THREE HUNDRED THIRTY THREE YEARS AGO

Hong Ma of the elemental village had had it all. Kings bowed before her beauty, mystics flocked to hear her teachings, and despite being less than a century old, she had accomplished more than many dared dream of.

Yet, she was not satisfied.

For, despite all her power, despite her mountains of riches and status as a peerless beauty, there was one thing she could not prevent. It didn’t matter how she tried to prevent it —under the constant beating of time, the body would break. Skin would wrinkle, hair would grey, and bones would brittle, until she was left as little more than a husk of her former self.

But not if she were an Immortal.

As a Saint, she would be young forever, always sprightly and charming, as she was meant to be. And she was meant to be. No other mystic could have reached the peak of the Third Circle in so little time. No other mystic held her extraordinary talent with fire mana. And no other mystic had her determination.

The process was only seen in myths and legend, but she would rediscover it. With a mountain of pills and elixirs by her side, she would singlehandedly push the known boundaries of cultivation.

She would become an immortal, even if it took a decade to achieve.

She stepped into a secluded cave, gingerly gripping an ornate ruby amulet and once again reading the attached note.

My dear, I made this especially for you. I know that it may take you years to ascend, and I couldn’t bear to leave you all alone. This amulet will connect to your lifeforce so that if one of us passes, the ruby’s color will drain. I have a similar one, so in a sense we’ll always be carrying a piece of each other with us. Good luck, my love. I know you’ll be back in no time.

With her husband by her side, how could she fail?

* * *

THREE HUNDRED TWENTY THREE YEARS AGO

Hong Ma stormed from her Immortal’s cave, screaming in a fit of frustration. An entire decade of secluded meditation, and not an ounce of progress towards Sainthood. She clenched her fists, snorting a puff of white-hot fire. This was absurd! A shroud of flame enveloped her, and she struck the face of the mountain, sending a web of jagged cracks through the stone.

She took a deep breath, shaking her head. That was no good. Every technique she performed was yet another drop of mana wasted. She held up a glass, but despite her age, she looked as youthful as ever. Good. The Harmonization stage was showing its benefits.

She turned to go back in, but something flashed in the corner of her eye. A jade slip, wrapped in expensive crimson silk. It must have come while she was cultivating. She pushed the slightest amount of mana into it, letting the words wash over her.

From Elemental Village:

My dear Ma,

How are you? I know that you’ve spent the last few years in secluded meditation, but I was wondering whether you would like to go to the world festival with me next year. It must be horribly boring, sitting up there and cultivating for years, so I thought I’d treat you to the show.

Here in the village, things have been going pretty slow. I’ve reached the peak of the Second Circle, but as you know, cultivation has never been my greatest priority. I’ve been more focused on helping the village with finances. The farms have been declining in production, but that is to be expected now that we lost our nature-aspected mystic.

Anyways, I had just wanted to write to you while you were in secluded meditation. I’ve told the messenger not to disturb you, but you know how they are — I apologise if he woke you up.

As always, I anticipate the next time we will get to see each other.

Yours, now and always,

Huang Ba.

She checked the date. Five years ago. Had it really been that long? She took a hesitant step back outside, but stopped herself with a harrumph. The ruby was still shimmering brightly around her neck, meaning he was perfectly fine. Immortality came first — everything else could wait until after she was guaranteed eternal youth.

* * *

TWO HUNDRED NINETY EIGHT YEARS AGO

Hong Ma opened her eyes, swallowing the last of her pills with a huff. A quarter century of cultivation. Twenty five miserable years, and she hadn’t come close to starting the ascension process. The pill instantly dissolved, but the meagre amount of mana barely even registered to her overloaded core. This wasn’t working!

She stood, going outside to breathe in the fresh mountain air. Fresher air was supposed to maintain youth, after all. She paused, thinking. Maybe she should have moved her meditation spot closer to the entrance.

On the ground laid another jade slip, its intricate bindings worn away by time, and she activated it.

From Elemental Village:

My dear Ma,

I haven’t heard from you in years, and I’m beginning to worry.

I know that you are on a search for Immortality, but I’m just a simple blacksmith. I doubt I’ll make it past the Second Circle, and age is already starting to take hold on me. I wish to spend at least a few more years with you, my love. Even with the amulet, you just seem so distant.

Please come back, if only for a few days.

Yours, now and always,

Huang Ba.

Nine years ago. She sighed, bringing up her glass. Age was taking its hold. In a few more decades, youth would leave her forever, and she’d be unable to regain it. And she was so close…

She clenched the pendant, reaching into her store of elixirs.

Just a couple more years.

* * *

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY NINE YEARS AGO

“Are you there, my dear? I’ve actually done it!”

Hong Ma cracked open a bloodshot eye, her aura instantly flaring at the threat. Someone dared to interrupt her, while she was this close to a breakthrough? She prepared a hundred deadly techniques, but instead of a foolish attacker, her husband stood across from her, looking just as spritely as the day she last saw him.

She slumped, and he rushed to her, taking her hand.

“I’ve reached the Third Circle! I was so worried that I’d pass without being able to spend more time with you, but now we have another century to be together! Now come, I have missed you so much. The amulets tells me that you’re fine, but you haven’t responded to any of my letters, or any of the jade slips. Immortality can wait…”

She shook her head. “Dear… Immortality cannot wait. Congratulations on your ascension, but I must continue my meditation.”

“Please, you’re growing obsessed. There’s so much more to life than just chasing meaningless goals, Ma!”

He tugged at her, but she growled, stepping away. “No. I am this close to ascension! You… you don’t understand! My youth is already slipping, and I must reach Sainthood before then! You can wait a couple more years, but this will not!”

“Ma, you look just as beautiful as you always have. Please, just come back…”

She ripped the amulet off her neck, throwing it to the ground. “I am done! If you cannot bear knowing that I am ignoring your messages, from here on in I shall be dead to you. Instead of hopelessly moping around waiting for me, why don’t you make yourself useful and deliver me cultivation resources?”

His own amulet dimmed, and he stared at her, tears at the corners of his eyes. “I… alright. I will assist you in every way I can.”

He stepped out of the cave, and she instantly sat back down, swallowing a handful of stolen pills.

She was running out of time.

* * *

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY TWO YEARS AGO

Hong Ma looked into her glass, burning away the gray hair that dared threaten her pristine look. Her face was now heavily caked in powder, a desperate attempt to hide the wrinkles that were beginning to take shape around her forehead.

Had it really been another eighty years? It had all passed by so quickly.

Huang Ba of Elemental Village. Cause of death: slaughtered after a dispute over a set of rare pills. May his spirit find its way.

The plaque taunted her from across the cave, but she would shed no makeup-staining tears. Right now, she needed to do something drastic.

* * *

TWO HUNDRED THIRTY THREE YEARS AGO

“Please, honored Saint! Help this humble mystic to ascend to your level, and she shall forever be in your debt!”

Hong Ma prostrated herself before the Saint of Shining Suns, desperation leaking into her voice as she spoke. “I have spent a hundred years attempting to find the secret to Sainthood, and all I have achieved is a hundred more years in age. I beseech you, just aid me this one time, and for one thousand years I will do whatever you say of me.”

The Saint snorted, releasing a glow of near-blinding light. “And why exactly do you wish to be an Immortal?”

“Please, honored Saint, I was once a peerless beauty. With your help, I could return to my previous state!”

Her intricate mask of powder and oil dissolved, washed away by a stream of tears.

“Trifling Third Circle mystic, do you know how many of your kind ask me for this aid every century?” The man crossed his arms, looking down upon her with gold-tinted eyes. “And yet you still have the arrogance to give such shallow reasons for becoming a Saint. If you truly wish to become an Immortal, you must take a look at those better connected to your aspect. Now go, I have better things to deal with than your whining.”

She stood, shaking with indignity. “I reached the peak of the Third Circle in under a century! If you simply allowed me the chance, I would double the strength of your nation, and yet you dismiss me as a trifling child?”

She threw herself at the Saint with a furious lunge, but a second later she realized her mistake. No matter how much of a prodigy, a mortal could never challenge a Saint. In an instant, she was flung across the room, a charred hole in the center of her robes.

“Leave, brat.”

The gap between worlds opened behind her, and she was shoved in, helpless to counteract the furious currents of the void.

No matter how, she needed to reach Sainthood. What was it that he had said? To look at those better connected with her aspect?

She seethed. That old geezer had said that she didn’t have the sufficient latent talent. She would show him. She would show them all her potential! She forced her spirit into action, propelling herself against the crashing wall of flowing darkness.

* * *

TWO HUNDRED FOURTEEN YEARS AGO

It had been one hundred nineteen years since Hong Ma had first reached the peak of Harmonization, and she stood in a pile of burnt corpses, her hair wild and her robes in tatters. She had gained yet another unpleasant blemish on her once-pristine skin, but she was confident the ascension to Saint would heal that, along with the growing signs of her age. And in her hand, she held her secret to it.

The Foundation-Stealing Ritual.