Cultivation starts with picking up attributes-Chapter 56: Ch-: The Exiled Flame?

The sea battle had left Thunderhead Isle shaken but not broken.

Smoke from the wrecked merchant vessel still drifted lazily over the harbor as cultivators worked to haul away the remains and tend to the wounded.

The ocean, once a storm-tossed battlefield, now lapped at the shore with eerie calm, as if the island itself were holding its breath.

Tian Shen stood near the edge of the harbor, staring at the place where the white-haired figure had vanished beneath the waves.

"The others will come for you now..."

That voice lingered in his mind like a curse—its ominous weight pressing on his chest.

He didn’t know how many others "they" were or what faction they belonged to, but the implication was clear: his journey had stirred things that would not stay buried.

Feng Yin approached silently, her long hair tied back in a high tail, her robes slightly tattered but her presence as poised as ever.

"He wasn’t lying, was he?"

She asked quietly.

"There really are others after the relic fragments."

Tian Shen nodded.

"Which means we don’t have much time. But before we leave..."

His gaze drifted toward the island’s heart—toward the jagged cliffs that cut through the center like the spine of a slumbering beast.

"There’s more to this island than that shrine. I can feel it. The Qi here is... not natural."

Feng Yin followed his gaze, her brow furrowing.

"You want to explore more ruins?"

"We only scratched the surface," Tian Shen said.

"Something powerful slumbers here."

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"We’ll stay for one more day. But only one."

—An Hour Later—

They regrouped near the outpost, where the local sect leaders—now far more accommodating—offered a guarded welcome after learning of Tian Shen’s involvement in both the shrine trial and the sea-fiend battle.

A young scout, his eyes shifting nervously between Tian Shen and Feng Yin, stepped forward after being bribed with a high-grade talisman scroll.

"There’s an older crypt deep in Blackvine Grove," he whispered.

"Locals avoid it. They say it’s cursed... Something about an exiled old dude."

That caught Tian Shen’s interest instantly.

Naturally, he made a beeline for it.

The path to the grove twisted through increasingly unnatural terrain.

The trees bent toward each other like whispering conspirators, and the wind carried a metallic tang.

Birds didn’t sing here. Instead, the occasional rustle or low moan echoed between moss-covered trunks.

Captain Luo had reluctantly joined them, though he grumbled with each step.

"You know, normal cultivators go away from cursed places."

Feng Yin snorted.

"And you’re not a normal cultivator, clearly."

They reached the crypt’s entrance by midday. It was hidden behind a curtain of thorned vines, guarding an arched doorway carved directly into the cliffside.

Blackvine Grove lived up to its name—the plants here pulsed faintly with corrupted Qi.

The arch bore the same sigils as the shrine of the Honoured One—but they were twisted, inverted.

Where the shrine exuded peace and majesty, this crypt radiated despair and hunger.

"This... doesn’t look inviting," Feng Yin muttered.

"Which means we’re on the right track," Tian Shen replied with a grin.

Little Mei pawed at the vines, her fur bristling.

"Kyuu..."

They entered the crypt. A chill air clung to the walls like cobwebs.

Strange murals lined the corridor, painted in a faded pigment that shimmered oddly under torchlight.

They showed titanic beings made of lightning warring against figures cloaked in black mist. One image stood out—a chained flame, surrounded by shattered halos.

At the end of the corridor was a statue. Or what remained of it. Once majestic, it now slumped in ruin, its crown broken and one arm missing.

Tian Shen stepped forward, and the moment his palm brushed the stone—

[Seeker, you have discovered the Forbidden Shrine of the Exiled Flame, prepare!] freewebnσvel.cѳm

An ancient voice, devoid of life, grumbled.

A burst of red light erupted as a spectral figure rose from the statue’s base.

It had no face—only a swirling void—and its limbs ended in jagged lightning claws.

"Another test," Feng Yin hissed, already forming talismans.

"No," Tian Shen said, eyes narrowing. "Not a test. It’s guarding something... or someone."

The spirit struck without hesitation. Electricity crackled as it lashed out.

Captain Luo parried the first blow, grunting as the shock traveled down his arm.

Feng Yin unleashed a barrage of talismans, but the specter seemed to phase through most of them.

"Find its source!"

Tian Shen shouted.

As the others held its attention, he dashed behind the statue.

Hidden behind the broken plinth, a faint glyph pulsed—one forged of cursed fire and bound storm Qi.

He slashed at it with focused spiritual energy.

The spirit screamed.

"There!"

He called.

"The seal!"

With synchronized precision, they targeted it.

Feng Yin’s talismans detonated at the edges while Tian Shen’s blade of Qi pierced the center. And the glyph shattered.

The specter howled one last time before crumbling into glowing ashes. In its place remained a pulsing orb—similar to the relic fragments, but tainted, dark, and trembling with suppressed power.

『Host Acquired: Fragment of the Exiled One’s Memory (Corrupted)』

『Warning: Item unusable until purified.』

Tian Shen held the orb gingerly.

"Feels... wrong."

Feng Yin peered over his shoulder.

"We shouldn’t stay here. This shrine was sealed for a reason."

As they exited, a wind blew from deeper in the island—carrying with it whispers in a tongue none of them understood.

...

Evening.

They returned to the harbor as the sun dipped behind the clouds.

Thunderhead Isle lived up to its name—the sky above cracked with silent lightning, the air dense with storm Qi.

Tian Shen stood at the docks, the corrupted fragment tucked safely in his robes. The map flared to life again, pointing inland.

"It’s time," he said.

"We head for the Central Region."

Captain Luo, ever the realist, had arranged a ship that would take them only as far as Dawnshore—the last port before the wild frontier.

Before boarding, Tian Shen glanced back at the island.

The wind whispered.

The trees groaned.

And deep within the ruins, something stirred—something ancient and watching.

But he turned away.

...

Three Days Later.

Inland terrain rolled out before them. The air was different here. Not as volatile as Thunderhead Isle, but heavier, thicker with unspoken history.

Towering hills gave way to shattered plains, where ancient battles once raged.

The remnants of uncertainty were visible in the twisted landscape—craters overgrown with moss, blackened trees, and the occasional glint of rusted armor.

Tian Shen’s system chimed regularly, harvesting the fruits of his surroundings.

『Host gains Physique points ×50.』

『Host gains Spiritual Qi points ×20.』

『Host gains Charm Points ×50 (source: Feng Yin).』

He blinked at the last message.

"That’s awesome."

He murmured.

Feng Yin, walking beside him, gave him a sidelong glance.

"You’re smiling like a fool."

"Can’t help it," Tian Shen said with a smirk. "Your face is just so beautiful."

She rolled her eyes, but her ears were red, implying otherwise.

"Smooth talker."

Little Mei meeled in his hood.

"Kyuuu~?"

"You too."

...

Their path was rarely peaceful. Spirit beasts prowled the underbrush, and strange herbs glowed under moonlight—some helpful, others violently poisonous. The Central Region’s borderlands were wild, untamed.

By the fourth afternoon, smoke rose ahead. A massive stone gate loomed over a valley pass—flanked by Qilin statues and ancient warding scripts. A caravan had been ambushed.

Masked cultivators in dark robes descended on the wagons, their sleeves marked with a sigil Tian Shen recognized from his system: The Evil Serpent Sect—an underground cult rumored to revere the Exiled Flame.

Tian Shen’s expression darkened.

Feng Yin cracked her knuckles.

"Looks like we don’t get a break."

"Didn’t expect one," Tian Shen said, unsheathing his blade.

"Come on. Let’s make some noise."

Steel clashed before words could.

Tian Shen moved like a blade through wind—his presence slicing through the confusion around the burning caravan.

The masked cultivators barely had time to register him before his blade found one of their cores.

Qi exploded in a flash, sending the masked man tumbling backward in a heap of sparks and blood.

Feng Yin was right behind him, her talismans glowing with runic fire. She flung one into the sky—it burst like a flare, revealing a formation of energy needles that rained down on the attackers from above.

A scream echoed as another Serpent disciple fell, clutching a smoking shoulder.

Captain Luo barreled in like a living battering ram, knocking two men flying with a shoulder charge.

"I knew I should’ve stayed on the ship!"

He yelled—but his grin said otherwise.

Little Mei leapt from Tian Shen’s shoulder, growing mid-air as her spiritual energy surged.

In moments, she was a fox the size of a small bear, her tails sparking with wild lightning.

She pounced onto one of the masked men, crackling energy dancing along her fur as he collapsed with a cry.

Amid the chaos, Tian Shen’s eyes locked onto a robed figure standing on a wagon.

Unlike the others, this one wore a half-mask of black iron and held a staff crowned with a flickering blue flame.

"You’re not one of the grunts," Tian Shen muttered.

"No," the man replied, voice calm despite the turmoil.

"I am Flame Disciple Zhao Lan, bearer of the Third Spark. And you... are a thread of the old curse."

Zhao Lan thrust his staff forward. Flame surged—not ordinary fire, but corrupted spiritual flame that shrieked as it twisted through the air.

Tian Shen raised his sword, Qi igniting along the blade.

"Let’s see who gets burned."