The salty, icy wind, carrying the unique scent of decaying seaweed, scraped across Lin Feng's cheeks like a knife.
He stood at the bow of an old wooden flying boat, the rough planks groaning under his feet, unable to bear the weight.
The flying boat cut through the misty gray fog, below lay an endless, roiling sea of dark green waves, the dull roar of the tide like a giant beast breathing in the abyss. Ahead, a jagged black outline gradually became distinct in the mist.
Black Reef Island.
Lin Feng tightened the faded, Lin Family-standard gray Magical Robe around him, the thin Spiritual Qi from his Four Spiritual Roots slowly circulating in his Meridians, barely dispelling the bone-deep chill.
This chill came partly from the harsh sea, and partly from the fragmented memories of the body's original owner, as well as the sense of profound disorientation deep within his own Soul, a feeling of not belonging.
“Lin Feng, Eleventh Brother, that's Black Reef Island ahead,” a slightly hoarse voice said from behind him.
Lin Feng turned his head slightly.
It was Lin Hai, the Cultivator piloting the flying boat, a Middle Stage Qi Refining Cultivator. His eyes were etched with the marks of wind and frost, and his gaze towards Lin Feng held a hint of subtle pity, along with a touch of relief, as if to say, “Finally, this hot potato is gone.”
“Yes, I see it, Third Brother Lin Hai,” Lin Feng's voice was calm and unruffled.
He withdrew his gaze, turning it back to the black island floating in the mist.
Huge, black reefs, as if cleaved by a giant axe, formed the island's jagged skeleton, and the waves fiercely crashed against them, shattering into pale foam. Vegetation on the island was sparse; all that met the eye was gray-yellow and deep brown. Only near the island's center could one see a small, relatively neat outline of fields shimmering with a faint Spiritual Light—that should be the island's only ten acres of First Grade Spiritual Fields.
Further away, scattered along the mountain slopes, were large areas of low, crude thatched huts and earthen houses, like barnacles clinging to the reefs. These were the dwellings of the island's more than fifty thousand Mortal residents. The entire island exuded a desolate and harsh aura, as if forgotten by the world.
Lin Hai slowly lowered the flying boat, its breaking-wind sound startling a few scrawny seabirds on the shore reefs, causing them to emit piercing squawks. The flying boat finally hovered above a relatively flat, large black reef, about three zhang off the ground.
“Eleventh Brother, we're here.” Lin Hai pointed downwards. “The Formation core is in that stone house in the center of the island. Everything left by the previous occupant is inside. You've also seen the Spiritual Fields and the Mortal village.”
He fumbled in a heavily worn Storage Pouch at his waist for a moment, pulling out a palm-sized, grayish-white Formation Plate carved with simple wave runes. He handed it over, “This is the Water Mist Maze Formation Plate, a First Grade Mid-Tier. When fully activated, it can block a Late Stage Qi Refining Cultivator for a short while. There's only one First Grade Spiritual Vein on the island, and the Spiritual Qi is very thin, Eleventh Brother… take care of yourself.”
In Lin Hai's words, the phrase “take care of yourself” was particularly meaningful. He clearly didn't believe that Lin Feng, this “Trash” with Four Spiritual Roots at the Fourth Level of Qi Refining, could last long in such a godforsaken place.
The Black Reef Island garrison mission, which had been listed in the task book for half a year with no one taking it, was finally accepted by this naive young man. He felt relieved.
Lin Feng silently accepted the cold Formation Plate; it felt rough to the touch, and the Spiritual Qi sensing was weak. He didn't respond to Lin Hai's implied meaning, only nodded: “Thank you for the escort, Third Brother.”
Lin Hai said no more, performing a hand seal. Lin Feng felt the supporting force beneath his feet lighten, and his body descended towards the cold black reef below.
Above, the flying boat's breaking-wind sound resumed, quickly moving away, soon disappearing into the thick fog, leaving only the endless roar of the waves.
As his feet landed on the damp, slippery reef, a strong odor of mixed sea salt, fish, and a faint hint of decay assailed him, ten times more potent than in the air. Lin Feng frowned slightly, steadying himself.
Almost at the instant the flying boat vanished, a flurry of footsteps and suppressed exclamations came from the narrow path leading from the reef beach to the interior of the island.
Soon, a group of Mortals, dressed in tattered hemp clothes and looking sallow and emaciated, stumbled over, led by an old man with white hair and beard, leaning on a crude wooden staff.
“Immortal Master! It's Immortal Master!” The leading old man's voice trembled, tinged with a sob, and from afar, he plopped down onto the jagged reef ground, knocking his forehead heavily.
Dozens of men and women behind him, regardless of age, also knelt in unison, their foreheads pressed against the cold, damp ground, their bodies trembling slightly from cold or excitement. The sea wind whipped their ragged clothes, revealing their bony ribs and dark skin.
“Black Reef Island Lord… Zhang… Zhang Youtian, along with all the island's people, respectfully welcome Immortal Master!” The old man (Zhang Youtian)'s voice was drowned by the sea wind, sounding humble and fearful.
Lin Feng's gaze swept over the Mortals prostrating on the ground. Their eyes were numb, fearful, with deep-seated terror of hunger and cold, and an instinctive awe and plea towards the “Immortal Master.” This land had drained all their Life Qi. He remained silent for a few breaths before slowly speaking, his voice not loud, but clear enough to cut through the wind and waves:
“Rise. I am Lin Feng of the Lin Family, the new garrison Cultivator of this island. Lead me to the Island Lord's residence and the Spiritual Fields.”
Zhang Youtian, as if granted a great pardon, struggled to his feet, hunching his back, and cautiously led the way: “Yes, yes! Immortal Master, please follow this old man!” As he walked, he gestured with his eyes for a few relatively strong men behind him to quickly get up and follow.
They passed through a rocky area and stepped onto a muddy dirt road. On both sides of the road were low, crooked thatched huts, and some sallow, emaciated children peeked out from behind door panels, their eyes timid yet curious.
The air was filled with a pungent smell of fish, sea salt, and mixed excrement. In the distance, near the faint Spiritual Light area in the center of the island, a few equally simple but slightly more orderly stone houses came into view. On the roof of one of them, a faded small flag with a damaged edge, depicting wave runes, was planted—that was the core of the Formation.
Zhang Youtian led Lin Feng to the largest stone house. The stone house was built of rough black stones, with moss and dry seaweed stuffed into the cracks. The only wooden door was crooked, letting in wind and drafts. The small open area in front of the door, however, had been swept clean.
“Immortal Master, this… this is the Island Lord's residence. Everything left by the previous Immortal Master is inside.” Zhang Youtian rubbed his hands, feeling uneasy. “The Spiritual Fields are not far behind the house… it's just… last year's harvest wasn't very good, and the insect plague was severe, so I'm afraid… I'm afraid this year's tribute…” His voice trailed off, filled with worry.
Lin Feng did not respond to the mention of tribute, merely pushing open the creaking wooden door.
A strong smell of mold and dust assailed him. The interior of the house was extremely simple: a rough stone bed, covered with some dry, blackened seaweed; a wooden table with a missing leg propped up by a stone; and a few empty burlap sacks and a broken clay pot piled in the corner.
The only conspicuous items were a half-worn gray Storage Pouch on the stone bed, and a wooden-sheathed longsword leaning against the wall. The scabbard was full of scratches, indicating that the previous occupant had left in a great hurry, even somewhat disheveled.
Lin Feng picked up the Storage Pouch and probed it with his Divine Sense. The space was small, containing only a few items: several dull-colored, faintly Spiritual Qi-emitting Low-Grade Spirit Stones; a few bottles of inferior Medicinal Pills labeled “Grain Abstinence Pill” and “Hemostasis Powder”; two Jade Slips, one recording the “Canglan Lin Family Rules,” and the other “Basic Spiritual Plant Overview (Incomplete)”; and finally, a bronze token engraved with the character “Lin,” representing his identity as the garrison Cultivator.
He hung the token at his waist and picked up the longsword. The blade emerged half an inch from its scabbard, its cold light dim, and there were several tiny nicks on its edge. It barely qualified as a First Grade Low Grade Magical Artifact.
Zhang Youtian and a few men waited outside the door nervously, not daring to breathe loudly.
Lin Feng sheathed the longsword and hung it at his own waist, then walked out of the stone house. He didn't look at Zhang Youtian, his gaze directed straight towards the so-called Spiritual Fields behind the house.
Ten acres of land, enclosed by a low fence whose symbolic meaning outweighed its practical use. The soil was an unhealthy grayish-yellow, sparsely growing some wilted, yellow-leafed rice stalks.
The Spiritual Qi was pitifully thin, only slightly better than other parts of the island, clearly indicating that the First Grade Spiritual Vein beneath was also at its last gasp. A few black beetles, the size of fingernails, shimmering with a metallic luster, slowly crawled among the rice leaves, gnawing at them; these were the common “Black Iron Borers” on the island.
Looking at the desolate and dilapidated scene before them, the despair on Zhang Youtian's and the men's faces grew deeper. How could such a place, such Spiritual Field output, meet the Immortal Master's demands? And how could they fulfill the heavy tribute to the Family? They seemed to already see even harsher exploitation and a hopeless future.
However, on Lin Feng's calm face, a faint, almost imperceptible glimmer of light flickered deep within his profound eyes. This desolation, this barrenness, this remoteness far from the Family's core… this was precisely what he sought!
He closed his eyes slightly, his consciousness sinking into the depths of his Sea of Consciousness.
In a boundless Chaos, a peculiar sapling floated quietly. It was only three feet tall, its branches gnarled like a Dragon, shimmering with a warm, jade-like luster. Its leaves were strangely shaped, like flowing runes, and its entire body was enveloped in a hazy, Chaotic aura. This was his sole reliance, brought deep within his Soul when he underwent Transmigration—the Divine Ability Fruit Tree.
At this moment, at the tips of three slender branches of the fruit tree, three distinct, ethereal fruits had condensed.
The first fruit, shaped like a condensed sharp edge, exuded a fierce aura capable of severing evil and destroying demonic Qi. When his thoughts touched it, the Divine Ability's name naturally appeared: 【Zhanyao】. Passive enhancement, increasing the power of attacks against demonic evil twofold; active activation, consuming one point of Divine Power, can unleash a fatal strike surpassing one's own great Realm!
The second fruit resembled an invisible vortex, faintly emitting the low roars of myriad beasts: 【【Gather Beast】】. Active activation, consuming one point of Divine Power, can, according to one's will, summon Yao Beasts within one great Realm lower than oneself!
The third fruit, with swirling clouds and flowing water: 【Rain Prayer】. An active Divine Ability, consuming one point of Divine Power, can bring down sweet rain. Its true mystical properties, Lin Feng was still exploring, but his intuition told him that this was by no means a simple act of bringing clouds and rain.
Each Divine Ability gained increased the Divine Power limit by one point. After Divine Power was consumed, it required a full day to recover. He currently only had three points of Divine Power, meaning he could only use an active Divine Ability once a day at most.
Zhanyao was his sharp blade for slaying enemies beyond his Realm and gaining cultivation feedback! 【Gather Beast】 was his fishing net for controlled monster pulling, self-tempering, and resource harvesting! As for Rain Prayer… Lin Feng's gaze once again fell upon the withered ten acres of Spiritual Fields, and a bold speculation dimly formed in his mind.
This remote, dangerous, and resource-scarce Black Reef Island, a place of exile for others, was for him, Lin Feng, a hunting ground where he could sense the wind before the cicadas, a perfect starting point for the Dao of Longevity!
He opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the Mortals kneeling and trembling, over the sickly Spiritual Fields, and finally resting on the distant, turbulent, ink-colored sea teeming with countless sea Yao Beasts.
“There's no need to worry about the tribute.” Lin Feng's voice was not loud, but it carried a strange penetrative power, clearly reaching the ears of every fearful Mortal, “Just work with peace of mind.”
Zhang Youtian suddenly looked up, his cloudy old eyes filled with disbelief. The men behind him were also stunned, almost doubting if they had heard correctly. Not worried about tribute? Was this new young Immortal Master perhaps boasting? Or… did he have other intentions?
Lin Feng no longer paid attention to their surprise, turning and walking towards the dilapidated stone house. He needed to familiarize himself with this only sanctuary, check the barely-there “Water Mist Maze Formation,” and carefully consider how to begin his first “hunt” on this forgotten black reef.
In his Sea of Consciousness, the Divine Ability Fruit Tree swayed without wind, and the three ethereal Divine Ability Fruits faintly shimmered.