A Farmer's Journey To Immortality - Chapter 728 728: Grisham's Betryal?

While everyone was left shocked and drained, Grisham moved among the strange little demon trees with calm steps.

One by one, he plucked the ghost poison fruits that had formed on their branches. Each fruit looked hazy, like mist trapped inside a thin skin. A faint chill came from them, mixed with a sharp poison smell.

He opened his storage ring and stored the fruits carefully, not wasting even one. His movements were steady and practiced, as if he had done this many times before.

“These are valuable,” Grisham said in a clear voice. “Don’t let them fade away. Put them into your storage rings. These poison Spirit resources can be used for pills, tools, and even special arrays.”

The remaining sect members looked at the fruits with mixed feelings. Fear was still in their hearts, but greed and hope slowly took its place. They followed Grisham’s words and began collecting the fruits as well. Some were clumsy at first, but Grisham corrected them without showing any impatience.

Soon, the cave passage was quieter. The ghostly beasts were gone, and the demon trees slowly withered after finishing their task, turning into dust on the ground.

Heilam stood a short distance away and watched everything in silence.

Grisham had saved them. There was no doubt about that. Without him, this trip would have ended in retreat or heavy losses. Yet the more Heilam watched him, the more uneasy he felt.

Grisham was too calm.

This was not the calm of someone forcing himself to stay steady. It was the calm of someone who already knew what would happen. From the poison miasma to the ghostly beasts, Grisham had answers ready before the danger fully showed itself.

And then there was the benefactor.

Grisham spoke of him often. With respect. With care. Almost with loyalty.

Heilam narrowed his eyes slightly.

He had not managed the sect closely for a long time. His focus had been on the Dao Beast’s cave, on ancient scrolls and lost records. Still, he knew what had happened outside.

The Iron Mountain Sect had formed an alliance with a newly emerged Lord. Aksai Everwood.

The same man who had killed one of their prodigies. The same man who had killed several elders.

When Aksai stepped into the Core Formation realm, the sect had no real choice. Fighting a true Lord was foolish. Heilam himself had agreed to stay silent and let the matter rest. Pride could be swallowed. Survival could not be ignored.

He had buried his anger for the sake of the sect and for the sake of this cave.

But burying hatred did not mean it vanished.

Heilam knew that silence did not promise safety. A Lord might forgive. Or he might simply wait.

As Heilam looked at Grisham placing the last ghost poison fruit into his ring, a thought formed in his mind.

Was this all just a coincidence?

Or had Aksai’s hand reached into this cave through Grisham?

Heilam wanted to ask. He wanted to demand answers.

But he held his tongue. This was not the time.

The cave still lay ahead, dark and deep. And whatever waited inside might force all hidden truths into the open soon enough.

Without taking rest, Heilam gave a short order, and the group moved deeper into the cave.

The path ahead was wide at first, then slowly narrowed. The stone walls were wet and dark, covered in thin layers of green and purple slime. Poison mist flowed along the ground like low fog, curling around their boots.

The little poison demon trees moved first.

They walked on tangled roots that lifted and pushed them forward like legs. Thin vines swayed around their bodies, sharp at the tips. They did not speak or make sound, yet they spread out in a loose line, almost like trained guards.

Whenever the poison mist thickened, the trees leaned forward and absorbed it. The fog faded wherever they passed, making the path easier for the sect members behind them.

Heilam watched this in silence.

The cave tested them again and again.

At one point, sharp stone spikes burst from the ground without warning. The moment the stone shifted, Grisham raised his hand.

“Stop.”

He took out a small talisman and crushed it. A soft wave spread out and froze the ground for a breath. The spikes stopped halfway through rising. The poison demon trees rushed forward and wrapped their roots around the stone, draining the poison inside. The spikes crumbled into dust.

They moved on.

Further ahead, a narrow passage opened into a hollow chamber. The walls were covered in strange marks that pulsed with dull light. As soon as a disciple stepped closer, the marks flared and sent out thin poison threads.

Grisham stepped in front before anyone could react.

“These are feeding traps,” he said calmly. “They grow stronger when attacked.”

He scattered a few more seeds on the ground. The demon trees grew again, small and fast. They pressed their vines against the walls and began to drink in the poison threads. The glowing marks dimmed and died one by one.

The chamber fell silent.

Time passed without anyone noticing.

Hours slipped by as they moved deeper.

Sometimes poison beasts tried to form from the mist, but the demon trees rushed them down and tore them apart before they could take shape. Sometimes strange pools blocked their way. Grisham tested them, collected the liquid, and sealed it away as rare poison essence.

Every danger became a resource.

Every trap turned into a gain.

Heilam’s steps slowed more than once as he watched from behind.

Grisham never rushed. He never panicked. Even when the cave shook or strange sounds echoed from the dark, his face remained calm. He always seemed to know where to stand and when to act.

Heilam had lived long enough to know the difference between talent and preparation.

This was not luck.

This was planning.

The poison demon trees marched on, guarding the group like loyal beasts. The sect members followed with growing trust and quiet awe. Losses were none. Fear was still there, but it no longer ruled them.

As they moved even deeper, the air grew heavier. The poison became thicker, sharper, almost alive.

Heilam clenched his fist. Whatever lay ahead was close.

And whoever had truly prepared for this place had done so long before the Iron Mountain Sect ever stepped inside.

****

A few hours later.

Eventually, the path opened into a wide hollow space.

The cave ceiling rose high above them, rough and uneven, like the inside of a giant nest. Poison mist drifted lazily through the air. All around the chamber, cave openings covered the walls and floor. Some were wide enough for a dozen people to walk through at once. Others were narrow and dark, barely large enough for one person to squeeze into.

It looked like a maze.

The sect members slowed and then stopped.

No one moved forward.

Quiet eyes turned toward Heilam. He stood at the center of the group, his tall body still and steady. Even so, he did not rush to make a choice.

After a moment, he looked at Grisham.

“How do you think we should proceed?” Heilam asked.

Grisham stepped forward and studied the openings. His pale eyes moved from one tunnel to another. He closed his eyes for a short moment, as if feeling the flow of the cave itself.

Then he spoke.

“We should not all move together,” Grisham said. “We split into small squads. Four or five people each. Every squad takes one opening.”

The sect members stirred slightly.

“The sect master and the grand elders should move alone,” Grisham continued. “Each of you choose your own path. If danger appears, at least not everyone will fall. If someone finds a safe path or a good chance, they return here and leave a message using Spirit scrolls. Those who retreat from unsafe routes can also leave warnings.”

Heilam listened without interrupting.

When Grisham finished, Heilam nodded.

“This is a good plan,” Heilam said. “Do as he says.”

Orders spread quickly.

The sect members gathered into small groups. Quiet words were exchanged. Some looked nervous. Some looked excited. Each squad chose an opening and stepped into the dark, one after another.

Soon, the large chamber began to empty.

The poison demon trees split as well, following different groups or standing guard near the paths.

Heilam watched them go in silence.

When only a few remained, Heilam turned and chose a cave opening near the left wall. It was wide and smooth, almost too clean.

He stepped inside.

The cave stretched forward in a straight line. The ground was flat. The air was calm. There was no pressure. No poison surge. No sense of danger at all.

That was when Heilam frowned.

His steps slowed.

Something was wrong.

This place felt… empty.

Too safe.

He stopped and stood still for a breath. His instincts, sharpened by many years, whispered a warning.

He turned around.

Instead of going forward, Heilam walked back toward the crossroads.

As soon as he stepped out, his eyes narrowed.

Grisham was there.

He stood near one of the larger cave openings, his hands raised. Thick streams of earth-element Spirit energy flowed from his palms. Stone shifted and cracked. The cave entrance slowly closed as rock fused together, sealing it completely.

Heilam’s heart skipped a beat.

“Grisham,” Heilam said slowly. “What… what the fuc*k are you doing?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com