Cultivation Nerd: Chapter 376

Chapter 376 - Alice and The Wonderland

After nearly a full day of relentless movement, slogging through marshes and pushing onward despite the surprisingly persistent rain, mud had worked its way into every fold of our clothes. 

Well, more on their clothes, since I used thin jade barriers to wrap around mine like coverings.

By the time we finally stopped, we stood before a massive hollow tree, long dead and bone-dry, its thick trunk scarred by deep, irregular bite marks that hinted something enormous had gnawed at it long ago.

As we drew closer, a door-like opening revealed itself along the tree’s side, low enough that we had to crouch to slip inside. The moment we crossed the threshold, the stench hit us: of wet wood, damp rot, and mold blended into a suffocating odor. A narrow tunnel sloped downward before opening into a concealed underground chamber. At its center burned an illusory fire, its flickering light casting warm, shifting shadows across the shoddy-looking walls that might cave in at any time. 

This was our temporary base, one I had carefully prepared and stabilized with multiple arrays. The idea for its location hadn’t come from nowhere; I’d taken a bit of inspiration from Alice in Wonderland.

I sat down on one of the flat logs we used as chairs and opened a map. A warmth array spread through the chamber, drying the soaked ground and thawing the thin roots that protruded from the earth like pale grass.

Jiang Yeming frowned as she stared into the illusory fire, lost in thought. Something had clearly been bothering her ever since we left the battlefield. Tingfeng, on the other hand, looked relaxed, idly poking at the edge of the warmth array barrier with his fingers.

The map showed multiple retreat options. One was a river route, where we could take a boat and let the current carry us downstream. But part of that path was hemmed in by ravines overlooking the water, a perfect location for an ambush.

Even though I considered myself reasonably competent when fighting those at my stage, this wasn’t something I could afford to treat lightly.

Another route was the most straightforward one, but it ran directly through the front lines. That meant a high chance of encountering Song San, who was currently in charge there. I had no idea what that man was plotting, or what kind of scheme he might cook up if he saw me.

The last thing I wanted was some sort of delayed poison planted in my body, something subtle enough to be triggered days later. Song San was skilled enough to pull that off with nothing more than a casual touch on the shoulder.

I analyzed each retreat route carefully, weighing the pros and cons in my head. Hidden cave tunnels, forest trails, and narrow passes. This battlefield had been thoroughly scouted and mapped long before we ever arrived, by commanders who had far too much experience with this kind of thing.

Sighing, I picked up a charcoal-tipped brush and marked the possible retreat paths on the map.

Then I stood up, walked over to the distracted Jiang Yeming, and nudged her lightly.

Her eyes widened for a split second as she looked up at me, guilt still lingering unmistakably in her gaze. Whatever was weighing on her, she seemed genuinely sorry about me, specifically.

This was starting to get redundant fast.

“Which route do you think we should take?” I asked her. “In my opinion, the ravine is the best option, since Song San used weak-looking disciples there to lure out the Titanic Blade Sect’s ambush teams. That means we can exploit the same logic, and they’re unlikely to attack us, thinking we’re another trap Song San set up.”

“Are we really retreating that far?” Jiang Yeming frowned. “I thought this was just temporary. That we’d pull back a little, recuperate, and then head out again.”

“You’ve both gained enough combat experience for now, and Tingfeng needs time to set the foundation for his next major breakthrough,” I told her.

“What about the war front?” she asked.

Since when did she care so much about the frontlines?

“As your teacher, it’s my responsibility to guide you, not slow down your cultivation just so you can waste time in a pointless war,” I said.

Even if Jiang Yeming and Tingfeng were likely to catch up to me in a few years, perhaps even surpass me in that time, it didn’t mean I would ever compromise their growth. Their well-being was my responsibility.

“Anyway,” I added, “which route do you think we should take?”

Jiang Yeming stared at the map in her hands for a long moment. Her gaze wandered, unfocused, before she rolled it up and handed it back to me.

“The route closest to the Misty Mountains is safest from the Titanic Blade Sect,” she said. “However, there could be other dangers there.”

Strange things had been happening around the Titanic Blade Sect, like their leader dying out of nowhere. That alone made it difficult to predict how they would respond to anything, especially in security matters.

Whether their sect leader’s death was the result of a conspiracy or a genuine accident was far beyond my pay grade. Still, the news had surprised me.

“It’s hard to guess their response,” I said, “and no one even knows where the Titanic Blade Sect Leader died. But if it wasn’t a conspiracy, and he really was killed by a Nascent Soul monstrous beast, then there are only a few places such a creature could reside.”

“Like the Misty Mountains,” I continued.

“Which is why they’re unlikely to station troops there,” Jiang Yeming said, following my line of thought. “If their leader died in that exact place, they wouldn’t want to aggravate whatever beast is resting there.”

Why was she so eager for me to head toward the Misty Mountains? Was this connected to her future in some way?

“There’s also the possibility that someone deliberately led the Titanic Blade Sect Leader there,” she added, glancing at me suspiciously, “because they knew a Nascent Soul beast might be present. And that means…”

Her look lingered, as if the implication were obvious.

From my perspective, it almost felt like Jiang Yeming suspected I had something to do with the Titanic Blade Sect Leader’s death.

She couldn’t be that foolish, could she? That would mean she was associating the current me with some future version of myself, one with the resources and knowledge to orchestrate something like that.

“Either way, I think we should take the route closest to the outer edge of the Misty Mountains,” she continued. “Also, as your disciple, I don’t want to hide things from you or hold my words back. But… weren’t you connected to the death of the Titanic Blade Sect Leader?”

With her confirming my suspicion so bluntly, I stared at Jiang Yeming and held her gaze.

Her words were enough to make even Tingfeng turn around and pay attention. He tilted his head, clearly confused, before coming over to sit beside me.

For a fleeting moment, I wanted to call her stupid for making such a wild leap. But that would have been naive. It was never wise to underestimate someone’s line of thinking, especially not someone like her.

“What makes you think that?” I asked calmly.

Part of me genuinely wanted to know what chain of thoughts had led her to such a ridiculous conclusion.

“You went missing for almost two months around the time their Sect Leader died,” she explained. “So I assumed you might be connected somehow. I’m not saying you were directly involved, but maybe through some scheme behind the scenes.”

I sincerely hoped she was holding back part of her reasoning. Otherwise, she was severely overestimating my capabilities.

Just because I had been in a coma and told no one outside a small, trusted circle, she had spun that into something like this.

Honestly… I was more impressed by whatever future version of me had left her with the impression that I could pull off something like that.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I wasn’t involved with that mess in any way.”

Going into detail about what I had been doing would only complicate things, so I left it at that.

Jiang Yeming nodded, accepting my answer at face value. Still, I could tell she suspected I was hiding something, which I was. Just not the thing she thought.

After that, we rested for a full day, each of us taking turns keeping watch.

…

By the next morning, the weather had shifted entirely. Warm sunlight bathed the land beneath a clear sky, and the mingled scents of grass, trees, and blossoming flowers drifted on the breeze. For the first time in a while, it truly felt like spring had come into its own.

Tingfeng, Jiang Yeming, and I packed up and prepared to move out. Still, there were a few last-minute matters to take care of.

The Qi inside my body churned like a vortex. A strange symbol written in elegant, precise calligraphy formed in my palm. It resembled an inverted Â, encircled by lines of unfamiliar script.

Qi gathered in my hand, and the symbol began duplicating itself, spilling outward like a fountain.

The letters crawled across the surrounding trees like oversized insects, settling into the shadows of branches and clinging to leaves. Others sank into the earth, slipping beneath rocks, bushes, tall stalks, and even individual blades of grass.

“What kind of array are you casting?” Tingfeng asked. That alone was unusual, as he was rarely interested in arrays. “The whole place feels creepier now. A chill just ran down my spine for some reason.”

Those instincts of his were impressive, as always.

“It’s a bit complicated. I’ll explain it in more detail once we return to the sect,” I said. “For now, just know that it will make sure no one can follow our tracks.”

As the last traces of Qi settled, the writing in my palm dulled, its glow fading until it vanished entirely.

“Alright,” I said, dusting off my hands. “With that done, we can continue our journey. This will be the last battle we take part in for a while. I need to return to the sect to write down what I’ve learned, and there’s also…”

My gaze flicked to Tingfeng. He felt close to a breakthrough. Even if he never said it aloud, I could sense it. A battlefield where anything could happen was no place to push through a major realm bottleneck.

And honestly, the battlefield itself had been disappointing.

There were no exotic elements, nothing truly unexpected. The Azure Frost Sect relied on water, ice, and wind. At the same time, the Titanic Blade Sect favored metal, sword, and the occasional cutting element that added a bit of interest. Beyond that, everything was predictable.

Nothing special.

Which made the whole affair rather boring.

I found no joy in killing others, and if a battle didn’t offer something to learn from, then it was meaningless to me. Especially now, when I had already taken a step back from sect affairs altogether.

…

We traveled until the road itself seemed to grow tired of us. Forests thinned into rolling grasslands, and the land dipped and rose. Dew clung to the edges of leaves even past midday, glittering whenever the sun broke through drifting clouds as we moved without rest. Cold streams cut silver lines through the earth, carrying the scent of stone and moss, and sometimes the coppery tang of blood from battles fought somewhere upriver.

It sometimes felt like crossing from one chapter of the world into another. The air subtly changed, sometimes thinner, sometimes sharper, occasionally carrying a quiet pressure that settled against the skin like unseen weight.

Animals revealed themselves only in fleeting moments. White-tailed deer watched us from the edge of the plains before vanishing soundlessly into tall grass. Ash-gray mountain foxes darted between rocks, their eyes a little too intelligent, close to crossing the threshold into monstrous beasts. Overhead, broad-winged birds circled on rising currents, their shadows sliding slowly across the ground.

Once, a flying monstrous beast roared overhead, its colossal form rivaling a commercial plane as it skimmed dangerously close to the ground. The air stirred violently in its trail, its shadow swallowing everything beneath it before it disappeared into the distance.

Another time, we passed a herd of shaggy, horned beasts grazing near a riverbank, their low calls vibrating faintly through the soles of my boots. None attacked, yet none truly ignored us either.

It felt as though the land itself was aware of our passage.

Which was… unsettling.

And always, in the distance, the Misty Mountains loomed.

I hadn’t chosen the exact route Jiang Yeming suggested, but another that kept the mountain range within our enhanced sight.

Their peaks rose like broken blades piercing the sky, half-swallowed by rolling veils of pale mist. Clouds clung to them unnaturally, as though reluctant to let go. Even from afar, they carried a strange, oppressive weight.

It was a deeply uncomfortable feeling.

Sunlight never fully touched those heights; it fractured and dimmed, leaving the range wrapped in a muted, colorless glow. The longer I looked, the less the mountains resembled stone, and the more they felt like something watching. Waiting patiently.

What the fuck was this creepy feeling?

Then the sensation struck.

Not sharp. Not hostile. But old and calculating.

Like a gaze brushing against my thoughts with a cold fingertip.

It came from the direction of the Misty Mountains, and the moment I became aware of it, my heart tightened.

“C’mon. We need to go,” I said.

I didn’t explain. I simply urged the others forward, my voice firmer, and my pace quickening. Whatever watched us from those distant peaks had noticed our existence, and I had no intention of letting it decide when we would meet.

...

We turned our backs on the Misty Mountains and followed our retreat route, heading deeper in the opposite direction through the Poisoned Marshes.

This stretch of land lay close to where the Four-Way Immortal’s tomb had once stood, and where the crow beast had torn into our expedition group. The memory lingered longer than I expected. It felt like an eternity ago, even though barely five years had passed.

We moved swiftly through the marsh, our feet never lingering long enough to sink into the wet ground or shallow pools. Stalks jutting from the murky water served as narrow footholds, each step precise. What should have been hazardous terrain instead became a controlled exercise, sharpening balance, timing, and coordination.

Could we have flown? Yes, but doing so would have been reckless. Taking to the air would have drawn the attention of any flying beast in the region, and once that happened, it wouldn’t take long for nearby troops to realize something was wrong.

We ran at full speed, bodies moving in practiced rhythm, until the white mist ahead thickened unnaturally. A sense of wrongness crept in. I slowed our pace, then brought us to a complete stop, boots sinking slightly into the soft ground.

I stared ahead, disbelief tightening in my chest.

How was this possible? We had been running in the opposite direction.

So how the hell had we ended up at the foot of the Misty Mountain Range?!