10,000x Cultivation: I Gain Power by Adopting Training Acolytes

The trio pressed deeper into the cavern's maw, where fading light surrendered to oppressive shadows. Sinister hisses slithered through cracks in the stone, mingling with shrill rodent squeaks that multiplied with every step. The air grew dense, clinging to their lungs like wet cloth. Zhang Yun's expression remained as calm as still water, though his disciples betrayed their unease. Behind him, Xu Ming's jaw tightened with suppressed tension, while Wu Xiaopang's round face glistened with cold sweat.

"M-Master," the plump disciple stammered, knees trembling so violently his robes quivered, "this place reeks of death. Shouldn't we… turn back?"

Zhang Yun paused, the flick of his wrist summoning a torch from his spatial ring. Golden flame erupted, casting jagged shadows across the damp walls. "A cultivator's path is paved with darkness," he chided, though his tone softened as Wu Xiaopang's panicked breathing steadied. "Stay close."

Their boots crunched over loose shale as they advanced. Three paces later, the cavern erupted.

Skitter-skitter-SKREE!

Dozens of fist-sized holes yawned open beneath their feet. From the void surged a tide of inky-furred rats—Dark Spirit Rats, their needle-like incisors glinting crimson in the torchlight. Zhang Yun's boot slammed down before the first creature could leap.

​"Purge."​​

A shockwave of azure qi rippled outward. Six rats disintegrated mid-leap, their remains painting the walls in gruesome Rorschachs. Xu Ming's blade became a silver blur, severing rodent spines with clinical precision, while Wu Xiaopang's clumsy swings gradually found rhythm, his initial panic hardening into grim determination.

Two minutes later, the chamber lay silent save for the drip of viscid fluids. Zhang Yun studied the riddled floor. "Nesting tunnels," he observed, toeing a gaping burrow. "A colony likely numbers in the hundreds here."

Xu Ming wiped his blade on a rat's pelt, nose wrinkling at the musky stench. "No one would harvest these. Their flesh reeks worse than a beggar's socks after monsoon season."

"Yet you'd know this how, Junior Brother?" Wu Xiaopang quipped, though his jest faltered as another tremor shook the cavern.

Zhang Yun's hand shot up in warning. The ground beneath them undulated like living flesh. From the darkness behind came a roar swelling to deafening crescendo—a black tsunami of fur and teeth flooded the tunnel, countless scarlet eyes blazing with mindless hunger.

"RAT TIDE!" Xu Ming's scream cracked mid-shout.

Zhang Yun moved before the final syllable faded. His arms hooked around both disciples' waists as qinggong infused his soles with jade light. The flying sword shrieked through fetid air, its master's normally impeccable posture bent forward like a hunting hawk. Behind them, the ravenous horde devoured distance with terrifying speed.

Hope died as they rounded a bend. Before them stretched another seething wall of rodents.

"They've surrounded us!" Wu Xiaopang wailed, fingers digging into Zhang Yun's arm hard enough to bruise.

"Eyes open!" Zhang Yun barked, scanning their prison of stone and teeth. His gaze locked onto the trembling floor. "Hold tight!"

Golden energy coalesced around his fist—a miniature sun blooming in the gloom. The punch struck earth with meteoric force.

CRACK-BOOM!

The cavern screamed in protest. Webs of fissures raced outward, swallowing swaths of the rodent tide. Zhang Yun kicked off collapsing stone, sword screeching upward—

—straight into the maw of oblivion.

The shattered floor yawned open, revealing an abyssal throat that inhaled with vacuum force. Zhang Yun's muscles corded like steel cables, veins bulging as he fought the pull. Inch by terrible inch, the void dragged them downward until, with a roar of frustration, he surrendered to gravity's hunger.

***​

Cold water slapped consciousness into them. Zhang Yun breached the inky lake's surface, arms hooked under his disciples' limp forms. Before them stretched an impossible vista—a subterranean plaza bathed in the sickly glow of wall-mounted luminous pearls. At its far end, a weathered stele guarded a gaping tunnel mouth.

"We've fallen into… an ancient tomb?" Xu Ming croaked, spewing lake water as Zhang Yun's qi-infused palm struck his sternum.

Wu Xiaopang retched over ornate tiles. "Those rats… chewing sounds… in my dreams now…"

Zhang Yun ignored their chatter, eyes narrowing at the stele's inscription: To Those Whom Fate Delivers Here – Enter and Claim Thy Inheritance.

"Master," Xu Ming breathed, awe cutting through his daze, "this must be a legacy ground! Perhaps left by some fallen Nascent Soul expert!"

The torchlight quivered as Zhang Yun approached the dark portal. "Then let us see," he murmured, "what trials await the 'fated ones.'"