Li Chengzhu couldn’t help but chuckle. He pointed with a flourish and uttered, “Bind!”

A golden light shot forth, trapping the little mouse firmly on the spot.

The mouse screeched wildly, darting left and right, but could not escape Li Chengzhu’s binding circle.

Li Chengzhu approached the mouse slowly, summoned the rain to wash it clean, and discovered that the object in its paws resembled a diamond from Earth—except this one was enormous, at least the size of two fists together, and colored a deep green.

My goodness, if such a diamond were on Earth, how much would it be worth? Li Chengzhu almost drooled at the thought.

Perhaps realizing escape was hopeless, the mouse stopped its squealing, clutched the diamond tightly, and lifted it toward its mouth.

What happened next made Li Chengzhu’s jaw drop.

With a few crisp “crunch, crunch” sounds, the diamond lost several corners to the mouse, which chewed with apparent relish.

“Damn!” Li Chengzhu snatched up the mouse and wrested the diamond from its grip. “Stealing my spoils, are you?” he muttered, flinging the mouse far away.

Examining the diamond, Li Chengzhu noted that despite the mouse gnawing off a few chunks, it remained impressively large. What astonished him even more was that the diamond contained a vast amount of wood-attribute spiritual energy. Recalling the African rhinoceros’s lightning attack, Li Chengzhu finally understood: to the rhino, this diamond must be akin to a cultivator’s Nascent Soul, though not quite as powerful.

But why hadn’t the beasts he’d killed before had such things inside them? He’d once roasted a bearded finch, and later, in the forest, had killed spirit beasts resembling dogs and rabbits for the taste; even after eating them, he never found such objects in their hearts. Had he roasted them away? He resolved to pay more attention in the future.

Though he didn’t know what use this thing might have, seeing how the mouse found it so delicious, he surmised it might be valuable for alchemy. He placed the diamond from the rhinoceros into his storage ring.

In truth, the diamond’s real name was “Immortal Core.” Only spirit beasts of the fifth rank or above possessed such a thing; rarely, a fourth-rank beast might have one as well. It was the vital source of a spirit beast’s existence. But Li Chengzhu knew nothing of this, assuming every spirit beast had one.

The mouse, having lost its Immortal Core, squeaked in agitation, pounding its forepaws on the ground in front of Li Chengzhu. A thin stream of spiritual energy tunneled through the earth straight to Li Chengzhu’s feet. It gathered earth-attribute energy from the ground and formed a sharp earthen spike that shot up beneath him.

Li Chengzhu uttered a surprised exclamation and leapt aside, swinging the cold sword in a slash that sent a blade of energy crashing toward the mouse.

With a shrill squeal, the mouse’s tail was sliced in half, and it fled the battlefield in pain.

Li Chengzhu spared little thought for the mouse, but he was dissatisfied with his own performance in the recent battle. In truth, the African rhinoceros wasn’t all that formidable—its lightning attacks were merely fast. As long as he could move faster, he could remain invincible; if he were any quicker, he might have killed it outright. Today’s opponent was just a single rhinoceros—what if there had been two, or three? Would he have to flee every time? That was not Li Chengzhu’s way.

Yet today’s fight also tempered his arrogance. No wonder his master had said that even he had no idea what lurked within this forest, and had cautioned Li Chengzhu not to venture too deep for fear of danger. As it turned out, he was only a bit stronger than when he first arrived in the Immortal Realm. Today, a random spirit beast had nearly forced him into utter helplessness—what about next time?

Thinking of his master, Li Chengzhu smacked his lips. He’d been away for at least ten days now. He wondered if his master’s anger had subsided, pondering what kind of reception he might face should he return. His mental calculations yielded a dismal prediction. Shivering, Li Chengzhu decided to roam freely a while longer.

He took a jade slip from his ring, inscribed a message with his divine sense, and sent it off to his master to report his safety.

In the days that followed, Li Chengzhu wandered everywhere, seeking out solitary spirit beasts to hone his skills against. If he couldn’t beat them, he’d stall; if he couldn’t stall, he’d run, and once recovered, he’d go back to challenge them again.

The deeper he ventured, the stronger the spirit beasts he encountered. In these constant bouts, Li Chengzhu trained himself relentlessly, and before he knew it, his cultivation broke through to the middle stage of Nascent Soul. He could already imagine his master berating him harshly upon his return, and he stuck out his tongue at the thought. By now, he had collected dozens of Immortal Cores, in azure, gold, white, red, and yellow—all representing different elemental attributes: wood, metal, water, fire, and earth. The strangest were a single black and a single silver Immortal Core. The black one was filled with an energy that made Li Chengzhu deeply uncomfortable, while the silver one was just the opposite. He guessed that they represented the attributes of darkness and light.

Yet such Immortal Cores were incredibly rare, leaving Li Chengzhu utterly puzzled.