Chapter 9 Henry's Resolve
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Henry's attitude shift took Lawrence completely by surprise—far more dramatic than the old cultivator had expected.
Not that it was unexpected. Henry had survived a decade of office politics back in the 21st century.
In those corporate jungles, loyalties changed faster than the weather. This? This was nothing.
Now he was calling Lawrence "old bro" repeatedly, so naturally you'd never guess there'd been any tension between them.
Even Lawrence—a centuries-old monster who'd seen everything—found himself viewing Henry in a new light.
In the Cultivation World, especially for newcomers, survival came before pride. Only the living got to keep their dignity.
Amused by the thought, Lawrence couldn't resist teasing:
"The rejection force can't be rushed. But kid, you've got more eyes on you than a wanted poster."
Henry didn't even blink. "Let them watch all they want," he said flatly. "Can't shake them off now anyway. But seriously—what the hell is this Soul Passage Coffin?"
So what if Mars had powerful backers? Compared to Her Majesty the Radiant Phoenix Immortal Emperor? Henry couldn't be bothered to care.
After a long silence, Lawrence finally spoke again.
"Listen, boy. I'll tell you everything—what the coffin is, what happened with it. But not today. Understood?"
Henry nodded. "Curiosity killed the cat, huh?"
Lawrence's silence was answer enough.
"So... what's next?"
……
……
"To conquer rejection, you must first embrace it. Know it. Become it."
These were Lawrence's exact words.
"First, we'll reduce the death qi from your Nether Mausoleum Force until this world's cultivation system can tolerate it."
Henry eyed Lawrence's knowing smile with deep suspicion.
Sure enough, the old man's next words nearly made him lose his temper.
"So... heh... I'll be taking those excess Nether Mausoleum Force off your hands. The coffin's hungry anyway."
"Is this old coot pulling my leg on purpose!?"
Henry's suspicious glare made Lawrence bristle like a porcupine, his cheeks flushing with irritation.
"Cut your ol' pal some slack, would ya?"
[Brothers? Yeah right...]
Henry mentally scoffed as Lawrence's tone suddenly turned grave.
"The Nether Mausoleum Force from your Tomb-Burial Sect doesn't belong in this realm—it's a cultivation system from the Wraithrealm of Shattered Souls."
"Here? You're like a stinking brute belly-flopping into a jade pool full of goddesses. The very air qi recoils from your stench."
"Reconciling these warring energies isn't child's play. Buckle up, kid - this is just the first damn hurdle!"
Had Lawrence worn that sleazy smirk, Henry would've bolted. But the old man's solemnity was weirdly reassuring.
"Heh, easy there, old timer. My bad—got the perception of a drunken bat. Forgive this junior, yeah?"
"Just point me where to go next. Not a single complaint, cross my heart!"
Henry launched into his signature whiplash charm, buttering Lawrence up until the old man's temper thawed.
For seven straight days, Lawrence guided the Soul Passage Coffin to drain tendrils of Nether Mausoleum Force from Henry's body—each session no more than what ten tomb offerings might yield.
Yet every time, Henry emerged looking like a half-drowned sewer rat: drenched in sweat, limbs trembling, completely drained.
Not that Henry lacked grit, nor was Lawrence holding back.
The truth? That detour through Rebirth Cave—though the Radiant Phoenix Immortal Emperor hijacked the process—left Henry's body reset to newborn purity, mind intact but cultivation wiped clean.
Six decades of Wraithrealm cultivation? Vaporized in that damned cave's maw.
To make matters worse, accidentally rousing the Soul Passage Coffin had devoured most of the Nether Mausoleum Force Henry had clawed his way back to rebuild. No surprise he was hanging by a thread.
"Boy, this ain't cutting it!" Lawrence growled.
"Old man... we can't keep this up," Henry gasped, voice ragged.
They locked eyes during the break, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them.
"Progress is slower than a dying tortoise!"
"Keep draining me like this, and I'll be a dried-up husk by dawn!"
Another synchronized outburst made Lawrence's brow twitch. "You first," he grunted.
Henry rubbed his temples. The bone-deep exhaustion? Manageable. But this glacial pace? Absolute torture. "There's gotta be a faster way. One-shot deal?"
Lawrence stroked his wispy goatee, eyes narrowing. "There is. But it'll make your current suffering feel like a spa day."
"Remember that thread of Primordial Heaven-Earth Qi? That's your golden ticket to merging these warring energies."
Henry's eyes lit up—having Lawrence in his corner really was worth its weight in gold. He leaned forward as the older man continued, voice like gravel:
"True Essence is life's fire. Netherforce is death's rot. Your Nether Mausoleum Force? Stuck in between like a ghost that won't move on."
"Only Primordial Qi can force these opposites to play nice..."
Lawrence droned on for what felt like ages before wrapping up:
"When you first absorbed that Primordial wisp, even inside the Coffin, the Rebirth Cave rebooted your body like a newborn's. Meanwhile, the Spirit-Evolving Millstone turned you into a damn lightning rod for spiritual energy."
"Now your body amplifies every energy wave—like a tuning fork in a thunderstorm."
"We'll use the Coffin to scrape your Nether Force down to the last dregs."
"Your only shot? Jumpstart that dormant Primordial Qi inside you."
"From the void's birth to creation's spark, where light and shadow merge, the Primordial Heaven-Earth endures."
"This essence is the purest energy between heaven and earth—to it, Nether Mausoleum Force and True Essence are one and the same."
"Awaken that strand of Primordial Heaven-Earth Qi, and it'll fuse both powers into something entirely new."
Lawrence locked eyes with Henry across dimensional barriers, his expression grave as mountain stone.
"I can only light the path."
"The true crossing—you must walk alone."
His voice took on a blade's edge:
"Fail, and every wisp of spiritual energy will recoil from you like plague. You'll be less than an outcast—a ghost in your own skin."
"Henry. Are you ready to stake your soul on this?"
Lawrence's face darkened as he released a sigh heavy with centuries.
"We were meant to break through Rebirth Cave together. My reborn flesh severing old karma, while you shed that half-dead curse of the Tomb-Burial Sect."
"That was the pact I forged with the last Coffin-Bearer."
"Yet destiny wove you into that cavern instead..."
Silence hung between them. Henry knew the rest.
The Coffin-Bearers had faded into the void without trace, leaving their inheritance in Henry's hands—yet the message never reached Lawrence.
Then the Radiant Phoenix Immortal Emperor intervened, her will shattering Lawrence's designs like glass beneath a warhammer.
This wasn't merely dangerous.
It was gambling with his very existence.
- Writer
