Chapter 11: Downfall and Rescue

Over ten years passed. One day as Ethan was drinking coffee, a loud noise came from outside. More than ten great demons revealed their true forms, crazily attacking Pinehill Mountain—the Heavenly Soldiers at the pass were instantly turned to dust.

Ethan shouted, led eight hundred Heavenly Soldiers to block the pass.

"This place is under Heavenly Command protection. Why attack? Slaughtering Heavenly Soldiers—what do you want?"

Ethan didn’t want to be here, but the rules were strict. Retreating without fighting was death.

Several great demons, all with Heavenly Immortal power, had red eyes. A nine-tailed fox shrieked:

"My Silver Fox Clan has existed since ancient times. Why did the Heavenly Command destroy us? The Great Sage rebelled, we did not follow—what crime have we?"

"Why talk to this soldier? Kill them all! The reincarnation of the prince is imprisoned in Pinehill Mountain—let’s rescue him and leave."

Another demon advised the fox.

The great demons unleashed their powers, the world changed color. Ethan, only mid-stage True Immortal, was no match. In one clash, he was blasted tens of thousands of miles away, spitting blood, meridians destroyed, life or death unknown.

The great demons wiped out thousands of Heavenly Soldiers, then rushed to the mountain top. Suddenly, a giant golden hand appeared in the sky, about to grab the demons. From the east, a spear shot over, shattering the golden hand.

"Aaron Ding, how dare you!"

The one who unleashed the golden hand was none other than Howard Stanley, commander of the 256th Regiment. Howard Stanley angrily shouted.

Dragon roars sounded; in a flash, a handsome silver-armored general charged at Howard Stanley.

"A little tiger dares act up before me? Is the West really so weak!"

In a few breaths, Howard Stanley was beaten to soul destruction.

"Take them out quickly! Our Dragon Clan promised the Great Sage, we will protect you."

No matter how fierce the fight above, it was now irrelevant to Ethan. Ethan lay in a crater, motionless. In fact, he woke up as soon as he landed—just couldn’t move. He could only feel his true spirit slowly dissipating. The dust he raised was large, but caused no ripple—just like before. So tired. Just want to sleep.

It was like getting hit by a runaway semi and waking up at the bottom of a ditch on a rainy highway. For a while, all you can do is watch the world go on above you, helpless, the fight leaking out of your bones one heartbeat at a time. I thought of the old farm back in Maple Heights, the smell of rain, the sound of my sister calling me in for supper. Sometimes the end looks a lot like the beginning.

"Run, why don’t you run? You newly ascended Primordial Immortal, what right do you have to fight my Carter family!"

In a forest, several mid-stage Primordial Immortals surrounded a female cultivator, arrogant and wild. The female cultivator looked resentful, hair messy, her embroidered robe torn, her calf exposed.

"I thought the Immortal Realm was paradise, but it’s just like the lower world—full of petty schemers. Heaven and earth are so broken, the Path so unfair, why not bring calamity and wipe you out?"

Her words were harsh but her tone calm. The Primordial Immortals saw her exposed calf, their eyes greedy.

"How long since we’ve seen such a moon-palace-like female cultivator? You hurt our Carter family young master, the ancestor decreed you must die in agony. But we’re gentlemen—if you serve us a few days, we’ll let you die quickly. Hahaha!"

All was silent but their laughter. The female cultivator said nothing, thinking of using a treasure in her ring to die with them. They pressed closer with weapons. She closed her eyes, took out Thunder Beads. Though only a Great Ascension treasure, there were many—even if they couldn’t kill the enemy, at least she could die to avoid humiliation.

"Immortal, in this life I cannot repay your kindness. I hope in the next I can serve you, to repay you."

Swish, swish, swish. A golden sword flew from afar, stringing the Primordial Immortals together, nailing them to a rock—even their souls scattered. Instantly killed.

Violence, even here, was quick and brutal, always just around the bend. For Callie, it was the ugly side of paradise, no different from the bullies and hustlers back in the old world—just with fancier powers and deadlier stakes. When the golden sword came, it was like the cavalry showing up, but in this land, there were no medals or parades for the saved.