Day 1 of the Ninth Month, Year 347 of the Azure Phoenix Dynasty


    The audacity! Those blithering fools in the excavation team actually managed to stir something up. I specifically instructed them to be meticulous, to leave anything unusual undisturbed. But no, they had to go and poke the hornet''s nest. The reports came in an hour ago - an energy surge from the old ruins below the city. Some kind of… existence… awakened. And now I, yes I, have to fix their mess.


    The others are already panicking, of course. Elder Zhao is frantically scribbling formations, Elder Mei keeps muttering about sacred wards, and Elder Yu is sharpening his swords like it''ll solve the problem. Pathetic. I, on the other hand, have been preparing for this scenario for years.


    This city, this backwater hovel, has been good to me. A steady stream of resources, a place to refine my pills in peace. And I intend to keep it that way. I''ve already tasked my most trusted cultivators to infiltrate the surrounding sects and steal those ancient pill recipes. My supply must be robust. These "elders" are too busy protecting, they don''t know how to profit.


    Day 3 of the Ninth Month, Year 347


    We set out at dawn. Five of us, a motley group indeed. They call me the ''Mad Alchemist'', and rightfully so. I don''t rely on flashy techniques, but on the refined power within my pills. Zhao with his cumbersome defensive formations, Mei with her ethereal spirit weaving, and Yu with his aggressive sword style. Then there’s Elder Fan with his bloodline ability to manipulate life force. A strange group.


    We descended into the ruins, the air thick with a foul miasma. The entity, if it can be called that, was… unsettling. A swirling mass of shadow and spite, laced with whispers that drilled into the very core of one''s being. This is not some rogue cultivator gone mad. This is older, darker.


    The fighting was… brutal. The entity seemed to feed on our energy, growing stronger with every attack. Zhao''s formations were ripped apart like paper, Mei’s spirit weaving was twisted into ghoulish shapes and Yu was forced into a retreat. I watched them. Fools, they are wasting their power, relying to much on those tricks. I, however, had planned for this. I opened my storage ring without hesitation.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Day 4 of the Ninth Month, Year 347


    A life and death dance. The monster was upon us within moments, a howling vortex of rage. I didn''t flinch. I popped pills like they were candy, each one costing thousands of spirit stones – Qi-Boosting Elixirs to fortify my meridians, Vitality Restorers to mend shattered bones, Spirit Fortification Pills to bolster my mental defenses. The others watched with wide eyes, probably thinking I was insane. But I saw the shift, the subtle surge of power with each pill digested.


    Zhao finally managed to erect a barely holding defensive formation, a shimmering barrier that bought us precious seconds. Yu, bruised and battered, launched himself forward, his swords carving fleeting arcs of light in the darkness. Mei was using her spirit weaving to try and bind the entity. Fan was using his ability to pull life force from it, but the entity was too large, his ability unable to drain it quick enough. It was chaotic.


    My pills were giving me the edge. But I knew, even with them, it was a losing battle. So I used something else, as well. A single spirit bomb I had prepared as a last resort. In that moment, I knew I was relying on the rest, buying me time to concentrate.


    Day 5 of the Ninth Month, Year 347


    We sealed it. Finally. Zhao''s final formation, enhanced by Mei''s spirit weaving and Fan draining its energy and my Spirit Bomb detonating before it, managed to trap the entity in a prison of pure energy. It was a desperate effort, draining each of us to our limit.


    I''m exhausted, my meridians feel like they''ve been scraped raw. My storage ring is drastically lighter, my hoard of pills depleted by this one battle. I spent a fortune and I almost didn''t win. Is this worth it?


    And yet… as I look at the sealed prison, an unsettling thought festers. What if it breaks free? What other horrors lurk beneath this city that I''ve called my own? Is staying here worth the risk?


    I''ve already harvested most of the city''s wealth, refined its most potent resources. There''s little left for me here. It''s time to move on. This place has outlived its usefulness. It’s time to find a new source, a new place to grow. My knowledge, my skills, they demand a more fertile ground. This small city cannot hold my talent.


    Tomorrow, I leave. Let the others rebuild and stew in their fears. I''ve survived this, and I will continue to survive. Onward, towards greater power.