A Farmer's Journey To Immortality - Chapter 727 727: Iron Mountain Sect's Mysterious Benefactor
Fear spread among the sect members.
Yet at the same time, excitement burned in their eyes.
After all, the Core Formation realm was the absolute peak of existence in Dadangar Subcontinent. If someone manages to break that ceiling and really becomes a Nascent Soul King of this era, they would immediately become the de facto ruler of the subcontinent as a whole, even above the Lords.
Danger and opportunity had always walked together.
Heilam took a step forward.
His massive body stood firm against the pressure, like an unmoving mountain. His eyes shone with sharp light as he looked into the darkness of the cave.
“A treasure meant for Nascent Soul Kings,” he said slowly. “Do you know what that means?”
No one answered.
“It means risk,” he continued. “And it means a chance that may never come again.”
He turned around and faced the elders and disciples behind him.
“Our Iron Mountain Sect has paid a heavy price to reach this point,” Heilam said. “We lost people. We endured poison. We looked for and guarded this place for years. And we did all that while suffering from the humiliations dished out to us by the Big Five Sects. And yet, we made sure they didn’t get the wind of what we were doing. I, myself, stayed away from the guild’s affairs and let it get associated with a newly emerging power to focus on this cave. After doing all that, are we to stop now just because the danger is great?”
His voice grew louder.
“Cultivation has never been safe. If you fear death, you should never have stepped onto this path.”
Some elders straightened their backs.
Others still hesitated, their faces tight with worry.
Heilam nodded slowly when he saw them.
“I won’t force anyone,” he said. “Those who feel they cannot go further may stay outside. Guard the entrance. Protect the formation that remains, which can serve as our backup plan. Make sure nothing disturbs us from behind.”
A few elders bowed deeply.
“We will guard this place,” one of them said. “Please be careful, Sect Master.”
Heilam accepted their choice without judgment.
Then he turned back to the cave.
“For those who come with me,” he said, “stay close. Move carefully. From this point on, one mistake may cost your life.”
Saying this, Heilam stepped into the cave first.
His large body blocked most of the entrance as he moved forward, his shoulders brushing against the jagged stone walls. The elders followed behind him in a tight formation, while the weaker elders and chosen disciples stayed in the middle, protected on all sides.
The cave was wide but uneven. The ground dipped and rose like the inside of a giant beast’s throat. Dark green mist clung to the walls and ceiling, slowly drifting like living fog. Every breath tasted bitter. Even with Spirit grass and protective spells, the poison miasma pressed heavily on their bodies.
Water dripped from above, each drop hissing softly when it touched the ground.
The deeper they went, the heavier the pressure became.
At first, nothing happened.
The silence stretched, broken only by footsteps and labored breathing.
Then one of the elders slowed down.
His eyes widened.
“Something’s wrong—” he started to say.
A shadow rose from the ground beneath his feet.
It was not solid.
Poison mist twisted and gathered, taking the shape of a beast with a long neck and a wide mouth full of fog-like fangs. Its body flickered, half-there and half-not, like smoke trying to pretend it was flesh.
More shapes followed.
They rose from the walls. From the ceiling. From the poison mist itself.
Ghostly beasts.
Their forms were made of thick poison miasma, their eyes glowing a dull green. They let out soundless roars that still made the ears ring.
“Defensive formation!” Heilam shouted.
Spirit spells flared at once.
Fire washed over the first beast.
It passed through it.
Lightning struck another.
The ghostly body rippled, then reformed.
Blades of wind sliced through the mist, but the beasts did not bleed. They did not fall. They simply surged forward again.
The elders’ faces turned pale.
“These things don’t have real bodies!” someone yelled.
One of the ghostly beasts lunged and passed straight through an elder’s Spirit shield. The elder screamed as poison energy invaded his body, his skin turning dark as he staggered back.
Heilam stepped forward and slammed his foot into the ground.
A heavy wave of power spread out, pushing several beasts away. But even he frowned.
His attacks were not working the way they should.
“Use soul attacks!” he ordered.
A few elders changed their hand signs.
Soft, strange light formed around their heads. Invisible waves spread outward.
This time, the ghostly beasts shrieked.
Their bodies twisted, torn apart as if burned by something unseen. Several dissolved into thin smoke.
But the elders who cast those spells swayed on their feet.
One of them clutched his head, breathing hard.
“My consciousness… it hurts,” he groaned.
Soul-related Spirit spells worked, but they came at a heavy cost.
Each cast drained the mind, not the body.
After a few uses, the elders’ faces became pale. Their eyes lost focus. Sweat rolled down their faces as if they were sick.
And then more beasts appeared.
The poison mist thickened again.
New ghostly beasts formed where the old ones had vanished.
“Again?!” someone shouted in panic.
Heilam clenched his teeth.
Even he could not keep using soul attacks endlessly. Each cast pressed down on his own mind, making his thoughts slower and heavier.
The sect members were being overwhelmed.
They destroyed one batch, only for another to rise.
The cave seemed endless. The enemies did not tire. They did not fear death.
Heilam raised his fist and roared.
“Hold your ground!”
But even as he spoke, he knew this place was far more dangerous than expected.
The pressure inside the cave kept growing heavier.
Heilam could feel it clearly now. If this went on, more elders would collapse. Some might even lose their minds.
This was not the right time.
“We need to pull back,” Heilam thought. “Prepare better and return.”
His hand moved to his storage ring.
A dull gray crystal appeared in his palm. It was small, but the moment it showed itself, a cold and deep wave spread through the cave. This was a rare soul-related treasure. Even Heilam did not dare to use it for long.
He crushed the crystal.
A silent pulse spread out like a ripple in still water.
The ghostly beasts froze in place.
Their bodies trembled as if bound by invisible chains. Their movements slowed, their shrieks turning weak and broken.
Heilam took a deep breath and turned his head.
“Everyone, prepare to re—”
Before he could finish his words, a calm voice sounded behind him.
“Thank you, Sect Master, for buying time.”
Heilam’s eyes narrowed.
Gram Grisham stepped forward from the formation.
His pale face was calm, his eyes clear and focused despite the heavy soul pressure in the cave. He raised his hand and took out a small dark pouch from his storage ring.
He opened it.
A strange scent spread out, sharp and earthy.
Inside the pouch were dozens of black-green Spirit seeds. They looked dry and dull, like dead stones. Yet faint life pulsed within them.
Gram did not hesitate.
He channeled his Spirit essence into the seeds.
They trembled in his palm, then burst with life.
Gram threw them forward.
The seeds flew through the air and scattered among the ghostly beasts. The moment they touched the ground, the stone floor cracked.
Roots burst out.
Thin at first, then thick and fast.
In just a breath’s time, small trees rose from the ground. Their trunks were dark and wet, as if made of living flesh. Vines wrapped around them like muscles. Roots twisted and pulled free from the stone, lifting the trees upright.
They moved.
The demon trees stepped forward, using roots and vines as legs. They did not crawl. They ran.
They sprinted toward the frozen ghostly beasts.
Vines lashed out and wrapped around the poison bodies. The trees opened wide, split mouths lined with thorn-like growths.
They bit down.
The ghostly beasts shrieked.
Their poison miasma bodies were torn apart and sucked into the trees. The mist did not escape. It was swallowed, crushed, and absorbed.
Where the poison entered, dark fruits began to grow.
Round, glowing, and faintly transparent.
Ghostly poison fruits.
One by one, the beasts vanished.
The demon trees did not stop. They moved faster, hunting the remaining targets. Roots slammed into the ground. Vines pierced through misty bodies. Each kill fed the trees more.
The cave, moments ago filled with fear and screams, fell into shocked silence.
Heilam stared.
His large body stood still as stone.
“These… they’re eating them?” he muttered.
Another ghostly beast tried to flee, only to be tackled by two trees at once. They dragged it down and devoured it in seconds.
Within moments, the poison mist thinned.
The pressure eased.
Heilam slowly turned his head and looked at Gram Grisham.
Shock flashed in his eyes.
“What… are those?” he asked.
Gram lowered his hand and exhaled softly.
“A special Spirit plant,” he replied. “They feed on poison and soul residue. They are something I was given as a gift and a backup plan by someone I respect greatly. We can say that he is a huge benefactor of the Iron Mountain Sect as well.”
Heilam’s heart shook.
He had seen many strange things in his long life.
But this…
This was beyond his expectations.
Who was this benefactor of the Iron Mountain Sect that Grisham spoke of? And how could he plan something this crucial in advance?
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
