Cultivation Nerd-Chapter 268: Playing Catch With An Immortal

From the surface of the human-sized egg, a soft crackling sound echoed through the stone room. Then, with a wet, squelching pop, the top split open and a small, slick head emerged.

It was a bat's head, damp, glistening, and covered in thin strands of translucent goo. Its black, beady eyes bulged slightly, as if too large for its skull, glassy and unblinking as they scanned the dim surroundings. There was something eerie in how still it was. Unnaturally silent for a creature just born.

Then it let out a soft whine.

High-pitched and breathy, almost like the mewl of a newborn kitten. Fragile, uncertain… and strangely innocent. The sound didn't match its appearance, and that contrast made it all the more unsettling. This malformed, bat-like thing, calling out in such a small, helpless voice. Its head tilted slightly, ears twitching, as though listening for a response.

As monstrous beasts grew stronger, they gained human-like intelligence. Perhaps some became logical enough to place their eggs in another's nest in case of an emergency.

That was smart. Maybe the parent bird had been injured.

Was this common? Logically, as beast intelligence increased, this kind of strategy should've been possible, especially among bird-type monstrous beasts. Knock out the native egg. Drop in their own.

It was an interesting concept, monstrous beasts beginning to show human-like scheming as they evolved. After all, even with intelligence, they didn't gain human experience.

Did intelligence alone eventually breed cunning?

Well… something to think about.

Though in this case, it wasn't uniquely human. Even in my past life, there were Cuckoo birds, creatures that laid their eggs in the nests of others.

The little guy turned my way, drawn to the only living presence nearby. Its creepy, glassy eyes locked onto mine as if it were staring into my soul.

Its head wobbled unsteadily on a thin neck, black eyes darting about with a strange mix of confusion and instinct. Then it gave a sudden, sharp cough, its tiny body convulsing.

And with that cough came a sputter of heat and light.

A small splatter of flame burst from its mouth, licking the air in a quick flash before vanishing. The fire hissed as it struck the wooden floor, leaving behind a faint scorch mark and the smell of burnt mucus.

The bat let out a surprised, almost pitiful squeak, blinking like it hadn't expected that at all. It tilted its head again, lips twitching, a lazy trail of smoke drifting from its nostrils.

The moment was brief, but the message was clear:

This thing breathed fire.

I approached slowly, crouching as he blinked up at me with those bulging, glassy eyes. Despite the earlier cough of flame, he didn't seem hostile, just confused and twitchy.

I reached out and gently patted his damp head. The membrane of his skin was still warm and sticky from the egg.

That's when he snarled.

Without warning, his jaws snapped open and clamped down on my wrist with a wet, sudden crunch. His tiny, sharp teeth dug in hard, like he was trying to rip through bone.

I didn't flinch. I just stared down at him calmly.

As if provoked by my complete lack of reaction, he bit down harder, twisting slightly, like he was trying to tear flesh.

A yelp followed almost immediately.

Then a soft, wounded whine.

His jaws loosened, and he pulled back slightly, confused and clearly in pain. The jade barrier I wore beneath my sleeve had absorbed the full force of the bite, and judging by the way his teeth scraped against it, they hadn't gotten far. Not that he could've pierced my skin anyway, not with the natural density of my Qi reinforcing my body, or my already toughened skin.

Still, I wasn't careless. His fangs might've had some sort of piercing or venomous property. Some rare creatures did. And it would be downright embarrassing to die because of something small and unexpected.

I kept my gaze on him, watchful, as he licked his aching mouth and looked back up at me. This time, there was a mixture of frustration… and reluctant recognition in his eyes.

Despite the bite, I kept petting him. My hand moved slowly over the damp fur along his head and down his back.

This time, he didn't resist. No growling. No flinching. Just quiet stillness. His head lowered, shoulders hunching slightly, and he stared down at the floor like a guilty dog caught chewing shoes.

"You're a cute guy, aren't you?" I muttered, half amused.

Right on cue, Fu Yating walked in.

Her eyes fell on the creature, and her face twisted in immediate disgust. Wu Yan, who had been following just behind, took one look at me crouched beside the strange bat-beast, caught sight of Fu Yating already rolling her eyes and without a word, turned right around and left.

Smart girl.

I was pretty sure we annoyed other people more with our arguments than we annoyed each other.

"That thing looks ugly," Fu Yating said flatly.

"How dare you…" I replied, already offended on the little guy's behalf.

And just like that, we were off. Another pointless, ridiculous argument sparked from nothing, carried on purely by the momentum of our own personalities.

It wasn't about the bat.

It never was.

A part of me, watching her fire back sarcastic remarks with a half-smile, finally understood why some people willingly dragged drama into their relationships.

It was fun.

Gods, Fu Yating and I had such a toxic relationship.

…

A week had passed since Batsy hatched from her egg, and we were now playing together on the grassy yard I’d grown quite fond of, a soft green patch created entirely by my fake summer biome array. The sun above was warm, the breeze gentle, and the flowers blooming around us had no idea it was actually the middle of winter just a few meters beyond the boundary.

Yes, Fu Yating had relentlessly complained about the name. Apparently, “Batsy” made no sense in our native tongue, and the fact that I refused to explain the joke only made it worse.

To add to the chaos, I’d recently confirmed that Batsy was, in fact, a she. Which meant my original name, Batman, was officially off the table. A tragic loss. We could’ve been the perfect duo. I had almost begun learning advanced shadow-related Earth Grade elemental techniques, too. Thematically, we were this close to greatness.

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While I was lost in thought, daydreaming about leaping across rooftops with my adorable, fire-breathing bat sidekick, Batsy lunged at my head in a very unheroic fashion. She chomped down hard… and instantly regretted it.

A dull crack echoed out as her teeth collided with the jade barrier layered under my robes. She let out a pitiful, high-pitched whine and rolled over in the grass, nursing her jaw. Poor girl had grown stronger, yes, but not smart enough to stop headbutting and biting me. Also, she was now strong enough to hurt herself quite a lot if she bit down too hard.

Then I felt it.

A surge of Qi, roaring through the sky like a blade through silk. A blazing presence tore across the boundary of my array, scattering the summer illusion with a burst of winter wind. I restored the array instantly.

Zun Gon.

He streaked down like a flaming meteor, robe trailing embers and Qi spiraling off him in waves. He landed hard enough to rattle the air, then looked down and frowned slightly at the sight of Batsy rolling on her back, holding her face with her wings.

But he didn’t ask.

Didn’t comment.

Just looked up and said, voice steady as ever:

“We’ve made contact with the Blazing Sun Immortal.”

I nodded, outwardly calm. “Okay.”

Internally?

Finally!

My thoughts roared like a bonfire.

But Zun Gon didn’t need to see that.

“He asked to meet the temporary leader, which is me,” Zun Gon continued, voice level but eyes carrying a flicker of unease. “And the future of the Sect… which is you. He didn’t name us directly, but…”

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a tight, slightly nervous smile. “You’re the poster boy. So it makes sense.”

I gave him a flat look, then gently patted Batsy’s head.

It didn't suit someone of his age and power to act nervous. But I could understand.

“Are you ready to set off?” he asked. And before I could answer, he added, “Actually, we should leave immediately, just to be safe.”

“Sure,” I said.

As I kept stroking the bat’s head, I silently activated Eight Mind Phantoms, sending a controlled pulse through our connection to suppress any sudden bursts of aggression. I didn’t need her trying to bite Wu Yan again, or barbecuing Fu Yating’s hair, or worse getting dismembered by Speedy in his half-asleep rage.

“I’m ready,” I said. “What are we using to travel?”

Zun Gon didn’t answer with words. He simply placed a hand on my shoulder.

Flame-like crimson Qi bloomed around us, fluttering with ethereal light and then we were off, blasting into the sky like a cannonbolt. The wind howled around us, the landscape below blurring into smeared colors of forest, stone, and sky.

With the world racing beneath us and the air pressure biting against my skin, Zun Gon finally decided it was a good time for a conversation.

“I’ve analyzed what was mentioned in the Immortal’s message. I… only hope it’s real,” he said, voice nearly lost to the wind.

Message? My gut tensed.

I really hoped he wasn’t talking about some flimsy envelope or carved jade slip. Because those could be faked. And if this was a trap, then someone strong enough to kill Zun Gon would have to be involved.

Which meant a Nascent Soul cultivator.

And if that was the case… I wasn’t escaping anything.

“Message?” I asked, tone sharp. “Didn’t you meet him yet?”

Zun Gon shook his head. “Multiple people heard a voice in their head, clear as day, telling them where to go and who should come. I heard it too.”

That gave me pause.

A voice in the head? Already suspicious. But the moment he said he heard it, my worry deepened.

Someone or something was speaking directly into the minds of cultivators. And suppose Zun Gon, a seasoned Core Formation cultivator, hadn’t sensed it happening until after it occurred. In that case, we weren’t dealing with something normal.

Only an Immortal could bypass a Core Formation cultivator’s spiritual defenses without even a ripple of Qi.

Or… it could be mass hysteria. But I wasn’t counting on that.

It didn’t take long before we arrived at the supposed destination: a stretch of untamed land beyond the Blazing Sun Sect’s forests. No exact coordinates. Just a direction and a strange sense of arrival.

After a long flight, we finally slowed and descended, now walking through the outer wilderness. Before long, we spotted a village nestled near the trees. It wasn’t large, with just muddy paths, wooden fences, and a scattering of weathered homes. The roads were slushy from the dampness of approaching winter. Smoke curled lazily from a few chimneys, and the scent of firewood lingered in the air.

It was one of the catalogued villages near the Sect. Not fortified like a proper town, but it didn’t need to be. The Sect kept nearby areas relatively safe, often clearing out any monstrous beasts that wandered too close.

“What now?” I asked, eyes narrowing as I spotted a group of teenagers laughing near a wide bend in the river. A few boys were clumsily fishing, their poles barely steady in their hands.

“Haha! Bet I catch a big one this time!” one shouted. “I’ve had bad luck all summer; it has to turn around now!”

“By bad luck, you mean the girl who turned you down?” another teased, and they all burst out laughing.

Zun Gon followed my gaze and gave a small nod. “We should ask some of the locals.”

We approached the group slowly, our robes and the quiet confidence in our steps clearly catching their attention. One of the boys perked up immediately.

“Oh hey, outsiders!” he called out, grinning widely. “Are you guys cultivators? Can you test my cultivation talent? Please?”

Of course, it was the same kid who’d been mocking his friend seconds ago. He had a starry-eyed look on his face.

“We’re just looking for a local guide,” Zun Gon said. “Has anything strange happened around here recently?”

The laughter faded a little as the boys exchanged glances. A few shrugged. One scratched his head. They looked genuinely confused.

“No?” said one. “Nothing weird. Just the usual. Fishing’s been bad. Cold’s coming early.”

Another chimed in, “The old well’s still dry, but that’s normal after summer.”

I frowned slightly, sensing no deception. No flicker of unease in their expressions. No hidden tension.

Just a quiet village, unaware that something much bigger might be moving around them.

“Are you guys cultivators?” asked one of them again, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Yes,” Zun Gon replied simply.

“Pick me! I can be your local guide and tell you all the secret stuff around here!” said the same boy, practically bouncing with excitement.

“You will show us the way around and to people who know things,” Zun Gon added, his tone firm, more command than request.

“Sure,” the teen said with a grin, already motioning for us to follow. “I’ll first show you the presumably haunted woods. Creepy place. People say you can hear whispers there. Good place to bring a date, even the girly girls will cling to you!”

He led us with a cheerful gait, cutting through the slushy path and deeper into the treeline. It didn’t take long before the woods began to press in around us, tall, dark, and quiet. The kind of quiet that made even birds nervous.

Zun Gon, however, wasn’t having it. He was tense, eyes scanning the shadows, his patience clearly fraying.

He stepped forward and placed a hand on the teenager’s shoulder. “Hey–”

But he never finished.

The boy turned his head slowly toward Zun Gon and locked eyes with him, and something shifted.

“How rude,” the teenager said softly. “Youth should be full of wildness and fun.”

His voice changed. Subtle, but undeniable. The cheerfulness melted away, replaced by an unsettling calm. Ancient. Amused. Powerful.

“Youth should be dangerous and wild. Since when did the Sect start intervening in that?”

Zun Gon didn’t move. He just stood there, hand frozen mid-gesture, his expression hollowed out in shock. As if he were staring into a ghost from a life he’d left buried.

My senses picked up nothing. No sudden spike in Qi. No trace of spiritual pressure. Nothing but a faint warmth in the air.

But something had definitely happened.

Then the boy’s gaze slid to me, those light-hearted eyes now impossibly old.

“How boring,” he sighed. “Since when did my Sect’s most talented youngster turn out to be some otherworlder?”

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. It felt like someone had peeled back the skin of my thoughts and left them bare.

The words hit harder than they should have, not for what they said, but for who was saying them.

He wasn’t hiding it anymore. The playfulness had vanished.

This wasn’t a teenager joking by the river.

This was the Blazing Sun Immortal.