All Chapters of The Cultivator's Revenge: Chapter 221 - Chapter 230

He continued his search, now more meticulous. He found faint footprints near a stone wall, almost erased by the wind. The prints were small, leaving no deep pressure, showing that their owner moved lightly.Then, on the wall of a half-collapsed building, he saw it, a simple protection symbol drawn with charcoal. Not a complex rune formation, just an old spiral commonly used by wandering travelers to ward off low-level beasts.All these traces were confusing. They indicated someone who did not want to be found, someone who lived in simplicity and silence. It was a stark contrast to the image of a powerful guardian of a legendary artifact.There should have been grand defensive formations, oppressive auras of power. But all he found were the traces of a humble survivor. The peaceful, non-aggressive nature of the signs only confused him further.“This makes no sense,” he murmured to himself. “If the ‘Flame of Life’ is that powerful, why would its guardian hide like this?”“Is this a trap

“I will find you,” Rayden hissed, his gaze sharp.The warm aura of life now felt like a beacon, an invisible lighthouse in the middle of a sea of sand. He no longer had to grope in the dark. He had direction.The aura guided him through collapsed corridors and ruined buildings, back toward the main square of Zha'mar, where he had found the small green sprout.But this time, he didn’t stop there. His instincts pulled him to the very edge of the square, toward a large stone wall that looked utterly ordinary. The wall towered high, its surface weathered and cracked, looking no different from the thousands of other stones in this dead city. But as he approached, his sharp spicerermony senses detected something wrong.The air in front of the wall trembled. There was distortion, an illusionary concealment woven so skillfully it almost blended with the desert heat. The formation was so strong, so ancient, that Rayden knew forcing his way through it would only end in death.He didn’t try to f

The man looked at Rayden, his weary eyes filled with disbelief and overwhelming love, an ocean of emotions that had been buried for a decade. “Rayden?” he whispered, his voice hoarse as if he had just learned to speak again after a long silence. “Is that really you, son?”Rayden’s world stopped spinning.All the strength holding his body up, all the walls of ice he had built around his soul, shattered instantly. The sword in his hand suddenly felt so heavy he could barely hold it.That voice… that face… those eyes…The ghost he had tried to bury, the ghost that had given him strength, was now sitting in front of him, real and breathing.“F-father?” Rayden replied, his voice strangled, the word unfamiliar yet so true on his tongue. It wasn’t a question. It was a confession that tore him open.The man, his father, Arion Duskar, struggled to stand, his stiff legs trembling. He staggered forward, his hand reaching out as if afraid his son was nothing more than a mirage that would vanish

Arion Duskar looked at his son, the turbulence of fear in his eyes slowly fading, replaced by a cold glint of calculation. His fear as a father realizing the danger threatening his child was now pushed deep within. That feeling was overridden by the instincts of a survivor who had lived in the shadow of death for ten years. He no longer saw only his son.“We cannot face him directly,” Arion said, his voice now steady, no longer trembling. “Not now. Lucen Dorne’s power, after ten years perfecting his ceremony, is already on a level we cannot imagine. Facing him now is the same as suicide.”He turned and walked toward a niche in the temple wall hidden behind an old tapestry. “While hiding here,” he continued as he pulled out an ancient book filled with writings, its surface covered in carvings that were nearly unreadable, “I found something. A forgotten legend, a story considered a fairy tale even by the historians of Zha'mar.”He placed the book upon the stone altar. “This legend speak

Anya stared at the strategic map spread out across the table. “Lucen Dorne will not stay silent forever,” she said, her voice cutting through the tense stillness. “We must anticipate his next move.”Orion didn’t answer. He sat cross-legged in the dim corner of the room, his eyes closed in an uneasy meditation. It had been two days since Rayden left, and every passing hour felt like a year.Just as Anya was about to speak again, Orion’s pale blue eyes snapped open.“The wind has shifted.”Before Anya could ask what he meant, a faint vibration pulsed from the pocket of Orion’s robe. The Wind Communication Token, which had once been as cold as stone, began to tremble, radiating a soft warmth.With hands trembling slightly from a mixture of hope and fear, Orion drew it out. The pale jade token now glowed with a gentle light that grew brighter, as if a small soul had awakened inside it.Anya rushed over, her breath caught in her throat.A whisper flowed from the light, entering directly in