Cheat God
25. Nirvana Lotus

The valley spread wide before him like a forgotten scar in the earth, sunken between broken cliffs and ridgelines shaped by time and battle. It was quiet—eerily so. But to Liu Chen, that stillness meant opportunity. He glanced at the map etched into his jade slip. This place had once been bathed in cursed fog, thick and poisonous. None had dared approach it in the past half-year, and no exploration teams were sent. But now…

The cursed fog was gone.

Only heavenly aura remained—dense, untamed, coiling over the earth like golden smoke.

Liu Chen stepped into the valley’s heart without hesitation. The moment his foot touched the soil, his golden soul surged. Warmth radiated through his body as it began to pull in heavenly aura at an astonishing speed, threads of energy drawn from the very air.

Unlike other cultivators who needed to sit and meditate to absorb even a trace, his soul drank it in hungrily—eager, efficient, relentless. Unlike others, Liu Chen didn’t need to meditate or channel techniques. His golden soul absorbed heavenly energy naturally, like breathing. Every step he took brought him more strength.

A low hum echoed inside him as the Ghost Eye mark flickered faintly on his brow, feeding quietly off the overflow. He smiled faintly. Others wander blindly in this land… but to me, the aura guides the way.

With each breath, he grew stronger—not just in cultivation, but in awareness. The golden soul sharpened his senses, stretching them across the terrain like a net. As he moved deeper, his feet barely touched the ground, silent as wind over grass.

His soul sensed movement in the soil. He paused, turned toward a mound tucked near a craggy cliff, and brushed the loose dirt aside. Beneath it: a cluster of shimmering herbs, glowing faintly gold, crowned with five tiny flower petals shaped like blades.

Heavenly Blade Herb. It was an extremely rare plant, infused with spiritual edge—often used to temper weapon-based cultivation techniques. Powerful, priceless... but not for him. 

But he still placed it carefully into his jade herb pouch. Even if I can’t use it now, it’s soaked in heavenly aura. That alone makes it worth many times the price of normal versions outside, he thought, expression calm. Who throws away gold just because they don’t wear jewelry?

That became his motto as he walked deeper into the valley. Even duplicate herbs, even those used for techniques he didn’t cultivate — he picked every one. Heavenly aura changed their quality completely. A basic spirit leaf from this land might match the effect of a mid-grade pill refined elsewhere.

Spirit moss, twilight ginseng, silver spine roots — nothing escaped his eye or his pouch. Even cracked beast bones and wilted petals found their way into storage. If my pouch had a voice, it’d be crying from the weight by now.

He couldn’t help but smile at that. It wasn’t greed. It was logic. Everything here carried aura more refined, more condensed than anything sold on the market. And he had the soul strength to sense it before anyone else could. Let those fools argue over ancient techniques. I’ll walk away with the ingredients that fund twenty breakthroughs.

For a while, he even forgot about danger or battles. He was just a quiet figure wrapped in a black coat, walking through golden mist, bending near roots and crumbling walls, humming softly under his breath.

“Hmm… not bad. I’ll name myself Supreme Forager Liu for the day.”

But eventually, his golden soul trembled again — not from aura, but from spiritual movement ahead. He stopped and narrowed his eyes.

Toward the northern bend of the valley, he saw it — a wide circle of thirty or so cultivators gathered in silence, facing an ancient, half-buried stone structure at the base of a cliff.

They weren’t fighting. They weren’t talking.

They were just… watching.

Their formation was scattered but careful. A few teams. Some carried beast marks on their robes, others bore black skin patterns that reminded Liu Chen of the Black Veil Tribe.

He didn’t approach directly.

Instead, he climbed to higher ground, using the rocky slope to shield his presence. His long black coat flowed behind him, covering his clan robes. Without the Liu crest, he looked like just another lone rogue.

He crouched behind a stone outcropping and stretched his soul sense across the field. To most people, getting caught spying on this crowd might mean death. To Liu Chen, with his golden soul and natural concealment abilities? From this vantage, he heard faint conversations.

Below the ridge where the thirty cultivators stood, a dark pond shimmered faintly under the golden fog. Unlike the rest of the valley, this water held no heavenly aura—it was unnaturally still, almost heavy, like it was weighed down by something invisible.

At its center floated a single lotus. Blood-red petals curled tightly around a glowing golden core, unmoving despite the stagnant ripples around it. Liu Chen’s sharp eyes narrowed.

The cultivators below were murmuring softly, cautious and restrained.

“That’s the Blood Spirit Nirvana Lotus,” someone whispered. “It appears only when hundred of type beast blood has soaked the land for decades.”

“It strengthens the blood marrow… increases vigor… even boosts cultivation,” another said, tone heavy with longing. “A true body-refining treasure.”

But none of them dared step forward. Because at the base of the pond, just beneath the surface, a massive dark shape stirred occasionally—slow, but very much alive.

“Guardian beast,” Liu Chen murmured under his breath, already piecing the scene together. “Of course.”

Even without seeing it fully, he could sense the hostility. The beast's aura clung to the water like a warning. If that lotus wasn’t guarded, it would’ve been snatched already.

Liu Chen adjusted his cloak and sat quietly atop the ridge. He had no intention of being the first to leap into that trap. Let them test the waters. If they live, I’ll move next. If they die… even better. He laaned back slightly, expression calm. After all, watching can be useful too.