《10k Years Silent Cultivation》Carrying Bricks

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A great plain stretched out of sight.

It encompassed the whole of creation.

An indistinct light floated around watching over Gary.

"It walks upon the grass, and looks to the sky. It wonders of its worries, its wealth, its whimsy."

The grass made a soft crunching noise, as Gary slowly approached the table that was just sitting there out in the open.

"It takes the cup from the table and swallows ambrosia."

Black vomit covered the grass. Creation was covered in vomit.

"It's bitter. It lacks flavor. It always does."

Gary rips out the grass, and shoves dirt in his mouth.

"Now that will surely satisfy it."

Gary wakes up in the room that was provided for him. He had a strange dream, but didn't have time to reflect on it. If he was going to be stuck in this little village he needed to make himself useful. As he was now he could at most haul things back and forth. He was sure to enjoy his time laboring physically, but did not want it to be the rest of his newfound lifespan. His ambition demanded that of him.

He meditated, and attempted to cultivate.

He couldn't.

The mana in the air avoided him like the plague. He couldn't even replenish his reserves. He would have to rely on the bits, and pieces his soul produced for him.

Gary had been cut off from cultivation. He'd been rejected by the heavens. As always, those above cannot allow anything that is even remotely a threat to exist.

He made his way to the force field protecting the village. There was a whole camp of void tunnelers waiting for him out there. Once or twice they would poke at the barrier to no avail.

He was safe for now, but there was no telling how long that would last.

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He went and asked the creepy old man what he could do to help out. With his cultivation stagnating at the Young Master realm, and no money to his name, as he'd left everything but the True Self stage skill book, and smut trilogy, back on subardos, he would need to find some way to feed himself. He couldn't depend on charity forever, as their patience would likely wear thin.

Gary was right. He really was only good for hauling things back and forth.

He was assigned to help carry bricks around for the village. They'd faced a recent influx of refugees, and needed to build more homes. The surrounding void tunnelers had apparently rendered most of the region inhospitable.

Gary had returned to his lackluster, lowly life. Right where he belongs.

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