Everyone Says Immortals Are Good, But Who Knows Immortals Have Troubles

Meanwhile, Chen Dengming had already entered the Ice Wind Forest under notice from the Eighteen Shadow Guards, having learned in advance how many had come this time.

But as he gazed at Misty Cliff—a sight like a dragon drinking water, linking heaven and earth—though shaken, he saw no trace of any cultivators at all.

"To create such a commotion, I wonder if it's some ancient immortal formation, or the work of a descended cultivator? If it's a descended cultivator, they can't be some low-level immortal."

Chen Dengming's brows furrowed. He pondered for a long while, then recalled the Shadow Guards' warning that the Xiantian Grandmasters on the peak had already begun fighting. With a light chuckle, he abandoned any thought of approaching the mountain for now.

The Ascension Convention wouldn't officially begin for another half-month. The so-called immortals hadn't even descended yet, and already people were clashing—over nothing but fame and invitations. He had no interest in courting trouble.

For now, he continued to lie low and observe from afar, relying on the Eighteen Shadow Guards to relay intelligence daily.

On the second day, a Shadow Guard reported: Nangong Shuo, head of the Nangong clan and ranked first among Xiantian Grandmasters, sparred with Yue Kun, ranked sixth. They stopped at a touch, and Nangong Shuo won.

On the fourth day, a Shadow Guard reported: Nangong Shuo fought Wind-Clear Sword Xu Changqing, ranked third. They stopped at a touch, and Nangong Shuo won by a single move.

On the sixth day, a Shadow Guard reported: Shao Yu Feng, ranked fourth, fought Wang Shiduo, ranked fifth. Shao Yu Feng won by a narrow margin.

On the ninth day, a Shadow Guard reported: Two Shadow Guards were tracked by Shao Yu Feng, who suddenly descended the mountain. They were discovered by a Snake Gu's warning. The two Shadow Guards took their own poison, and the others withdrew swiftly. Intelligence gathering came to a halt.

"Shao Yu Feng... Nangong Shuo..."

Chen Dengming stood with his hands behind his back amid the forest, gazing at the still-earthshaking spectacle of Misty Cliff in the distance, a strange glint in his eyes.

Nangong Shuo and Shao Yu Feng had each sparred with other Xiantian Grandmasters, yet never fought in earnest—as if merely testing. This didn't seem like a true contest for the title of number one in the Martial World, nor a struggle over someone's invitation. He couldn't fathom their intent.

The time wasn't right. He chose to continue lying low.

Having lived past eighty, he was no longer the hot-blooded youth who, upon first transmigrating, fantasized about roaring "Thirty years on the east bank, thirty on the west." He had patience and steadiness in spades.

On the eleventh day.

At the peak, besides the dozens already there, more had been drawn by the heaven-linking spectacle of Misty Peak. Yet, cowed by the Grandmasters' might, they lingered on the mountainside, not daring to ascend.

Still, their arrival made it easier for the Shadow Guards to gather intelligence.

On the peak, the atmosphere grew heavier. The dozens present had their own schemes. Nangong Shuo and Shao Yu Feng exchanged glances, communicating mind to mind, their eyes flickering with growing impatience.

"The situation isn't what we expected. Chen Dengming still hasn't shown. Could it be that the invitation holder isn't him, but some other expert?"

"The two I chased the other day were both first-rate experts in the Martial World. They took poison before I could catch them. Only nine families could train such men willing to die. Of those, only the Chen Family hasn't arrived."

Their eyes met, and both ground their teeth in frustration. They'd never seen anyone so good at hiding.

"That bastard has kept a low profile for years, cautious and steady. Let's wait two more days. Two days at most. If Chen Dengming doesn't show, we'll move on Hu Lei. Yesterday's test showed he's the easiest to take."

Two days passed quickly.

Only three days remained until the Ascension Convention officially began.

The remaining sixteen Shadow Guards mixed into the crowd on the mountainside and brought Chen Dengming fresh intelligence: Nangong Shuo and Shao Yu Feng had suddenly joined forces to attack Hu Lei, ranked seventh on the Heavenly Ranking. They forced him to hand over his invitation before stopping.

"The dagger's out from the scroll, those two old foxes. All those days of skimming the surface were just tests, waiting to strike the weakest. Poor Hu Lei."

Chen Dengming received the Shadow Guards' report, a faint smile curling at his lips.

He knew that compared to Hu Lei, if he, ranked eighth in the world, showed up, he'd likely be seen as an even softer target by those two old foxes.

Though he trusted his trump cards to ensure safety—enough to make anyone who schemed against him choke on their own teeth—his greatest card was reserved for guarding against the immortals. Lying low for over ten days hadn't been wasted; he'd avoided unnecessary trouble.

He turned his palm over. A Blood Centipede Gu, no longer than a baby's finger, appeared in his hand, linked to him by some blood-deep connection.

"Go!"

Chen Dengming said flatly. The Blood Centipede suddenly spread its paper-thin wings, buzzed once, and followed his will into his right ear. It curled into a ball inside, its aura rapidly fading.

Soon, he would face immortals. To guard against any means they might have to see through a man, he had to hide a trump card like the Blood Centipede Gu deep enough.

The next moment, he slung a large blade across his back and used lightness skill to glide through the forest like a great bird. With each breath, he covered over twenty zhang in a single leap, drawing closer to Misty Cliff, ready to ascend at any moment.

As the crowd gathered on the peak, no one noticed that deep in the clouds above Misty Cliff, a massive teleportation formation—half real, half illusory—had already been constructed.

Hundreds of glittering, crystalline stones shone like stars, arranged in the pattern of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits and Seventy-two Earthly Fiends, dotting the formation to form a vast airborne platform.

On this platform, five figures had already gathered.

Three men and two women, all with extraordinary bearing, their bodies radiating spiritual light that formed a rain of radiance, giving them a mysterious, immortal air that would make any mortal recognize them as immortals and bow in worship.

Yet at this moment, these five immortals were discussing matters like prison wardens chatting about which new inmate was more interesting. Their words held no Immortal Qi, only vulgar mundanity.

One of the men, wearing a square cap, pointed at Shao Yu Feng and said with a bland smile, "Look at this mortal, over seventy, scheming for an invitation to the Ascension Convention. He hasn't even brought any family descendants. Could he be planning to attend himself?

At that age, what hope is there in cultivating immortality?"

Another old man, with an immortal air, gave a displeased chuckle. "Old has its merits. Daoist He, don't change the subject. We've all placed our bets. It's your turn to choose."

The square-capped man shook his head with a smile. "This tiny Nanxun Kingdom—we've come here for the first time. Ever since that Sha Star walked out from here a century ago, our sects have jointly distributed Ascension invitations here, hoping someone else might prove the Dao through martial arts and produce another powerful Martial Immortal.

But looking now, the people of this small nation lack talent. The so-called Eight Great Xiantian and other decrepit old men—though their martial arts are refined, they've lost all potential. How could they become Martial Immortals?

It seems this time, we can only pick those with spiritual roots from their younger descendants and bring them back to the sects to report. I'll sit out this bet."

"So be it!"

At that moment, another woman in red gave a faint smile and said, "Since Daoist He won't choose, I'll pick someone to bet on. I'll wager that the owner of the yet-unseen tenth invitation might be selected and taken away."

"The owners of the other nine invitations have all shown up. Only the tenth invitation's owner has never appeared—quite mysterious. There might be some hope. My bet is five Mid-grade Spirit Stones."

The female cultivator beside her, with a delicate oval face, covered her mouth in surprise and laughed. "Five Mid-grade Spirit Stones bet on an unknown mortal? What if the recipient of that tenth invitation never shows up at all? Senior Sister Luo is really throwing her weight around. It seems Senior Brother Luo's betrothal gifts when he proposed to you as his Dao Companion must have been quite generous."

The Old Man teased with a chuckle, "Daoist Luo hails from the Southern Domain Spirit Land. Betrothal gifts for forming Dao Companions in the Southern Domain have always been steep. Male cultivators there have to prepare a Cave Mansion, procure spirit boats and treasure chariots, and some even have to get a guardian spirit beast. A hard life, indeed."

All the world says immortals are blessed, but who knows the troubles of immortals?

Immortals are still people. Moreover, these so-called immortals spoken of by the experts of the Nanxun Kingdom are not true immortals—merely cultivators.

The many grandmasters who had roamed the Martial World for years had no idea they had become the horses in the immortals' betting ring, judged from on high.

Their red-faced, neck-vein-bulging struggles were, to the five cultivators, no different from fighting cocks in a pit pecking at each other—quite amusing.

The editor is on break, so the contract status probably won't be updated until next Monday. I hope readers who like this book can save some Monthly votes to support me next week. Also, the update time is tentatively set for midnight every night. It will change after the promotion push.