Mythic Spirit Tower
Li Mu traversed to another world, crossing into a realm of cultivation where he became a mining slave. Accompanying him on this journey was a spirit tower. Yet, the very fabric of this world had also
The mine tunnel was dark and soaked, everywhere riddled with bogs of varying size.
In the marsh, many people stooped waist-deep, their backs bent as they searched for ore.
“What are you staring at, get to work!”
A harsh, barbed whip lashed heavily across Li Mu’s back.
Pain stabbed through him; his body trembled violently. He hurriedly returned to digging, his heart still thudding wildly. The bloody scene on his back seemed to hang before his eyes.
The voice behind them continued shouting, “Stay in line! Anyone who dares to slack off or tries to escape will meet the same fate!”
Crack!
The whip snapped again and again through the damp air.
The overseer’s voice rang out, “The rules are the same as always. Whoever finds a Colorstone or digs up a batch of Five-Colored Clay, you’ll be set free and even get an Immortal Cultivation Technique! Anyone who doesn’t—will die!”
As the whip fell slowly once more, it raised a body covered in welts, dragging a long trail of blood through the mire straight toward the cave’s entrance.
The slave cultivators, heads bowed, heard the footsteps grow distant before they dared speak in hushed tones.
“So Wang Er’s gone, just like that.”
“He was urging everyone to work hard yesterday—maybe one or two could escape, he said. And today…”
“You dare talk about it? Get back to work! Fill your bowl quickly, and you’ll suffer less.”
The voices faded. Everyone stood in the muddy water, heads down, silently laboring.
They were searching for a rare ore: the Colorstone. Hid