Immortality Cultivation

Chapter 267: Unconscious in a Tree Hole

Pain...

Boundless, endless pain surged from his limbs and bones, from the depths of his Soul, like countless rusty, blunt knives cutting and grinding repeatedly between his bones, in his Meridians, and in his Sea of Consciousness.

Fang Hao’s consciousness floated in this vast ocean of pain like a withered leaf ready to shatter at any moment.

He felt as if he had been thrown into the molten heart of the earth, his internal organs burning; at other times, he felt like he was frozen under ten thousand years of ice, his very thoughts numbing.

In his ears, there seemed to be countless people shouting and fighting—the resentful roar of the Sun Family Old Ancestor, the excited humming of the battle heaven axe, the silent protection of Old Jin, and his own heavy, bellows-like breathing and heartbeat.

He wanted to move, to open his eyes, to take control of his body, but his bones felt as if they had fallen apart.

His Spiritual Qi was as dry as a cracked riverbed, and his Divine Soul sent waves of tearing pain; even the slightest thought made his Soul twitch in agony.

"Must not die... cannot die here..." A faint but persistent thought flickered stubbornly like a candle flame in a storm.

He recalled the Qingyun Courtyard in the Heavenly Capital, the life-and-death struggle in the Savage Secret Realm, the surging Battle Intent when he first obtained the battle heaven axe, and the Sun Family Old Ancestor’s frantic, desperate roar and the darkness of the Black Dragon Mountain Range that seemed to devour everything before he fell into the mountain forest.

Right, the Black Dragon Mountain Range... I escaped inside... but is it safe here?

This thought startled him, his survival instinct overcoming the boundless pain and exhaustion.

He had to wake up! He had to recover a sliver of strength as quickly as possible! In this lawless place where people are eaten without a trace, unconsciousness was equivalent to death!

He gritted his teeth and used the last bit of control he had over his body to try to operate the Chaos Derivation Art.

This miraculous Cultivation Technique seemed capable of deriving all things and harmonizing Yin and Yang; perhaps it could alleviate the chaotic, ice-and-fire-intertwined injuries in his body.

However, as soon as he operated the Cultivation Technique, his Meridians felt a cutting pain, and his dry Dantian showed no reaction at all.

Instead, it aggravated his injuries, making his throat sweet, and he nearly vomited blood again.

"It won’t work... the injuries are too severe, not a drop of Spiritual Qi remains, and forcing the Cultivation Technique will only worsen the injuries..." Fang Hao’s heart sank.

He forced himself to calm down, no longer trying to mobilize Spiritual Qi, and instead focused all his attention on his Sea of Consciousness.

The Sea of Consciousness was also in Chaos.

The originally calm "lake" was now like a storm-swept sea, surging with waves and filled with mist.

The light representing his Divine Soul power had dimmed to the extreme, and fine cracks had even appeared at the edges.

This was the aftereffect of forcibly activating the battle heaven axe and using the Soul-Shocking Spike; his Divine Soul was overdrawn and on the verge of collapse.

"Calm... calm down..." Fang Hao tried hard to recall the descriptions in the Chaos Derivation Art regarding nourishing the Divine Soul and calming the Sea of Consciousness.

Refined the yin yang harmony pill—that was not a specific cultivation method, but a mysterious Concept guidance.

He no longer tried to "control" or "repair," but tried to "feel" and "contain."

He sank his consciousness into the chaotic Sea of Consciousness, not to resist the tearing pain and chaotic waves, but like an observer, a container, to feel the source of the pain and contain the surging waves.

Gradually, amidst the boundless pain, he caught a strange feeling—it was not just destructive Chaos.

In the depths of that Chaos, where ice and fire clashed and annihilated, there seemed to be a wisp of extremely faint, extremely pure, undifferentiated Chaos Qi quietly germinating and circulating.

This aura was so faint it was almost negligible, yet it carried an ancient charm of encompassing and evolving everything.

It was like the gentlest stream, flowing slowly over the fine cracks in his Sea of Consciousness.

Where it passed, although it could not immediately repair them, it slightly alleviated the intense pain and calmed the churning waves a little.

It was the Chaos Derivation Art! It was the prototype of that Chaos Qi!

In his Sea of Consciousness, which was on the verge of collapse, it operated on its own, protecting his last bit of Divine Soul Origin and beginning to slowly nourish and harmonize it!

This discovery cheered Fang Hao up.

Although the effect was minimal, it at least gave him hope.

He was no longer impatient and did not try to force anything; he just immersed all his attention in that wisp of faint Chaos Qi, following its flow and feeling the Concept of containment and evolution.

Time passed bit by bit amidst the boundless pain and this faint but firm repair.

Fang Hao did not know how long had passed—perhaps a day, perhaps a month, perhaps even longer.

He had lost all perception of the outside world, save for the endless pain and that wisp of Chaos Qi, which was like a straw to a drowning man.

Finally, at one moment, he felt the severe pain in his body seem to lessen just a little.

It was not a hallucination; it had truly lessened.

The conflicting feeling of ice and fire also seemed to ease a bit.

Most importantly, he felt that his control over his body had recovered a little.

He tried, ever so slightly, to move a finger.

A sharp, aching pain came, but his finger did indeed move.

"Can move... I am still alive..." An indescribable feeling of bitterness and ecstasy surged into Fang Hao’s heart.

He carefully, like a snail moving, began to try to control other parts of his body.

His eyelids felt as heavy as if they were weighted with lead, and he used all his strength to barely open a slit.

The first thing that came into view was the rough, moss-covered wooden texture above his head.

A damp, slightly rotten scent of soil and vegetation rushed into his nasal cavity.

He rolled his eyes, his vision blurry, and could only barely distinguish that this was a not-too-large, naturally formed tree hole.

The light was extremely dim, with only a few faint rays of natural light penetrating through the cracks in the tree hole.

He remained in the same posture as before he fell unconscious, curled up in a corner of the tree hole, covered with some withered leaves and dust, cold and damp.

On his left side was the battle heaven axe that had saved his life; it was now dull and lifeless, lying quietly there, but he still gripped the handle tightly.

On the ground to his right were scattered a few empty jade bottles—the Medicinal Pill bottles he had stuffed into his mouth before losing consciousness.

By now, they had long been absorbed by his body’s instincts, leaving only some medicinal dregs.

Fang Hao took a long, slow breath.

The cold air, mixed with the scent of decay, rushed into his lungs, but it made him feel a glimmer of the reality of being alive.

He was still alive; he hadn’t been eaten by a Demon Beast, hadn’t been found by the Sun Family, and hadn’t died of his severe injuries while unconscious.

Enduring the soreness all over his body, he moved his neck with difficulty and looked outside the tree hole.

Through the narrow gap, he could see that outside was a dense, dimly lit forest; tall trees blocked the sky, and vines were intertwined.

In the distance, a few calls of unknown birds and beasts could be vaguely heard, and further away, there seemed to be the sound of gurgling water.

It was very quiet all around, with only the rustling of wind through the leaves.

It seemed that this place was temporarily safe.

The few simple Restrictions he had hastily set up before losing consciousness seemed to still be working, keeping his life aura and Spiritual Qi fluctuations (though they were almost non-existent now) to a minimum.

Fang Hao breathed a slight sigh of relief, but then his heart tightened again.

Safety was only temporary.

He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious; had the Sun Family chased him and searched?

What kind of dangers were hidden inside this Black Dragon Mountain Range?

The immediate priority was to recover some strength as quickly as possible, even if it was just the power to protect himself.

He no longer tried to operate the complete Chaos Derivation Art, as that would affect his injuries.

Instead, he started from the simplest, most basic breathing and meditation, coordinating with the wisp of Chaos Qi circulating in his Sea of Consciousness, and tried to absorb Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi from the outside extremely slowly.

The Spiritual Qi here was mixed and impure, far inferior to the Heavenly Capital, and even inferior to the Qingyun Courtyard.

It was also mixed with a faint, uncomfortable, chaotic, cold, and even a trace of extremely weak Devilish Qi (perhaps because it was close to the Savage Secret Realm).

But for Fang Hao now, having some was better than having none.

He was like a sponge that had been dried for billions of years, greedily yet cautiously absorbing every bit of available energy.

The mixed Spiritual Qi entered his body, and under the weak but mysterious guidance of the Chaos Derivation Art, it was slowly filtered and purified, turning into wisps of weak but pure Chaos Qi, beginning to moisten his dry and damaged Meridians, nourish his nearly exhausted Dantian, and repair his damaged internal organs.

This process was despairingly slow.

Every time he absorbed a bit of Spiritual Qi, it was accompanied by a stabbing pain in his Meridians.

But Fang Hao had enough patience.

He had been through moments even more desperate than this.

He moved this weak Spiritual Qi little by little, like an ant moving house, drop by drop wearing away stone.

At the same time, he also focused his attention on his Physical Body.

The Foundation of the third level of the Hundred Refinements Golden Body Art was still there.

Although he was severely injured this time, with multiple fractured bones, damaged Meridians, and displaced internal organs, his strong Physical Body Foundation also gave him amazing resilience.

Under the nourishment of those wisps of Chaos Qi and residual medicinal power, he could feel his broken bones slowly healing, his displaced internal organs returning to their positions, and his damaged Meridians slowly self-repairing, although the speed was agonizingly slow.

Time passed bit by bit in this recovery, which was so slow it was almost stagnant.

The light outside the tree hole alternated between bright and dark, showing the rotation of day and night.

Fang Hao’s perception of the outside world also gradually became clearer as his strength recovered bit by bit.

He could hear the roars of Demon Beasts further away, the whimper of wind through the treetops, and the rustling crawling sounds of nocturnal creatures.

Once, he even felt the aura of a powerful Demon Beast, at least at the Golden Core Stage, passing not far from the tree hole, which scared him so much that he immediately held his breath and restrained his aura to the extreme, like a real stone.

Fortunately, the Demon Beast did not seem to notice this inconspicuous tree hole and left after patrolling for a while.

This made him more aware of the danger of this place.

The Black Dragon Mountain Range lived up to its reputation.

He also began to try looking inward to check his condition.

Inside his Dantian, the originally full lake of Spiritual Qi had long since dried up, leaving only a small pool of turbid Spiritual liquid in the center, which contained wisps of Chaos Qi and was self-generating and growing extremely slowly.

His Meridians were damaged in many places, like a dry, cracked riverbed; when the Chaos Qi flowed through, it brought waves of stinging pain, but also brought tiny repairs.

Although his Sea of Consciousness was still dim and turbulent, the wisp of Chaos Qi in the center had grown a little, like a needle to calm the sea, giving his chaotic Sea of Consciousness a tiny, stable core.

The battle heaven axe lay quietly beside him, its luster restrained, but Fang Hao could feel a faint connection between it and the weak chaotic Spiritual liquid in his Dantian, which seemed to be slowly absorbing the Chaos Qi and undergoing some indescribable self-nourishment.

As for Old Jin... Fang Hao moved his thoughts slightly, trying to sense the storage ring.

Fortunately, the connection was still there.

He could feel Old Jin lying quietly in the depths of the storage ring, but its spiritual light was dim.

Apparently, the few times it had clashed head-on with the Sun Family Old Ancestor had caused it significant damage, and its spiritual core needed a longer time to nourish and recover.

He shouldn’t count on it for a short time.

"Medicinal Pill, there are two yin yang harmony pills left.

There are some Spirit Stones left, but directly absorbing Spirit Stones is too much of a burden on the current Meridians, and there are too many Impurities, so it’s not as safe as slowly absorbing Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi and filtering it with the Chaos Derivation Art, even if it is slow." Fang Hao took stock of his belongings and gave a wry smile.

He was truly at the end of his rope this time.

However, being able to survive was the greatest luck.

Just like this, in this hidden tree hole, he began a long and painful recovery.

When he was hungry, he absorbed a little Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi to maintain his vitality (at his Realm, short-term fasting was no problem); when he was thirsty, he carefully collected the dew that occasionally dripped through the cracks in the tree hole; his injuries and Spiritual Qi improved extremely slowly, day after day, through breathing, meditation, and guiding the Chaos Qi.

He didn’t know how much time had passed outside, didn’t know if the Sun Family was still hunting him, and didn’t know what exactly was in the depths of this Black Dragon Mountain Range.

He only knew that he had to recover, had to become stronger, to survive, and to face all the unknowns.