Chapter 101: A Misstep Leads to Imprisonment

Before them stretched an immense illusion array, concealing the entire Heavenly Court.

The three circled the formation once, stopping at the southern side. The "South Heavenly Gate" was one of the four principal gates of the Heavenly Court. In former times, immortals typically entered and exited through here, so the flow of people was frequent and security likely lax—approaching from this direction should be easier.

The outer layer of the illusion array served only to conceal the Court’s presence, preventing unwanted visitors from wandering in by mistake. It bore no defensive or offensive properties and was as insubstantial as air. The trio passed through with ease.

Once inside the array’s boundary, the temperature rose noticeably and the air currents stabilized. The emptiness before them gave way to a vast sea of rolling clouds, endlessly surging and obscuring the path ahead.

They floated forward nearly five thousand meters until a cloud platform appeared, atop which stood a lustrous strange stone inscribed with golden celestial script: "Cloud Dissolution Platform." Beneath the inscription was a row of smaller characters.

Lo Yu craned his neck to peer ahead. “There’s a formation fluctuation up ahead. Let’s check out the platform first.”

Qin Yue and Luo Li nodded, lightly gliding up onto the cloud platform.

The platform was neither metal nor jade, paved with square tiles, each adorned with unique patterns—divine birds and exotic beasts, elements of water, fire, mountains, and trees, figures of people, and some mysterious symbols—all exquisitely crafted, unlike anything from millennia past.

Lo Yu leaned in to examine the small inscription on the stone. After a moment’s thought, he summarized: flying was prohibited here. On the platform stood a white jade arch bridge, broad as an eight-lane highway with no railings. Judging from its curve, it stretched about a thousand meters, but only half was visible—the other half shrouded in mist.

Lo Yu approached the bridgehead to study the formation fluctuations. Soon he deduced that a no-fly formation was in place here. It didn’t attack but prevented hovering or flying above the ground. Such formations were troublesome; even winged beings had to keep their feet firmly on the bridge. When the array detected a living presence airborne, it exerted immense pressure to force them down or immobilize them.

The three conferred and, unwilling to waste time, decided to cross the bridge obediently on foot.

They proceeded along the jade bridge into the misty section and halted.

Qin Yue studied the surroundings and frowned. “There’s no formation here, but the clouds are strange. Perhaps some illusion effect replaces the array.”

Lo Yu peered over the bridge’s edge and observed no protective measures below. Through the thin cloud layer, the ground was clearly visible. He nodded and agreed, “This is similar to Kunlun Mist, but this ‘spiritual cloud’ is even more advanced. The Heavenly Court is truly wealthy... Yet the method is cruel—if someone falls from tens of thousands of meters, even immortals would perish.”

Luo Li’s expression was serious. “The Court must issue some kind of pass that can clear the clouds, like swiping a card to enter.”

Lo Yu replied, “But we can’t find such a pass. How about we try burning it? Refining this cloud could be valuable!”

Luo Li, still looking like a little adult, said, “Burning the cloud—wouldn’t that trigger some formation?”

Qin Yue answered, “There’s no formation trace in these nearby clouds; burning some should be safe.” She then exhaled a fierce golden flame toward the spiritual clouds. The previously gentle mist suddenly churned wildly, deftly avoiding the Yang Pole True Fire, opening a clear path.

Lo Yu muttered in surprise, “Oh? It’s cooperative!”

Luo Li brightened. “They really fear true fire! Let’s catch some!” She unleashed her own golden flame, shaped like a kitten, chasing the clouds. The flame was the Yang Pole True Fire Qin Yue had shared.

Lo Yu ignored the two and went to check the other half of the jade bridge. Confirming nothing unusual, he beckoned the others and cautiously advanced. Qin Yue and Luo Li followed closely, continuously clearing the path with true fire. The spiritual clouds were extremely sensitive, impervious to the flames, and attempts to capture any failed. After the trio passed, the clouds slowly reconvened, concealing their path.

They soon reached the bridge’s end—another cloud platform. This one had no bridge leading further in, but on it stood several enormous celestial cranes, motionless, alongside four armored warriors clad in golden armor, wielding swords, spears, and halberds.

From afar, the three were startled by the figures but quickly recovered: these were not real cultivators but lifelike puppets glaring at them with fierce eyes.

Lo Yu stood at the bridgehead analyzing the array. This platform was guarded by a prohibitive magic formation.

They all knew well the power of such formations—as seen in the Tyrant Weapon Shop. Anyone entering would have their spiritual energy sealed, unable to cast any spells, leaving their very lives at the mercy of others. Given the Court’s might, these no-fly and prohibitive magic arrays were surely designed to repel intruders. The celestial cranes were likely the internal transport, exempt from the effects.

A dilemma arose: as illegal intruders, stepping onto this platform without proper credentials would provoke attacks from the puppets. The platform bore scars from weapons—evidence of previous forced entries—but the golden-armored warriors were pristine, clearly formidable. The Court’s ancient masters had crafted countless puppets of great power; these were no mere handful of cultivators’ match, especially with magic prohibited here.

The trio exchanged glances. Luo Li pouted, “Let’s break the formation. We’ll sneak past quietly; I don’t want to fight those ugly things.”

Qin Yue pondered briefly. “Then we return to dismantle the no-fly array first. These puppets must protect the prohibitive formation. Only after disabling the no-fly can we find another way to break the prohibitive magic.”

Lo Yu sighed, “No choice but to try that.”

They retraced their steps to the first cloud platform and began deconstructing the no-fly array.

Lo Yu studied the formation runes. Although set by ancient powerful cultivators, the array’s maker’s skill was far inferior to that of the Overturning Heaven Palace’s archaic formations. What surprised Lo Yu was the presence of another set of runes—unfamiliar symbols unlike any modern formation script—a completely different language.

His heart quickened: indeed, someone had created an alternative language to communicate with the heavens! The key to inventing a language is...

He scrutinized the strange runes, which appeared sparingly, only in a few places, seemingly incomplete. Analyzing the array felt like listening to Luo Li or Lan Peisi speaking—mostly comprehensible but occasionally interspersed with unintelligible words.

Unable to understand their meaning directly, Lo Yu inferred their function by context—a risky venture, as a misstep might trigger unknown reactions. Fortunately, these runes were scarce and repeated several times, making their purpose easier to guess. Lo Yu proceeded cautiously, pausing frequently to observe for chain reactions. Whether by luck or skill, he avoided triggering any traps.

After three hours of painstaking effort, he reached a critical point featuring a hidden rune phrase—the same one had appeared before as a “transition,” supposedly harmless. Lo Yu bypassed it easily and soon dismantled the no-fly array.

Just as he prepared to announce success, a flicker of unease caught his eye: that “transition” rune had triggered a hidden internal inscription!

Alarmed, Lo Yu’s mind flashed: they’d been tricked! The phrase was not a mere transition but concealed a formidable trap.

He shouted, “Danger! Dodge! It’s a trap!” and grabbed Qin Yue and Luo Li, fleeing immediately.

Despite their speed, they couldn’t outrun the rune’s reaction. Beneath their feet, an eerie rustling sounded. After sprinting a couple of thousand meters, a fierce wind swept toward them, sending the cloud sea into a violent upheaval, revealing broad plazas—previously invisible and empty lands, now fully revealed within the illusion.

The wind was so fierce that even their Golden Core-level cultivation could not withstand it; like falling leaves, they were blown apart despite holding hands tightly.

Luo Li felt the world spin violently before being slammed to the ground, tumbling several times before coming to rest. Opening her eyes, she found herself on a small plaza about a hundred meters across, surrounded by thick fog that obscured any exit and blocked even spiritual perception.

As she stood, a ripple of formation energy emanated from the ground tiles. Each tile bore a circular protrusion glowing with pale green light, inside which something writhed. Before she could focus, the writhing forms broke through and emerged—tiny wooden vines.

“Hostile spiritual wood?” Luo Li murmured. “Are these seeds of spirit vines sealed in the tiles?”

The vines burst from their seed casings, growing rapidly to the thickness of arms and entwining around Luo Li. They came in many varieties—thorny, blade-like leaves, verdant green, purple-black—interlacing into an impenetrable net of vines, fierce and overwhelming.

Luo Li’s expression grew serious. She raised a small golden scepter in her palm.

“Five-colored spiritual light!” A clear, charming voice echoed in the plaza as the scepter blazed with radiant five-colored light like dawn illuminating every corner. Some vines scorched and self-ignited into ash; others hesitated, resisting; some quivered their leaves joyfully, blooming flowers—seeming even stronger.

Luo Li smirked, “Light attacks actually empower some spiritual wood! I used the wrong method—I should have burned them!”

She nimbly dodged the vines’ grasp. The light broke open several gaps in the once seamless vine net, and Luo Li slipped through, turning to spray true fire on the pursuing vines. Fire was indeed the ultimate weapon against wood. As she retreated, she burned most of the vines, leaving the plaza filled with smoke and charred remains—like a disaster scene.

After clearing the vines, she waited. No more sprouts appeared. Pondering her next move, wondering how to find her brothers and what this place truly was, Luo Li cautiously approached the fog’s edge.

She stopped and took a black bead from her necklace, tossing it to the ground. It transformed into a clumsy zombie.

Luo Li gestured toward the fog. The zombie groaned and obediently entered.

After a long wait with no sign of movement or the zombie’s return, Luo Li frowned. The zombie’s master was also a zombie; it only shared mental links with its superior. She had no way to know if it had met misfortune. This place was strange—attacking only once before ceasing, unlike ordinary arrays that launched continuous assaults. She guessed this was not purely a rune-driven formation but one utilizing other means, like spiritual wood.

Given time, the only attack here was the spiritual wood. This felt less like a typical formation and more like a mechanical trap. The rune inscriptions were hidden, auxiliary triggers for the mechanisms—designed to confound formation experts and deny them any loopholes.

Luo Li formed suspicions. Staying still meant eternal entrapment. Even mechanisms had flaws and patterns; she would have to find them.

With renewed resolve, she wrinkled her nose and declared, “The Goddess of Light fears nothing!” She summoned her power to shield herself and cautiously stepped into the fog.

After advancing several dozen meters, the dense mist suddenly receded, revealing another plaza similar to before. She stood at its center beneath the lingering fog. A surge of formation energy caused golden, glistening thorns to emerge from the tiles, rapidly spreading to cover every corner.

Luo Li carefully dodged the thorns while setting them aflame. The Yang Pole True Fire reduced them to golden liquid metal that flowed over the ground. After the fire passed, the metal coagulated into a solid layer.

“Metal? Is this stage about metal attacks?” she murmured. With no foothold, she summoned Kunlun Mist beneath her feet.

Suddenly, a muffled rumble overhead caught her attention. Looking up, the clouds had dropped low and blackened, suffused with suffocating pressure. Blood-red flashes flickered within—familiar as the Trial Lightning during tribulation.

Though similar to tribulation lightning, this law lightning was different—its power was set by a great cultivator and far less predictable.

Frightened, Luo Li fled, but the lightning formed swiftly. Before the thunderclap reached her, a blood-red bolt silently shot toward her. Quick as lightning, Luo Li hurled a black bead at the bolt and dodged sideways just as thunder and zombie wails erupted. The dozen or so zombies rivaling Golden Core strength vanished without a trace before even smoking. The law lightning was delayed and grazed the metallic thorns instead.

Luo Li barely had time to breathe when the lightning strike turned the metallic thorns into molten gold splatter, spraying shards of hot liquid electrically charged by the law lightning. She was struck by several droplets—scorching and painful, she screamed, barely maintaining human form atop Kunlun Mist. Losing control, she began to fall. Falling to the ground meant certain death; several lightning bolts were still striking the surface, electrifying the thorns.

Biting her lip, Luo Li abandoned Kunlun Mist, summoning all her strength to leap and roll back into the fog.

Thus ends Chapter 101 of The Cultivator’s Tale: The Friend’s Journey.