[POV: Qingxue]
In the pavilion...
Early morning sunlight filtered through the latticed windows as Qingxue finished her meditation session. She opened her eyes and glanced toward the building where Alexei was still sleeping.
After everything that had happened over the past months, it was nice to see him resting for once.
The kid worked too hard. Not that she would ever tell him that directly.
She stood, stretched, and began her morning routine. Her cultivation had stabilized at early Dharma Aspect stage, which was honestly faster progress than she had any right to expect. Under normal circumstances, breaking through from Nascent Soul to Dharma Aspect took years just to stabilize. She had done it in months, thanks entirely to the absurd spiritual energy density Alexei had created inside the mountain.
With the multiplier from the top-grade spirit stone lamps, she was confident she could reach Tribulation Transcendence within sixty years.
Faster, if she went into full seclusion and focused purely on cultivation.
She glanced back at the building again.
Her master had once told her something that stuck: "Cultivating the heart is more important than cultivating techniques."
To most cultivators, it was nothing more than empty philosophy. To her, it had become something tangible. From the moment she met Alexei, the way she understood her path began to change.
Without realizing it, he became part of her cultivation. Not in any strange way, his survival mattered, and so did the sect's.
That was what her heart had settled on. Instead of chasing power for its own sake, she found herself wanting to protect the things that truly meant something.
She shook her head, pushing the thought aside, and headed toward the alchemy room to check on the spirit fruit harvest.
----------
[POV: Alexei]
Alexei groggily sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and trying to remember what day it was.
He looked down at himself. He was still wearing the loose white pajamas he had fallen asleep in. His hair was a mess. He probably looked like garbage.
"New day. New survival grind."
Except... what was he supposed to grind, exactly?
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing in particular, trying to organize his thoughts.
Over the past five months, he had accomplished a frankly ridiculous amount of work.
He had opened and sorted every spatial storage item taken from the Ji Clan cultivators. Every magical artifact and treasure had been broken down into enchantment books. Every cultivation jade slip had been absorbed.
The underground spiritual farmland was complete. More than 300 hundred Flameheart Fruit trees had been planted and were already growing. The terraced cliff walls were lined with high-grade medicinal herbs. The entire facility was sealed and climate-controlled, producing resources at a rate that would make even major sects jealous.
The mountain's interior walls were completely lined with smooth stone bricks. He had spent three full months gathering cobblestone during his downtime, smelting it into smooth stone, and placing each block carefully to make sure there were no weak points.
His survival base had a fully automated item sorting and storage system now. Over thirty different item types could be automatically categorized and stored. Each type had sixteen large chests allocated to it, which meant 864 stacks per item before the system even started to strain.
The mob farm was running at peak efficiency, generating experience and drops 24/7.
His diamond armor was fully enchanted. His tools were maxed out.
He had more resources than he knew what to do with.
So... what now?
"Hm..." he muttered, standing up and stretching. "If this were a normal Minecraft playthrough, I'd already be done with the Overworld. Next would be the Nether, then the eyes of ender, and finally the Ender Dragon."
Except there was a problem.
This world didn't have naturally occurring End portals. Which meant he couldn't just find a stronghold and activate it.
He would have to craft the portal frames himself. And to do that, he needed Nether stars. And to get Nether stars, he needed to summon and kill the Wither.
He took out his Spirit Essence Gourd and drank the spiritual liquid it had condensed overnight. It reduced the time he needed to spend meditating. All that remained was to circulate and absorb the energy within his body, which he could easily do while handling other tasks.
He stored the gourd back in his inventory and began to get dressed.
The plan was simple: head to the Nether, find a bastion remnant, locate a Netherite Upgrade Template in one of the chests, and upgrade his diamond gear to netherite.
While he was at it, he would search for a Nether fortress and start farming Wither Skeleton skulls.
Whichever he found first would determine the order of operations. If he found the upgrade template first, he would upgrade his gear and then hunt Wither Skeletons. If he found Wither Skeletons first, he would farm skulls, fight the Wither, and upgrade his gear afterward.
"Not like the Ender Dragon is that hard anyway. I don't even need netherite. Just beds and a bit of stubbornness."
He paused, considering that statement.
"Actually, beds and spite. Spite is a much better motivator..."
He finished getting dressed, left the bedroom, and stopped by the ender pearl stasis chamber outside. He tossed an ender pearl into it to make sure he could get back easily if things went bad in the Nether.
Then he headed back into his building, stepped through the painting portal, and made his way down into the survival base.
The Nether portal now stood inside his base. He had moved it months ago for better security and easier access. When he relocated the Overworld side, the Nether-side coordinates had shifted as well, so he rebuilt the small safe room there to match.
Everything was in place.
It was time to hunt some undead and raid a few ancient piglin ruins.
He stepped through the portal. Purple particles swirled around him as reality twisted, then snapped back into place, depositing him in the Nether's hellish landscape.
"Let's do this."
----------
[POV: Ghost Sect]
The past six months had been, to put it mildly, a disaster.
The righteous sects had laid siege to the Ghost Sect's territory and showed no signs of letting up. What had started as a defensive conflict had turned into a war of attrition that the Ghost Sect was steadily losing.
If they could fully control the Hundred Ghost Banner, this wouldn't even be a problem. But they couldn't. The banner was powerful, yet unstable and incomplete, and their enemies knew it.
Worse, after half a year of constant skirmishes, the righteous cultivators had figured out the mechanics of the Grey Fiend Art. They had learned its weaknesses, its limitations, and how to counter it.
Now, the Ghost Sect couldn't even leave the Shadowlands without risking total annihilation.
The moment they stepped outside the protective aura of the Shadowlands, their grey mist forms became unstable. Once that happened, the righteous cultivators would bombard them without pause, preventing them from reforming until the soul within the shade was completely destroyed.
"This is unacceptable."
Inside the Ghost Sect's council hall, the atmosphere was tense. Grim faces stared at maps and strategic reports, searching for any possible angle and leverage they could exploit.
The sect master sat at the head of the table. His gaze kept drifting to the red-haired middle-aged man seated near the back of the room.
Six months ago, when the sect had been on the verge of collapse under the righteous sects' assault, he had sent an urgent message: RETURN IMMEDIATELY. SECT IN TURMOIL
The meaning had been obvious: bring back the half-demon's soul. Use it to complete the Hundred Ghost Banner and turn the tide of the war.
And what had this idiot done?
He had come back empty-handed.
By the time they tried to send someone else, it was already too late. The siege had tightened, and their mortal-world operations had been wiped out. More than 40% of the sect's cultivators had lost their physical bodies and now existed only as grey mist, relying on the Shadowlands to survive.
Even a peak Nascent Soul elder had fallen.
If not for the home-field advantage of the Shadowlands, the righteous sects would have already crushed them.
They were trapped, unable to escape and unable to fight back effectively.
The sect master rubbed his temples, trying to ease the headache building behind his eyes.
"How many Nascent Soul cultivators can we pull from the front lines?"
A grey-haired elder consulted a jade slip before answering. "Excluding those who cannot leave the Shadowlands... twenty-three."
"Twenty-three."
The sect master leaned back in his chair, considering the number.
It wasn't much, but it might be enough.
If they focused their forces on a single point, they could break through the encirclement, open a gap in the defensive lines, and get someone out.
And once they were outside...
"I will personally lead the operation," the sect master said, standing abruptly.
The room went silent.
"Sect Master, you cannot..."
"I can, and I will." His voice was cold, final. "We know the half-demon has regained some of her strength. We don't know how much. To ensure success, I will take the Hundred Ghost Banner and handle this myself."
He looked around the table.
"We've been pushed to the edge. It ends now. Once I capture that half-demon's soul and refine it into the banner, we'll have nearly a hundred Nascent Soul-stage spirits, along with three early Dharma Aspect evil ghosts. With that kind of power, this siege won't last."
He placed both hands on the table.
"And when we do, every sect that took advantage of our weakness will learn what consequences look like. That will be the day their reckoning comes."
----------
Alexei's plan to upgrade his diamond gear went surprisingly well.
Over the course of a week and a half in the Nether, he managed to find a hoglin stable and a housing unit.
Thanks to his flying sword, looting the chests inside was almost trivial. A bit of careful maneuvering to avoid the piglins, some strategic block placement, and he was in and out with minimal fuss.
The haul included two snout armor trim templates and one netherite upgrade template.
More importantly, exploring on his flying sword gave him a clearer understanding of how the Nether worked in this world. He had already suspected from his earlier expeditions that the area had expanded, but now he was certain.
The overall area had expanded massively. He couldn't get an exact measurement without spending months mapping it out, which sounded like the opposite of fun. But here was the weird part: the bastion remnants hadn't expanded proportionally.
The hoglin stable he had found earlier was enormous, covering several kilometers in every direction. Just exploring the damn thing had taken two full days of navigation through dark, monster-filled corridors.
The tower, however, was only about twice the size of the one in the game.
It made no sense. The expansion ratio was completely inconsistent, like someone had applied the scaling randomly and called it a day.
Still, he found the upgrade template in the tower, so he wasn't complaining too much.
The only disappointment was that he hadn't found the exclusive music disc, Pigstep, which only had about a 5.6% spawn chance in bastion chests.
Normally, if you searched an entire bastion thoroughly, you would get at least one. The odds were decent as long as your luck wasn't complete garbage.
Unfortunately, his luck had been complete shit.
Back on Earth, when that disc was first added to Minecraft, he had listened to it in creative mode. The rhythm was intense, the melody wild. It was easily in his top three favorite discs.
He had spent an entire afternoon searching for it in survival mode back then before giving up.
"Maybe I should take some time to collect all the music discs that can be obtained. It would be nice to have something to listen to besides the ambient forest noises and Qingxue's occasional lectures."
---
Inside the mountain survival base...
Alexei stood in the storage area, holding a stack of glass blocks and frowning at them.
"It cannot be broken down?"
He had just tried using Deconstruction on the glass, expecting it to revert to sand. Instead, the system had flatly refused.
Apparently, glass followed the same logic as cobblestone not reverting to stone, planks not reverting to logs, and iron ingots not reverting to raw iron ore.
Once processed, certain materials were locked into their new form. He tossed the glass back into the chest with more force than necessary.
It looked like he was stuck crafting beds the old-fashioned way, using wood and wool at a crafting table.
Not that it mattered. Beds were easy to make, and he had more than enough materials.
The plan was simple: use beds as explosives in the Nether. When you tried to sleep in a bed there, it exploded with a blast radius even larger than TNT. The downside was that beds couldn't be stacked and didn't trigger chain reactions like TNT, but in terms of efficiency, they were way easier than manual mining.
And the crafting materials were dirt cheap.
Over the past few months, just from shearing sheep at the shepherd trading post every day, he had accumulated enough wool to fill three double chests. There was no way he would use it all anytime soon.
He went down to the storage area beneath the base and grabbed six stacks of wool and two stacks of logs, enough to craft 128 beds.
Unless something went wrong, that should be more than enough for a productive mining session.
He stepped through the Nether portal, the familiar nausea of dimensional travel washing over him as the world shifted from stone and torchlight to netherrack and lava.
Now, where to start digging?
Staying close to the portal was the smart move. There was no point in wandering too far and getting lost in the massive, distorted Nether landscape.
He started with a staircase pattern, digging down at an angle to avoid falling into random lava lakes. Once he hit around ten to fifteen meters underground, he chugged a fire resistance potion and switched tactics.
It was time for targeted demolition.
The explosions barely affected him. With Bedrock Edition mechanics, a shield and decent armor were enough. He could place a bed right in front of himself, take the blast, and keep going. Between his fall protection enchantments and the natural regeneration from his gear, he could almost ignore the damage entirely.
The most annoying part was having to stop every so often to dump netherrack, set down a crafting table, and make more beds.
An entire afternoon passed in a blur.
He made two trips back to the survival base to restock on materials. By the time his third sumeru ring of supplies was depleted, he had collected exactly 65 ancient debris.
He stared down into the mine shaft he had created. The thing was so deep now that he couldn't even see the bottom from the top.
At least he had identified where ancient debris spawned. It was buried deep, way deeper than he had initially expected, but the spawn mechanics seemed consistent with the game.
After smelting, the 65 debris would combine with gold ingots to produce 16 netherite ingots.
Five ingots would go toward upgrading his tool set: sword, pickaxe, axe, hoe, and shovel.
Four more would upgrade his armor: helmet, chestplate, leggings, and boots.
Another four would be needed to apply the snout armor trims to the full set.
That left three netherite ingots as surplus.
He had been thinking about handing those over to Duan to see if he could forge some kind of magical artifact with special effects. The guy was surprisingly skilled, and Alexei had only recently realized how valuable that skillset was.
Give him the right materials, and Duan could forge a low-grade Yellow-tier artifact in two days. A Profound-tier weapon took less than half a month.
The downside was specialization. Duan only knew how to make melee weapons. He could technically craft magical treasures too, but even the lowest Yellow-tier ones required months of work and a massive amount of materials.
On the plus side, he could customize specific effects, which opened up interesting possibilities.
All the black iron Alexei had smelted over the past months had been broken down into Black Iron Fragments and delivered to Duan's workshop.
The arrangement was simple. Duan and Jianqiang would use a few fragments to practice forging whenever they had free time. Once they were done, Alexei would break the practice pieces back down into fragments and return them.
Nothing was lost in the process. Instead, they gained enchantment books with spiritual circuits embedded in them.
It was basically free loot.
Lately, every time Alexei showed up with refined materials, Duan's hands would shake. He had probably never seen black iron so pure that it required no additional refinement. He was probably thrilled just to work with the stuff.
The first time he saw the fragments, he had stared at them for a full minute before declaring that anything forged from such materials would be at least Yellow-tier quality, bare minimum.
Alexei had just nodded along and handed over more materials.
---
Back in the survival base, he placed all the ancient debris into the furnace system's input chest.
From there, hopper minecarts would automatically distribute them to individual furnaces for smelting. Every ten minutes, enough materials for two netherite ingots would finish processing.
The whole batch would take just over an hour to complete.
With time to kill, he decided to duplicate the templates he would need for the armor upgrades at the smithing table.
Duplication could be done directly at the crafting table.
Cloning a snout armor trim required 1 blackstone, 7 diamonds, and 1 template.
Duplicating a netherite upgrade template followed the same process, except blackstone was replaced with netherrack.
Since he had plenty of time and materials, he made several extra copies. He crafted an entire stack of the snout trims, just to have spares for future projects.
---
When he finally left the survival base, his diamond armor had been completely replaced.
The new set was a deep brown-black, its textured surface giving it a far more intimidating presence than diamond armor ever had. Gone were the smooth, reflective plates that had made him look like a cheap imitation of a knight.
Netherite armor had its own distinct texture. With the snout trims added, the look felt complete. Just looking at it gave off a sense of raw lethality.
Even his footsteps had a satisfying weight to them. He glanced at the clock in the item frame. It was around six or seven in the evening, so it should still be bright outside.
Heading back into the Nether to search for a fortress didn't sound appealing right now. He had been underground for hours, and a change of pace sounded much better.
He walked over to a nearby chest and took out a dozen black iron fragments, along with three extra netherite ingots, then stored them in his inventory.
It had been a while since he last visited Duan's courtyard to drop off materials. This was a good opportunity to deliver the fragments he had been accumulating, along with the netherite for experimentation.
He jogged over to the small courtyard, sheared the wool off the sheep to keep them cool in the evening heat, and then leaped onto his flying sword.
Wind rushed past as he soared into the sky.
Midway through the flight, he changed direction, angling toward the western mountain.
He had mentioned to the spirit monkeys a while back that they should consider following him. At the time, it had been a half-serious suggestion made during a moment of boredom.
But now that the underground facility was basically complete, it made sense to follow through.
If he was going to build what was essentially a cultivation paradise inside a mountain, it would look far more convincing with a few spirit beasts around. Every proper immortal's cave dwelling had them. It was practically a requirement.
The spirit monkey territory lay about fifteen kilometers from the sect, deep within the mountain forest. At the speed Alexei could manage on his flying sword, the trip took less than five minutes.
He had been there before, so the route was familiar. Trees blurred past as he flew toward the clearing where the monkeys usually gathered.
As he descended into a flat area surrounded by rocky outcrops, he spotted seven or eight monkeys perched on small boulders, eating fruit as they watched him approach.
He angled the sword into a steep dive, accelerating toward the ground. Just before impact, he pulled up sharply, bringing himself to an abrupt stop.
The sudden halt kicked up a powerful gust of wind that swept across the clearing, sending dust and loose debris flying in every direction. Several of the smaller monkeys squinted and clung to their perches, struggling to keep from being blown off.
"Hey, go get your leader."
One of the monkeys reacted first, tossing aside a half-eaten fruit and chattering excitedly. The others quickly joined in, hooting and waving their arms.
Then a black-furred monkey tilted its head back and let out a sharp cry.
The call echoed through the forest, carrying in every direction. Within seconds, answering cries came from all around, and branches rustled as the rest of the troop began converging on the clearing.
Birds burst from the canopy in startled flocks.
Alexei had seen this kind of behavior before. It was how the monkeys communicated over long distances.
He dismissed his flying sword, letting it vanish back into his inventory, then dropped down.
A fall of two or three meters was nothing to him with his current stats. Unfortunately, he had overlooked one small detail.
He was still wearing armor.
BOOM.
He hit the ground with a heavy crash.
The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing. Cracks spread out from where he landed, and the packed earth sank slightly beneath his feet.
Several monkeys perched on nearby boulders yelped and grabbed onto the stone as the ground shook.
Alexei scratched the back of his head.
---
High above the Aureate Summit Sect, the Ghost Sect Master hung motionless in the sky, his presence hidden beneath a layer of compressed spiritual energy. Below him, the forest stretched endlessly.
For the past three days, he had evaded several half-step Dharma Aspect elders, slipping through their detection again and again. Now, at last, he had reached his destination.
His gaze shifted toward the western mountain, where a flock of birds had suddenly burst from the canopy.
A faint frown crossed his face.
This wasn't a friendly visit. Once he captured the half-demon's soul and completed the Hundred Ghost Banner, everyone in this sect would become a liability. It would be far easier to silence them than risk leaving witnesses behind.
If anyone was to blame, it was them for taking her in.
Besides, everything the Ghost Sect had suffered recently could be traced back to this place. If that half-demon had died in the Silkspore Basin as she was supposed to, none of this would have happened.
He extended his divine sense downward, scanning the forest.
In a clearing near the base of the mountain, twenty or thirty monkeys had gathered around a figure in dark armor. The figure looked young, and the armor gave off a faint purple sheen in the late afternoon sun.
A cold smile formed on his lips.
"I'll start with you."
He raised a hand and formed a sword gesture with his fingers. Grey light gathered around them as he pointed toward the armored figure below.
A blade of compressed mist shot downward.
---
Below, in the clearing, the monkeys facing Alexei suddenly went rigid.
Their eyes widened in terror as they sensed the attack rushing toward the back of his head, carrying a killing intent so overwhelming it was almost suffocating.
The weaker ones collapsed immediately, pressed flat against the ground. Even those with some cultivation couldn't stop trembling.
A few of the monkeys closest to Alexei reacted on instinct and rushed forward.
The old monkey leaped into the air, throwing itself forward in a desperate attempt to intercept the attack.
But how could it possibly stop it? Even the strongest among them had only reached the Foundation Establishment realm, while the attacker was clearly far beyond that. The sheer intensity of the incoming qi made that obvious.
Despair filled the old monkey's eyes as the realization struck mid-leap.
It wouldn't make it in time.
Alexei suddenly sensed qi, but it was already too late. His head jerked slightly from the impact.
Then the world exploded.
A shockwave burst from the point of contact and tore outward in all directions like a detonating bomb. The old monkey, still in midair, was caught in it and flung backward as if struck by a cannonball. It spun through the air for over ten meters before crashing into a tree trunk.
The monkeys that had rushed him were blasted away just as easily. Their bodies were thrown back, limbs flailing as blood sprayed from their mouths when they hit the ground and rolled.
Even those farther away were knocked off their feet, sent tumbling across the clearing like ragdolls.
Alexei blinked.
"What the hell just happened?"
He turned instinctively, scanning the clearing for more threats. Instead, he saw experience orbs drifting down like green snow, drawn toward him as they sank into his body.
"What?"
He looked up, squinting against the sun.
High above, a body was falling, trailing wisps of grey mist that faded as it dropped toward the forest.
It crashed through the canopy and disappeared into the trees.
He struggled to process what had just happened.
Someone had attacked him. The Thorns III enchantment on his armor had reflected the damage, and whoever it was had died from their own attack being sent back at them with even greater force.
He turned back toward the clearing.
The monkeys were in rough shape. The ones who had rushed in to protect him lay scattered on the ground, their limbs broken as they coughed up blood. One of them didn't move at all.
The old monkey looked even worse. Its chest had caved in, broken ribs pressing through its fur. It was still breathing, but only barely.
He had flown out here on a whim to recruit the monkeys and hadn't packed for an emergency. Most of his inventory was filled with black iron fragments.
"Damn it! Stay here. I will be right back."
Alexei didn't wait for a response, not that the monkeys could give one. He summoned his flying sword and shot into the sky, accelerating toward the sect at full speed.
He had tried farming healing potions from witches in the mob farm before, using his flying sword to disarm them instead of killing them. It hadn't worked well. Even though the sword itself had no attack attribute, his presence still dealt damage. In the end, he only managed to get eight potions before giving up.
Eight potions would have to be enough.
As he rushed back toward his house, he spotted Qingxue and Yan flying in the opposite direction on their swords, clearly reacting to the disturbance.
"Yan! Western mountain clearing! The monkeys are badly injured!"
His voice faded as he shot past them.
Yan didn't hesitate. She immediately changed direction and sped toward the clearing.
Alexei landed in his courtyard, sprinted inside, and rushed into the survival base. He grabbed all eight healing potions from storage and shoved them into his inventory.
He was halfway out the door when he stopped.
Maybe eight wouldn't be enough. Not for injuries this severe.
He turned back, rushed to the brewing station, and began converting them into splash potions. It would take a few minutes, but with Yan there to stabilize the monkeys, he should have enough time.
By the time he took to the sky again, the potions in his inventory had all been converted into Splash Potion of Healing.
He pushed his flying sword to its limit, crossing the fifteen kilometers back to the clearing in record time.
---
The monkeys had gathered around their injured companions, chattering softly. Some tried to help, pressing leaves against wounds or shifting the injured into more comfortable positions.
Yan knelt beside the old monkey, her hands glowing faintly with spiritual energy as she guided qi into its body. Her expression was tense and focused.
"Two of them are in critical condition. I can keep them stable, but I cannot heal injuries this severe. If I had arrived sooner…"