The Paladin in the Abyss

fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com Cultivators, upon breaking through to the Golden Core Stage, form a Golden Core in their bodies. Subsequently, their cultivation shifts from absorbing external spiritual energy to refining the Spiritual Power of their own Golden Core. The spiritual power generated from within themselves is essentially no different from the spiritual energy between heaven and earth, and cultivators can effortlessly achieve feats such as flying through the skies or commanding the wind and rain.

Lancelot was not yet a Golden Core Cultivator, but the Cauldron Immortal Technique, created by the unfathomably skilled Spell Han Tianzun himself, contained aspects that, although appeared minor, could effortlessly resolve difficulties that have doomed countless cultivators. At this moment, merely by flying through the sky in the form of a bird, Lancelot experienced a glimpse of the enlightenment normally reserved for Golden Core Cultivators in their understanding of nature’s spiritual energy.

Almost unconsciously, he retracted his black wings and surrendered his body to the natural winds between heaven and earth. A mysterious scene unfolded; without flapping his wings, he still remained with the rapidly flying flock of ravens, moving as effortlessly as a fish swims through water.

This state did not last for long. By the time Lancelot realized what had happened, it had already ended.

Unlike his first Qi Gathering experience, this enlightenment did not result in a noticeable increase in his cultivation level. However, Lancelot’s heart was filled with wild joy. With this slight enlightenment of a Golden Core Cultivator, his current state was akin to a cultivator who had fallen in realm for some reason and would find it much easier to attempt the Golden Core breakthrough again.

Only then did he take the time to appreciate the scenery beneath his feet. The flock of ravens flew more than a mile high, overlooking a forest shrouded in shadows below, with a desolate, yellow-brown mountain range in the distance. Further away lay a wall of fog stretching into the sky, marking the boundary of The Domain of Horror. Unless the ruler of the Demon’s Domain allowed it (or was slain), nothing could cross that mist, not even deities were capable of doing so.

In their raven forms, their mere normal flight speed was comparable to Nightmares at full sprint, and because they were flying in a straight line in the sky, there were no sudden incidents to slow them down. Roughly after an hour, they had already arrived above the desolate mountain range. The leading raven, whose claw wore a ring, slowed down, searching its memory for the place.

This area was very close to the edge of the Demon’s Domain. The mountain range and sky several miles away were submerged in the boundless Wall of Mist, while the mountains below were covered in rugged rocks and devoid of any vegetation, showing no signs of life. If there were any secrets to be hidden, this would indeed be an apt location.