My Longevity Simulation Chapter 9: Fate has Unforeseen Paths

Li Fan stared at the written confession resting on the table, a heavy sense of discouragement washing over him.

Kou Hong hadn't been dishonest. The man truly possessed no knowledge of how to assist mortals in escaping this secluded realm.

"The Land of Immortal Extinction..." After enduring five cycles of reincarnation and three centuries of waiting, all of Li Fan's aspirations had crumbled into impossible fantasies.

With his path to immortality seemingly severed, Li Fan appeared to age decades in a single night, both in spirit and body.

"Land of Immortal Extinction..." He muttered the name once more, his heart swelling with a profound, endless sense of resentment.

"Why was I fated to be reborn in such a desolate place? Had I been born in the cultivation realm beyond, the power of [Truth] would have guaranteed me a real shot at immortality. Yet, destiny saw fit to trap me in this Land of Immortal Extinction!"

The details contained within Kou Hong's testimony resurfaced in Li Fan's mind.

As the name implied, the Land of Immortal Extinction was a territory where cultivators could no longer survive. Millennia ago, a cataclysmic shift had rocked the ancient world of immortal cultivation.

In the beginning, it was merely a sickness ravaging the mortal population, something the high-and-mighty cultivators ignored as trivial.

Everything spiraled out of control, however, once a cultivator was accidentally tainted by this cryptic plague.

Upon infecting a practitioner, the disease seemed to undergo an inexplicable mutation, gaining the ability to jump between those who walked the path of cultivation.

The transmission vector was the very thing cultivators depended on most: the spiritual energy of the world.

Carried by the natural Qi of heaven and earth, the contagion surged through the entire cultivation world with terrifying speed. Those infected found their Cultivation regressing rapidly; the most unfortunate lost their entire Foundation Establishment or higher powers in a single night, becoming as frail as mortals. Within days, they would perish, their souls returning to the heavens.

As the death toll among practitioners mounted, a wave of sheer hopelessness gripped the community.

Driven by desperation, some cultivators began to vent their fury upon the source of the disaster—the mortals.

A period of mass slaughter ensued.

Against the overwhelming might of cultivators, mortals were powerless, capable of nothing but waiting for the blade to fall.

This genocide was eventually halted, though not because of any newfound morality. It stopped because of a gruesome discovery: the plague did not die with the mortals. Instead, their deaths released the contagion into the environment, further polluting the currents of spiritual energy that flowed through the world.

The concentration of the plague within the cultivation world spiked violently.

This caused an even greater number of cultivators to fall.

Left with no other choice, the practitioners ceased their slaughter of the common folk.

Yet, cultivators were not the type to simply wait for the end. While one group sought medical cures to combat the sickness, another faction proposed the infamous [Great Migration Plan].

Though many initially protested the scheme, the majority eventually consented for the sake of their own survival.

The [Great Migration Plan] was built upon a specific logic:

Since mortals could not be killed and no cure was in sight, the plague would only intensify as the mortal population grew.

Because the disease required spiritual energy to travel, a solution was devised: exile all mortals from the cultivation realm into minor worlds, fragmented pocket dimensions, and other zones devoid of spiritual energy. These areas would then be sealed with powerful formations to ensure the mortals could never return.

By doing this, the "mortal plague" would be quarantined, giving cultivators the time needed to research a permanent cure.

Furthermore, the world was filled with countless unexplored pocket dimensions, meaning there was no shortage of space for the banished masses.

Thus, by the collective decree of the entire cultivation world, the mortals began a forced migration that would span centuries.

The number of mortals who perished during this hundred-year exodus was of no concern to the cultivators. Faced with such absolute power, the mortals had no means to resist.

After hundreds of years of relocation, the mortal population of the cultivation realm was scattered across various tiny worlds. It took nearly a thousand more years for the concentration of the plague to drop to a level that was considered safe.

During that millennium, constant research finally allowed cultivators to develop a method to purify the contagion.

However, to their frustration, they discovered that even after purification, the plague remained dormant within mortal bloodlines.

Even if the world was currently empty of mortals, the children of cultivators did not always possess the talent for cultivation. More mortals would inevitably be born, and within them, the threat of the plague lived on.

Moreover, because the disease was uniquely fatal to those who sought immortality, any mortal descendant wishing to begin cultivation had to first undergo a rigorous purification of their own bloodline.

Over time, this plague became the definitive boundary between the mundane and the divine, earning the name: the Immortal-Mortal Miasma.

To prevent a second outbreak of the Immortal-Mortal Miasma, cultivators collectively agreed to avoid the regions where mortals had been exiled.

Eventually, these territories became known as the Lands of Immortal Extinction.

While there were countless such lands throughout the world, very few cultivators were willing to gamble their lives by entering them.

Li Fan had been incredibly lucky to encounter even two such individuals.

Now it was clear: these cultivators had no method to lead mortals out. How could Li Fan hope for a more powerful Elder to suddenly appear and break the seal?

Furthermore, as a mere mortal, his years were numbered. Even if he could use his simulation to reincarnate, he was still bound by the limits of a human lifespan.

He was already seventy years old, and his physical body would likely fail him by eighty-six.

The odds of encountering another cultivator within those remaining sixteen years were virtually non-existent.

Under such circumstances, how could Li Fan not feel the weight of despair?

He had caught a glimpse of the path to the Dao, only to find it was an unreachable mirage.

Was he truly destined to live the life of a mortal over and over again?

Li Fan refused to accept it.

The gates to immortality were right in front of him, seemingly just a step away, yet that first step was blocked by an immovable wall.

Reflecting on the experiences of his many lives and the three hundred years of agonizing patience, Li Fan could not bring himself to abandon his quest for the Dao.

"Is there truly no way?" He questioned.

Suddenly, like a flash of lightning piercing through a thick fog, Li Fan recalled a detail he had overlooked.

How exactly had millions of mortals been moved thousands of years ago?

The Land of Immortal Extinction and the cultivation world were neighbors, yet they were distinct, separated realms.

The mortals certainly didn't walk here on their own feet.

There must have been some form of transport, surely?

Could those ancient vessels or mechanisms still exist today?

If he could locate those relics, could he use them to cross over into the cultivation world?

Even if the chance was microscopic, it provided a tiny spark of hope for Li Fan.

Surging with sudden adrenaline, he rushed toward the prison cell where Kou Hong was being kept.

He needed to ask Kou Hong if such a plan was even remotely possible.