The Myriad Mist Mountain was a place where legends went to die.
The air was so thick with spiritual energy that it usually liquefied into jade-colored rain, and the gravity alone could crush a Golden Core cultivator into a pancake. At the very peak of this death trap sat a small, drafty wooden shack.
Li Feng stood in front of the shack, staring intensely at the air in front of his face. To anyone else, he was just staring at a butterfly. To Li Feng, he was looking at a translucent grey box that had been haunting him for three years.
[System Initialization: 99.9%... Warning: Connection to the Great Dao is unstable. Please wait.]
"Wait? I've been waiting for a thousand days, you piece of junk!" Li Feng barked, swatting at the box as if he could hit it. His hand passed right through the interface.
"Three years of manual labor. Three years of eating wild vegetables and drinking well water. If you aren't going to give me a 'Heaven-Defying Body,' at least give me a working stove!"
He let out a long, frustrated breath. When he first transmigrated into this world of cultivators and demons, he thought he was the main character. He expected to fly on swords and have a harem of fairy goddesses.
Instead, the System glitched out on day one, leaving him stranded on this mountain with nothing but a rusty hoe and a pack of "Cabbage Seeds" the System claimed were a starter gift.
"Fine. Be that way," Li Feng grumbled. "Who needs immortality anyway? I'll just die of old age in a house that smells like damp wood. Great plan."
He picked up a chipped wooden bucket and headed toward the well.
As he walked, his foot caught on a bright, glowing purple flower. It looked like it was made of pure amethyst and smelled like a dream. Li Feng didn't even look down. He just stomped on it, crushing the Seven-Color Soul-Reaping Flower—a plant so rare it only bloomed once every five centuries—into the dirt.
"Stupid weeds," he muttered. "They grow faster than the actual food. If I don't clear the garden today, the cabbages will be choked out by tomorrow."
He reached the well, which was made of grey stone. He dropped the bucket down and pulled it up, filled with crystal-clear water. To Li Feng, it was just cold water. He didn't see the tiny golden dragons of light swirling in the liquid, nor did he feel the air around the bucket humming with enough life-force to resurrect a dead army.
He took a long, deep gulp directly from the bucket.
"Tastes like iron," he complained, wiping his mouth. "I really need to find a way to filter this stuff. Probably full of minerals."
Suddenly, a faint thud sounded from the mountain path.
Li Feng paused. He hadn't seen a human soul in three years. The mountain was too steep for normal people, and the local legends said it was haunted by a "Ancient Demon."
He squinted through the mist. A few yards down the path, an old man was facedown in the dirt. He was wearing purple silk robes that looked expensive, though they were currently shredded and soaked in blood.
"Oh, great," Li Feng sighed, putting the bucket down. "Just what I needed. A tourist who ignored the 'No Trespassing' signs and fell off a cliff. If he dies here, the paperwork is going to be a nightmare."
He started walking toward the man, his simple cloth shoes clicking against the rocks.
He didn't know that the "rocks" he was stepping on were actually Spirit Stones of the highest grade. He also didn't know that every step he took was sending out shockwaves of pure Divine Pressure that were currently causing every bird and beast within fifty miles to flee in terror.
As he reached the old man, Li Feng leaned over and poked him with his toe.
"Hey, old timer. You still alive? Or do I need to start digging a hole?"
The old man, who happened to be the Great Sect Leader of the Cloud-Mist Sect, groaned. He slowly turned his head, his eyes bloodshot and filled with despair. He had been chased up the mountain by a rival clan, hoping to find a quick death in the "Forbidden Zone" rather than being captured.
But when he looked up, he didn't see a demon.
He saw a young man standing in a halo of blinding golden light. To the Sect Leader's eyes, Li Feng wasn't a farmer. He was a pillar of pure Law, a being so ancient and powerful that the very space around him was warping and cracking under his weight.
"Senior..." the old man wheezed, his voice trembling. "Save... save me..."
Li Feng rolled his eyes. "Senior? I'm twenty-four, man. How much blood did you lose?"
He grabbed the Sect Leader by the back of his expensive robes and began dragging him toward the hut.
"Come on. Let's get you inside. I've got some 'medicinal' tea I made from those purple weeds. It tastes like garbage, but it usually stops the bleeding."
The Sect Leader's heart nearly stopped. Medicinal tea... made from the Seven-Color Soul-Reaping Flower?He looked at the small, humble hut ahead. To him, it wasn't a shack. It was a Divine Temple, glowing with the fury of a thousand suns. He realized then that the legends weren't about a demon.
They were about a God.