Another Cliché Cultivation Story

“What!?”

General Fuhai’s words made everyone’s hearts skip a beat. How could they have failed to notice someone’s presence so close by? The area they had descended upon wasn’t large— if anyone had been nearby, they should have sensed them immediately. They were all Chosens of the Graha race, born and raised in the Upper World, each extraordinary in their own right. And yet, the moment they set foot in the Lower World, they were caught off guard and reprimanded by the General.

But they couldn’t complain.

Being unable to sense your opponent could be the difference between life and death.

They were careless. Upon realizing their oversight, they composed themselves and became serious.

General Fuhai eyed the Chosens in front of him carefully, inwardly shaking his head as he did so. As one of the five generals in command of the Graha army, he had seen better discipline from his soldiers than from these Chosen. While they might have the advantage of talent, arrogance stained their hearts. Fortunately, there was still room for them to learn. Every Chosen could potentially one day become the pillar of the race therefore it was important to carefully nurture them.

“Complacency is a road onward to death,” he lectured sternly. “Many of you are holding prejudice against the Lower World, but need I remind you of what happened to the Celestial race?”

“The Celestials…” The mood dropped as every Graha present remembered the events that happened not so long ago. The shocking news that one of the four supreme races was defeated in the Lower World and not a single one of their Chosens returned from their conquest.

This caused a major commotion in the Upper World, mainly because in that group of Chosens who descended, there were Shen Yu and Shen Ling— two extremely important figures.

Shen Yu was the fourth son of the current Patriarch of the Celestials, while Shen Ling was an Absolute. She was someone destined for transcendence. It was this event that led to many factions eyeing the Mortal Haven World.

If even those two could lose their life, then no one was truly safe in the Lower World.

The Grahas reflected, shockingly correcting their mindset in an instant. Even the more experienced ones were the same.

General Fuhai nodded after seeing their change in attitude. He continued, “The Celestials is one example, and the Nether is another.”

The air immediately turned strange as the Grahas turned to look at the Nether race behind them. Contemptuous sneers could be heard and only made the Nether race members lower their heads even more from humiliation.

There was only one person in that group who kept their neck straight and was without a hint of shame. He had the usual features you’d expect from a member of the Nether race— pale grey skin, and emerald green eyes, but his hair actually had streaks of green in it. He was someone with the potential to become a Graha. While the others were laughed at, none of the mockery was aimed at him.

While the Graha often viewed the Nether with disdain, not everyone from the Nether race was seen that way. To them, a hierarchy exists, and it is one based on merits and contribution. This person in particular was in no way inferior to General Fuhai in that regard. He had waged war on behalf of the Graha race countless times and his strength was in no way inferior. Through his numerous victories, he had earned their respect.

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General Fuhai’s eyes fell on him, with his tone slightly softer, he asked, “Di Han, do you have anything to say?”

“None,” Di Han replied indifferently with his arms crossed. “The command to descend was from the Great Sovereign. As a result, he was punished by the Autarch and we’ve also lost our men. There isn’t more that needs to be said.”

Di Han had short hair and was wearing his black nether armor minus the helmet. As he spoke, his eyes narrowed when he mentioned the loss of the hundred Chosens and an Absolute. Though his face remained stoic, a pinch of pain struck his heart—the losses they experienced were simply too great.

General Fuhai nodded, “The Nether has been acting rather independently lately, without any thought of our race. I hope you of all people remember the grace we have shown to your kind and remind the Great Sovereign to behave and not have any unruly thoughts.”

Di Han’s brows furrowed. He felt like Fuhai was hinting at something. He asked, “What are you implying?”

“Just remember, Di Han, the Autarch sees all.”

General Fuhai cautioned Di Han then proceeded to ignore him. He turned around and eyed Fanhuo beside him, “Now… about our guest.”

Fanhuo immediately understood. He looked to the other Grahas and they too, nodded.

The forty-nine Grahas simultaneously used their soul pulses, sending out a thick ring of fog rippling outward in all directions. They couldn’t find the intruder individually, but together, no one could hide from them. РÅɴՕꞖЁS

This ability was primarily used for perception and wasn’t lethal—at least not for cultivators, who would only be momentarily stunned. But for mortals, it could be far more devastating, capable of obliterating their souls and leaving nothing but a lifeless husk behind.

However, when used by so many Grahas at once, its effect would be greatly amplified, threatening to even cultivators.

They were considered a supreme race for a reason, having almost zero to no weaknesses. Whether they fought in groups or individually, their strength was undeniable. Only a defensive soul artifact could hold them at bay.

The bloated ring quickly expanded. The most unfortunate victims in this situation were the sea beasts, once again caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. The life drained from their eyes as thousands of their bodies sank to the ocean’s depths. Even the most powerful among them, capable of rivaling peak Holy Realm cultivators, were not spared.

This was merely the result of forty-nine Grahas— now, imagine thousands of hundreds of thousands of them.

In the Upper World, there is a saying: A war with the Graha is as pointless as counting the stars in the universe. The outcome is decided long before the battle even begins and that is because of their soul pulse.

it wasn’t only their greatest support but their strongest weapon.

As the haze spread across every corner of the island and beyond, it swept past the high palace at the heart of the Amber Soul Kingdom. Inside, a petite figure with dark crimson hair, dressed in red, stood in the tall chambers, gazing blankly at the shattered throne.

The approaching pressure brought with it a powerful gust of wind. As it struck the figure, it brushed aside the bangs on her forehead, revealing a golden flame symbol that contained profound nomological essences. Despite being hit by the combined soul pulses—strong enough to destroy the souls of sea beasts rivaling those at the peak of the Holy Realm—she remained unfazed and unaffected.

In her eyes, a single image burned. It was as if time had rewound, and through the fiery glow of her irises, she saw the shadow of a woman—domineering, standing tall and proud before the grand throne. This woman was the antithesis of the universe itself—one who should never have been born, one who was loathed by the Heavens, and one who was rejected by the Universal Will.

Yet, despite her circumstances, her path was her own. No trials and tribulations could stop her, they were but obstacles in her road to becoming one above all.

Chills crept onto the skin of the petite figure as the image faded. She quietly whispered, “Han Lan… just what are you?”

 

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