Chapter Eleven: Ruins Beneath the Earth

Within the tides of the Spiritual Sea, the very moment Wang Ran stepped in, he felt an endless surge of spiritual energy rushing toward him, eager to burrow into his every pore. Instinctively, he began to circulate the cultivation technique he had learned as a Qi Condensation disciple of the Sole Self Sect—the introductory art known as “The Sole Self Transformation.”

Though the name sounded impressive, in truth, it was quite ordinary, merely a basic technique for the Qi Condensation stage, rated two stars. Once one reached the peak of Qi Condensation, this technique reached its limit; unable to help its practitioner break through to Foundation Establishment, it could offer no further progress.

Generally, upon comprehending the Dao and forming their Foundation, cultivators would proceed with their own self-derived Daoist arts, often referred to as their Life-bound Technique. At that point, “The Sole Self Transformation” would be discarded.

As Wang Ran entered the tides of the Spiritual Sea, the immense influx of spiritual energy compelled him to cultivate automatically. The spiritual sea, long imprisoned at the heart of this formation, seemed to find an outlet at last, pouring madly into his body. So rapid was the surge that, centered around Wang Ran, a faint vortex began to form—a phenomenon seen only in moments of extraordinary cultivation speed.

Wang Ran was possessed of rare talent, a genius not seen in a century. If not for being overshadowed by Ye Cang and his thousand-year holy body, Wang Ran’s prowess would have been remembered by many. He and Ye Cang had joined the sect at the same time, both lauded as prodigies among the outer disciples. Ye Cang’s cultivation advanced with stunning speed—by thirteen, he had reached the peak of Qi Condensation, astonishing the entire Sole Self Sect.

But in truth, Wang Ran was not far behind, achieving the same peak at fifteen. Yet, under the radiance of Ye Cang’s reputation, few knew of Wang Ran’s accomplishment.

Beholding the extraordinary spectacle of the spiritual sea, Wang Ran could only sigh in frustration. As expected, even with the support of the Spiritual Sea, his cultivation could not advance a single step further. He had already reached the zenith of Qi Condensation; without comprehending his life-bound Daoist art and breaking through to Foundation Establishment, no amount of spiritual energy here would aid his progress. In other words, this sea was now useless to him.

Frustrated, Wang Ran was about to depart when suddenly, a system notification chimed in his mind, startling him.

“Ding! A hidden inheritance has been detected nearby. Would you like to explore it?”

Upon hearing this prompt, Su Qi’s expression grew increasingly excited. He had stumbled upon a hidden inheritance! As expected, he was the true protagonist of this world. He was more than familiar with such things—hidden inheritances featured in countless novels and dramas he’d read and watched in his previous life.

Such was the cliché of the xianxia hero: leveling up, slaying monsters, collecting treasures, seeking out caves, academies, and auction houses.

Having crossed into this world for so many years, Wang Ran finally encountered this for himself today. Since a hidden inheritance was nearby, there was no way he’d leave now.

Wang Ran’s whole body trembled with anticipation; he fancied himself adopting the legendary “tiger’s body shakes” pose, and said with some flair, “Explore.”

“Ding! Navigating for host…”

With that soft system notification, a virtual map appeared before Wang Ran’s eyes as if he were playing a game. He could see the path the system had laid out, and following its guidance, he pressed deeper into the dense tides of the spiritual sea.

Before long, he reached the very heart of the spiritual tide. The vastness of this spiritual sea was beyond comprehension, and within it, all sense of direction was lost. Even Wang Ran himself would never have found this place without the system’s navigation.

“Ding! Host has arrived at the hidden inheritance trigger point.”

Wang Ran halted, looking around, then down at his feet. The ground beneath was completely unremarkable.

“Could the inheritance be beneath the ground?” Wang Ran wondered aloud.

“Ding! The host is indeed astute—it lies below.”

A smile appeared on Wang Ran’s face, though he mused, “Wait, if it’s underground, how am I supposed to get it? I haven’t learned any earth-burrowing techniques.”

“Ding! The system recommends the host purchase a Luoyang shovel.”

“A Luoyang shovel? Isn’t that for grave robbers?” Wang Ran stroked his chin, suddenly struck by a thought. “Wait, could this be a tomb below?”

This time, the system offered no reply, but its silence seemed confirmation enough.

Wang Ran sighed and turned the idea over in his mind. With such a massive formation here, it was surely laid by the Sole Self Sect—likely a sect-protecting grand formation. If there really was an ancient tomb and inheritance below, it undoubtedly had ties to the sect, perhaps treasures left by a patriarch.

After weighing his options, Wang Ran decided to investigate—after all, opportunities like this were rare.

“System, exchange one Luoyang shovel for me.”

“Ding! Exchange successful, deducting twenty Dao Attainment Points!”

The notification left Wang Ran dumbfounded. Then he erupted in protest, “What? Twenty points? Are you robbing me? Why didn’t you warn me it was this expensive?”

The system, once again, responded with silence.

At that moment, a flash of golden light appeared in Wang Ran’s hand—a Luoyang shovel had materialized, though his heart bled at the cost. After a whole night’s effort, he’d only just accumulated forty or fifty Dao Attainment Points, hoping to save up for the illusory Flame Armor. Now, that plan was dashed.

He could only swallow his bitterness and make do with his purchase.

With a crunch, Wang Ran drove the shovel into the ground—then froze in astonishment. He hadn’t even dug a hole, yet the shovel glowed with a brilliant light. In the next instant, with a swoosh, Wang Ran and the shovel vanished into thin air.

Beneath the earth, Wang Ran was whisked along at breakneck speed, the shovel leading the way as they tunneled downward. Strangely, not a speck of dirt clung to him; wherever he passed, the soil parted to let him through, then closed seamlessly behind him.

Such a miraculous experience was new to Wang Ran. It seemed the Luoyang shovel had its own earth-burrowing function after all—not a waste of those twenty Dao Attainment Points.

He had no idea how long he traveled before finally emerging from the soil into an immense subterranean space, finding himself plummeting through midair.

As the scene below came into view, Wang Ran’s eyes widened in shock. There, nestled within the mountain’s heart, sprawled a vast palace complex, stretching for thousands of yards—gilded copper tiles, ancient and imposing, coiled like a slumbering dragon.

Part of the palace was embedded in the rock walls, appearing both strange and magnificent in the depths below. The flying eaves bore carvings of phoenixes and dragons, though some had been worn or damaged by the passage of time. Dust lay thick over all, but it was easy to imagine how splendid and grand it must once have been.

With a quick glance from midair, Wang Ran counted roughly thirteen palaces, arranged from high to low. The highest was the most ornate, the lowest, the largest.

He plummeted swiftly, barely having time to put away the Luoyang shovel; a flash of light coursed over his body as he activated his Diamond Glass Body technique.

With a thunderous crash, Wang Ran landed feet-first, the impact smashing the bricks and tiles beneath him into a circular pit—a striking sight.

Had it been an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator, such a fall would have meant certain death. Wang Ran, however, was different; his physical body had reached Foundation Establishment, and he cultivated an eight-star Daoist art, so he was unharmed—though his legs tingled and his muscles quivered from the shock.

He raised his hand, brushing the dust from his sleeves, and looked up at the sprawling palace complex, standing at its lowest point.

Ahead, at the end of the palace steps, a grand plaque hung above the main gate, inscribed in bold, dragon-like calligraphy:

“The Thirteen Towers of the Azure Sea.”