Chapter 8: The Cultivator Hunter
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One week had passed since the Womb of Soil awakened.
Green Mist Village flourished. The spirit rice sprouted early this season, and children no longer suffered from the dry cough that lingered every spring. The villagers were beginning to feel something sacred stirring in the land — even if they couldn't name it.
Li Yuan, however, remained restless.
He could feel the threads of fate tightening around him like vines. The relics — each one bound to a piece of his suppressed soul — were waking. And with them, so too were the enemies of his past.
> [System Notification: Tracking Energy Pulse Detected — 1.2 km from Southern Perimeter]
[Danger Level: High – Threat Type: Rogue Cultivator, Human Origin. Estimated Power Class: A-Rank]
[Status: Approaching.]
Li Yuan's fingers tightened around the hoe.
He stood by the old scarecrow, eyes fixed toward the southern mountains.
> "They're sending hunters now."
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Arrival of the Stranger
That afternoon, a figure approached the village gates.
He wore the robes of a wandering merchant — wide-brimmed straw hat, cloak filled with trinkets, and a rolling cart creaking behind him. But Li Yuan knew immediately: this was no merchant.
> [System Scan Complete — Concealed Spirit Cultivator: Rank A]
[Alias: "Ghostwind Fang" — Former bounty elite of the Shadow-Twelve Sect]
[Noted for: Assassination Contracts, Qi-Suppression Arts, and Soul Imprisonment Techniques]
He came with a smile, voice light and friendly.
> "Ho there, good farmer!" the man called. "I bring remedies, seeds from the Golden Empire, and teas brewed from lightning blossoms!"
Li Yuan stepped forward, hoe resting on his shoulder.
> "And who sent you?" he asked plainly.
The man chuckled, removing his hat. He had sharp eyes and silver hair tied into a looped tail.
> "Straight to the point, eh? I like that."
"I was hired to retrieve something precious. You're holding it."
His gaze flicked to the hoe.
Li Yuan didn't move.
> "It's not for sale."
Ghostwind smiled.
> "Then we negotiate through combat."
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Battle in the Rice Fields
It began without warning.
A blast of compressed spirit wind shot from Ghostwind's sleeve, splitting the sky. Li Yuan leapt backwards, rolling across his terraced fields. The blast carved a ten-meter crater into Plot 2B, sending stalks of spirit rice into the air.
> [System: Defense Protocol Engaged – Rootsplit Hoe: Anchor Mode]
Li Yuan slammed the hoe into the ground.
Golden roots surged outward, knitting a web of protective qi across the field. Spirit earth pulsed, anchoring the terrain.
> "You destroy another stalk of rice," Li Yuan muttered,
"I'll bury you deeper than your ancestors."
Ghostwind laughed, releasing a fan of spirit daggers.
They shimmered in midair — made not of metal, but of condensed air blades. Dozens launched in a spiraling pattern, a storm meant to slice from every angle.
But Li Yuan vanished.
Ghostwind's eyes widened.
> "Teleportation?"
> [System Skill Activated: Soil-Step — Instant reposition to a soil-based anchor within 30 meters]
Li Yuan reappeared behind him.
The hoe swung.
CLANG.
Ghostwind blocked with a sudden iron fan, but the impact sent him skidding thirty feet, boots carving trenches in the field.
> "You're better than they said," Ghostwind spat, wiping blood from his lip.
> "They said I was dead," Li Yuan replied.
Ghostwind's eyes narrowed.
> "They were wrong."
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A Duel of Paths
Ghostwind's next attack came as a whirlwind — literally.
He spun, creating a localized tornado that ripped through the landscape. Trees bent. Rocks tore free. The air thinned to a vacuum. It was a deadly dance of spiritual wind cultivation — chaotic and beautiful.
But Li Yuan stood his ground.
His eyes closed.
He could hear the soil crying beneath the attack. Roots screamed. Earth trembled.
> [System Interface: Earthen Resonance Mode Activated]
[New Passive Gained: Root Memory – You may draw defensive patterns from ancient ley-lines buried within cultivated land]
His feet lit up with green sigils.
He planted the hoe. Soil rose like a wave.
The wind clashed with earth — two elemental forces. Where wind sought chaos, earth held firm.
The cyclone shattered.
Ghostwind gasped, staggering as pebbles and roots struck him from all sides. But instead of falling back, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a black sphere.
> "You leave me no choice!"
He crushed it.
Darkness spread.
Forbidden Qi. Soul-bound technique.
Spiritual tendrils erupted from the ground, pulling everything into a vortex. Even light seemed to bend around the implosion. It was the Soul Prison — a technique that would trap both of them in an illusionary world where time moved slower.
Li Yuan's vision blurred.
But he heard her voice.
Granny Xue.
Or was it the Womb of Soil?
> "Trust the land, child. Let the soil carry you."
He dropped to one knee and dug his hand into the dirt.
Suddenly, he was back — not in the illusion, but deep within the consciousness of the land itself.
He stood in a memory of the soil — where it had first been tilled centuries ago. Where generations of farmers bled and worked. It welcomed him.
> [Soil Connection Strengthened — Awakening Trait: Farmer's Domain]
[Temporary Buff: All attacks within this field gain 30% earth-element bonus. Duration: 10 minutes]
Li Yuan stood.
And he struck.
The hoe glowed golden, carving a path through the vortex. The illusion cracked.
Ghostwind's eyes widened.
> "Impossible—!"
The final blow struck his chest.
The bounty hunter flew backward, crashing into a boulder. He slumped down, unconscious, breathing shallow.
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System Update
> [Enemy Defeated: Ghostwind Fang – A-Rank Cultivator]
[XP Gained: 12,300]
[New Skill Learned: Wind Counterpulse – Reverse an incoming wind-based attack and redirect its momentum]
[Soil Qi Affinity Rank Increased: Low Tier → Mid Tier]
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Aftermath
The villagers emerged slowly from their homes, eyes wide.
No one had seen the fight — not with normal eyes. But the trembling earth, the warped wind, and the flickering light were enough.
They had feared that their gentle farmer might vanish into war again.
Instead, he stood tall among stalks of bent but unbroken rice.
He picked up his hoe, resting it over his shoulder.
> "Let's fix Plot 2B," he said with a small smile.
Granny Xue chuckled.
> "You always clean up your mess."
That night, he buried Ghostwind's weapon and whispered a blessing over him.
He wasn't just a cultivator or a god reborn.
He was a farmer.
And even enemies deserved rest when the soil called them home.
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Meanwhile…
Far to the east, beyond the Bone-Dry Marsh, a gate opened.
It shimmered with multiversal energy — not qi, not magic. Something older.
A man stepped through.
Tall. Eyes like galaxies. On his chest, a sigil pulsed — the Mark of the Watchers.
He looked toward the west.
> "Xiao Tianmie… you sow your fields again."
"Then I must burn them."
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To Be Continued…
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