Chapter 7 — Flames of Fortuity
Hao Tian's muscles ached with every movement, but he felt a renewed sense of purpose. The herbs he had gathered were tucked carefully into his satchel, each item cataloged and handled with meticulous care. The warmth of the 10,000 Flame Mountain still clung to his skin, and the subtle hum of the Nine Transformations Origin Flame seemed to thrum more steadily than before, as though acknowledging the progress he had made.
He needed a secluded spot. One where the heat of the mountain would not interfere, where he could concentrate on the task at hand: using the herbs to strengthen his body-refining cultivation. The deeper tunnels were labyrinthine, but experience had taught him to recognize the patterns of natural caverns—the small pockets of open space where the mountain's magma had once paused and cooled, leaving flat floors and stable walls.
After an hour of careful wandering, Hao Tian found such a place. A small chamber opened up, roughly ten meters across, its ceiling high enough to avoid the oppressive feeling of being crushed. Warmth seeped from the walls, but the air was breathable. Thin streams of water trickled through cracks in the rock, forming a shallow pool in one corner. The faint glow of a few embedded fire veins bathed the chamber in a gentle red-orange light.
He knelt, placing his satchel carefully in front of him. He examined the herbs again. The Verdant Emberleaf, Searing Root Fungus, and Ambervine Fruit each held the potential to enhance his body-refining cultivation. He had read carefully through the Nine Yang Pill Refinement Manual, learning the subtle techniques of fire Qi integration into the body. While these herbs were not pills themselves, their properties could be utilized to slowly stimulate the body's natural growth and energy refinement.
Hao Tian exhaled, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. "Let's see if you can actually do something for me," he murmured.
He started with the Verdant Emberleaf. Crushing the leaves into a fine paste with the flat of his pickaxe, he pressed the mixture into a small, improvised vessel fashioned from stone. He consumed it carefully, feeling the warmth of the herb move through his mouth, down his throat, and into his stomach. A subtle heat spread through his chest, crawling along the channels of his meridians, tracing faint, almost imperceptible lines where the Qi could flow.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then… a tingling sensation blossomed in his limbs. His muscles felt like they were awakening, stretching, flexing, growing denser. Bones shifted slightly, channels aligning with a precision that sent a shock of pain followed by relief. The body did not strengthen instantly—it never did—but he felt the slow, deliberate pulse of growth.
Next came the Searing Root Fungus. Chewing carefully, he tasted the deep, earthy bitterness of the mushroom, which seemed to fight against the heat of the mountain itself. Its warmth was sharper than the Emberleaf, crawling into his joints, easing lingering soreness, and forcing his body to adapt to the tension built from previous battles. He clenched his fists, feeling muscles swell slightly, Qi flowing with more ease through the meridians, his body slowly responding to the nourishment.
Finally, the Ambervine Fruit. Sweet, faintly smoky, almost intoxicating in its aroma, the fruit's warmth spread more subtly. It seeped into his core, lingering in the chest and abdomen, connecting every channel opened by the previous herbs. Hao Tian leaned back against the cavern wall, feeling the heat circulate fully.
The herbs' effects were cumulative. The Verdant Emberleaf boosted his foundation; the Searing Root Fungus strengthened the limbs and Qi flow; the Ambervine Fruit harmonized the internal channels. After several hours of careful meditation and observation, Hao Tian could sense it—the gradual surge of Qi throughout his body, subtle yet undeniable. He had reached fifth stage of body-refining cultivation. His body felt more resilient, his senses sharper, and even his reflexes seemed slightly faster.
He exhaled deeply, allowing a rare smile to cross his face. "Not bad for a poor miner, huh?"
He spent another hour recovering, letting the herbs' residual effects settle, and cataloging the plants he had not used. A few he stored for later—alchemists in town would pay handsomely for these. Others he carefully discarded, leaving no trace of their presence to avoid attracting unwanted attention from scavenging creatures.
When he finally rose, his pickaxe in hand, Hao Tian felt stronger but still grounded. This was a growth earned through patience and careful observation, not some miraculous burst of power. That realization made him respect the process—and the mountain—far more than he had before.
He returned to the main tunnels, careful to keep the subtle guidance of the Origin Flame in mind. It pulled faintly, tugging him in general directions rather than directly revealing treasures. He walked slowly, paying attention to the contours of the walls, the temperature of the air, and the soft echoes bouncing through the labyrinth.
It was in one of the narrower passages that he first noticed the signs of previous human activity. Faint scratches along the walls, small piles of discarded stones, and shallow pits hinted at someone having mined these areas long ago. He crouched, examining the marks carefully. Some were old—hundreds of years, perhaps—but the patterns were consistent with basic mineral extraction.
A flicker of hope sparked in him. If miners had traversed these tunnels, perhaps there was a way out. Perhaps the surface wasn't as far as he had feared.
He pressed forward, cautious yet increasingly confident. The faint tug of the Origin Flame remained with him, guiding him deeper but never forcing his hand. It seemed content for now to let him explore, to let him find resources on his own.
Soon, he encountered another sign of life… or at least of recent life. Three creatures, small and nimble, crawled out from the shadows of a side tunnel. Their bodies were similar in build to the Fire-Burrowing Moles he had faced earlier—muscular, low to the ground, claws faintly glowing red—but smaller, more wiry. Three of them moved in perfect synchronization, circling one another, waiting for him to make a mistake.
Hao Tian's heart raced. Fighting three body-refining level beasts at once had been suicide before. Now, with his newly enhanced body, he had a chance—but he knew better than to underestimate them. He stayed low, movements precise, watching for openings, calculating angles, and using the terrain.
The fight was tense and brutal. One creature lunged, and he sidestepped, swinging the pickaxe into its side. The impact rattled through his arms but only staggered it slightly. The second came from above, claws slicing through the air. He ducked, rolling over the dusted stone floor, and drove the pickaxe at its chest. Sparks flew, and the creature hissed, wounded but not defeated.
The third moved in from the shadows, but Hao Tian used the narrow tunnel to his advantage, forcing the beasts to converge in a single line. One after another, he struck, aiming at joints and thinner patches of hide. The battle lasted far longer than any previous skirmish, each strike, dodge, and movement a test of timing and endurance.
Finally, one creature collapsed, the pickaxe piercing a vulnerable point in its neck. The second fell shortly after, driven back into a corner and subdued by a calculated swing to its eye. The last, startled by the collapse of its companions, hesitated—and that moment was all Hao Tian needed. He drove the pickaxe with all his strength, striking its chest. It twitched once, then lay still.
Breathing heavily, Hao Tian wiped sweat and ash from his face. His body ached, but he was alive. Once again, he surveyed the battlefield carefully. No cores—only pseudo-core remnants—but the creatures' claws and hides were valuable enough to sell or refine.
As he explored further along the corridor, he found more subtle signs of previous mining activity. Broken tools, faint scratch marks, and partially collapsed tunnels hinted at tunnels once used to extract valuable minerals. A faint trail of ash led toward a descending passage, and Hao Tian's heart lifted. If these tunnels were connected to the surface, he might finally find a way out.
He paused, examining the traces. Careful observation suggested that the miners had followed a water vein or perhaps a minor fire vein, slowly chipping away at stone along the way. If he followed the path carefully, the tunnel could lead him to open air again. A plan began to form in his mind: follow the miner's trail, use the herbs and resources he had gathered to ensure his body could withstand the heat and danger, and eventually emerge closer to civilization.
For the first time in days, hope stretched before him like a narrow, shining path.
Hao Tian adjusted his breath, straightened, brushing the dust from his clothes, and surveyed the cavern. The three herbs he had discovered lay carefully wrapped in his cloth pouch. Their earthy, subtle scents mingled with the lingering heat of the underground tunnels, a quiet reminder that even in the depths of this forsaken mountain, life could cling to existence.
He paused, taking a deep breath. The minor scratches on his arms had stung during the fight but nothing was broken. His body still ached, but the warmth of the cavern and the recent exertion seemed to pulse through his veins like a soft, steady heartbeat.
Then, a subtle sensation stirred within him. Not a thought, not a voice—but the faintest tug at the base of his mind, like a whisper brushing against the edges of consciousness. His heart skipped.
The Origin Flame.
It had been quiet for so long. It had guided him toward the spiritual flame seed he had collected days ago, but now… now it seemed almost impatient, restless. A delicate, almost teasing pull. Hotter than before, warmer than the cave itself. It was a sensation he had learned to trust instinctively, but this… this was something different.
He tilted his head, listening to the silence of the cavern. There it was again: a subtle warmth, a faint radiance, a feeling of… opportunity. Something waited deeper within the mountain. Something far more valuable than anything he had stumbled upon.
Yet, he shook his head. A careful frown crossed his face. The herbs, the beaten beasts, the dizzying paths of fire and stone—he had risked enough for the day. Each step forward had demanded focus, strategy, and caution. To pursue whatever the flame hinted at now would mean venturing even deeper into the unknown, where danger would multiply and even a slight mistake could cost him everything.
Hao Tian's gaze drifted toward the faintly marked tunnels that hinted at old mining routes—signs that could lead him back to the surface, back to the town, back to a place where he could rest, recover, and plan. That was the path he could safely take today. The pull of the flame seed, and whatever lay beyond it, would have to wait.
A small smile tugged at his lips, quiet but resolute. "Patience," he whispered to himself. "The mountain isn't going anywhere. And neither am I."
He carefully wrapped the herbs back into his pouch, feeling their subtle weight, their quiet reassurance. Then, gripping his pickaxe, he turned toward the faint traces of the old tunnel system. Each step carried him closer to the surface, but the sensation within his mind lingered—a persistent warmth, a quiet beckoning.
The Origin Flame pulsed faintly, as if approving of his choice. It did not complain, only hummed with restrained pride, subtly hinting at a greater opportunity, a prize far beyond the fragile warmth of the spiritual flame seed he had already found. Hao Tian could feel it, deep inside, a promise of potential that would one day change everything—but not today. Not yet.
With steady, careful steps, he followed the remnants of the old mining tunnels. The walls, scarred by centuries of forgotten labor, seemed to guide him, offering a path out of the underground labyrinth. Heat still clung to the air, thick and heavy, but it no longer felt oppressive. Instead, it was a reminder that life, danger, and opportunity all coexisted in this mountain—and that he had survived enough to see another day.
As he walked, he glanced back once, toward the darker, unexplored veins of the cave. The shadows seemed to flicker, almost as if alive. The subtle tug from the Origin Flame had not faded; it lingered, patient, insistent. Hao Tian's lips curved into a quiet, confident grin.
"I'll come back," he muttered under his breath. "And when I do… I'll find it all."
The mountain was not done with him, and neither was the Origin Flame. But for now, the path to the surface beckoned, and with it, the promise of recovery, preparation, and a future waiting to be seized.
With a final glance at the glowing remnants of the cavern behind him, Hao Tian stepped forward, letting the old tunnels guide him toward the world above. Every careful step, every cautious breath, was a reminder: survival was the first victory. Everything else—treasure, flame, opportunity—could wait.
And as the faint heat of the cavern faded behind him, the Origin Flame pulsed softly within him, warm and silent, hinting at the chaos and power that awaited him deeper within the mountain. One day, he would return. And when he did… the world beneath the fire would tremble.