What is an immortal?

Southern Border.

Late autumn.

As the setting sun descended, it illuminated the staggered mountain peaks, making them shine like golden hills. The majestic giant peaks stood piercing the sky, pointing straight to the heavens, a sight enduring through ages.

Among the mountains, the red leaves were as if aflame, the layered forests completely tinted. The evening breeze howled, the mist and rosy clouds were dense, resembling a sea of fire churning endlessly.

Between the trees, a curtain of waterfall cascaded down, like a ferocious silver dragon, splitting mountains and breaking walls, cutting through the forest sea, leaping into the torrential river at the mountain's base, splashing waves a hundred feet high, with a roar that reached the skies.

The river, a hundred yards wide, rushed eastward. Riverbank rocks emerged sporadically, half hidden, as the rapid water split into countless whitecaps.

In the middle of the riverway, two battle ships of whole-bodied crimson sailed side by side, swift as galloping horses, clearing the way for a beast-like tower ship behind them.

The tower ship had seven towers built upon it, towering and majestic. Flags fluttered fiercely on both sides. One flag bore a red firebird, the other, a blood-red field with a gold "Jin" character, twinkled with blinding brilliance under the sun. The decks were lined with squads of armored soldiers in silver armor wielding halberds, standing sentinel in grim order.

The three ships sliced through the waves with sails raised, swiftly passing the waterfall.

Suddenly, in the middle of the third layer of the tower ship, identified with "Fei Residence" on the wooden windows, those windows burst open, and a frail figure flew out, vaulting over the low wall surrounding the walkway, plummeting downward.

The moment his feet touched the ground, he bent his knees and leaned forward, attempting to roll to avoid injury. Either due to insufficient momentum or a lack of strength, he rolled continuously until he slammed hard into the ship's rear railing and stopped.

The figure turned out to be a dressed-up youth.

He had delicate features but was exceptionally pale. The painted silk cage crown on his head was askew; his embroidered gold-threaded double-breasted shirt was slightly disheveled.

The youth groaned, bracing himself with one hand on the railing, his eyes closed, gasping for air, his chest heaving dramatically.

On his thigh, a dagger was deeply embedded up to its hilt. His brocade trousers were already soaked with fresh blood, a mix of red and black.

The dagger was evidently poisoned.

Perhaps due to the noise of the nearby waterfall, which sounded like the Milky Way falling from the Nine Heavens, these disturbances at the stern seemed to go unnoticed by the armored soldiers on board.

At that moment, another figure leaped from the broken window on the third layer, silently landing on the second deck of the rear building.

This was a short-robed youth with short hair, dressed similarly to the soldiers on the ship, except without armor. His face seemed indifferent. He carried an Iron-Backed Bow in one hand, with a quiver hanging diagonally across his waist.

The short-robed youth looked down from the second story, immediately locking his gaze on the dressed-up youth and without hesitation drew his bow and strung an arrow, aiming below. An arrow flew through the air.

Just as the arrow was a mere few yards away, the dressed-up youth suddenly rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the lethal arrow. His sleeve was torn open by a nail on the deck.

"Clang"

The arrow, exceptionally sharp, pierced through the railing and plunged into the river.

Seeing this, the short-robed youth swung the large bow behind him and leapt down from the second story.

By now, the dressed-up youth was leaning against the ship's stern, his recent vigorous movements causing dark blood to seep from the wound on his thigh.

His eyes, normally clear, now held a hint of resolve. With one hand, he reached for and grasped the dagger's hilt embedded in his leg and pulled it out.

"Ah," the pain made him scream.

The dressed-up youth, enduring the pain and even more alert, saw that his opponent was already upon him. He placed both hands on the railing and then leapt backward.

Splash—a body plunged straight into the churning river waters.

The Short Robed Youth's face dramatically changed, he quickly rushed to the stern, his large bow already drawn taut. With a twanging sound, a series of arrows shot forth, cutting through the air, aiming for the spot where the Dressed-up Youth had fallen into the water.

...

As soon as the Dressed-up Youth hit the water, he kicked his legs back, heading downstream towards the riverbed.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...

Arrows, carrying an urgent whistling sound, were shot from the water's surface, each diving diagonally into the water.

The youth clenched his jaws and used his arms and legs together, squeezing out every last bit of his strength, desperately diving towards the riverbed.

Suddenly, the nearby currents became turbulent. A strong undertow caught his body, instantly sweeping him several feet away.

...

Several days later, a hundred miles away.

Dark clouds filled the sky, and a light rain fell gently, sprinkling on the endless, undulating withered grass, casting a foggy veil over this already desolate valley plain.

A majestic river, flowing from the direction of the setting sun, wound through the plain, rolling eastward, without a visible end.

In the sky, occasionally, several large birds could be seen flapping across, while various faint animal roars emanated from around, the rare disturbances of this silent land.

Hoofbeats approached—a troop consisting of over ten riders on unidentified beasts.

Leading the group, several Knights were large, with bare, muscled, and bronze-toned upper bodies, adorned with colorful tattoos and crisscrossing scars that formed eerie patterns, all wearing varying lengths of Beast Skin skirts around their lower bodies.

Centre among the riders was a mighty man, about eight feet tall. Unlike those beside him, he draped a brightly colored golden Beast Skin over his shoulders, with a horn made from an unknown Beast Bone hanging around his neck.

Following these several men were more tattooed Knights, half-naked, and among them was a tall woman, completely covered in a white robe, wearing a hat and a veil over her face, riding a fierce tiger-looking beast, encircled protectively by the tattooed Knights.

This troop hurried along in the rain, reaching the great river through a muddy path.

"Stop, rest for a moment." Following the mighty man's horn sound, the troop halted by the roadside, and all the tattooed Knights alighted and gathered around the woman's mount, on guard.

Suddenly, the man noticed a Dressed-up Youth lying by the riverbank, his life hanging by a thread.

The youth's eyes were tightly closed, evidently severely injured, his breath exceedingly weak, hardly likely to see tomorrow's sun.

The Knights began discussing among themselves, yet no one approached.

"Quiet,"

The mighty man's low voice scolded, immediately quieting the noisy crowd.

He cautiously looked around, hesitated for a moment, then briskly ran toward the youth, bent over to check his breathing, and felt his limbs, before quickly passing the guards to whisper something to the veiled woman.

The veiled woman pulled a pitch-black medicine pill from a Beast Skin pouch hanging at the side of her mount and handed it to the man.

The man returned to the riverbank, stuffed the medicine pill into the youth's mouth, making him swallow it, then turned and walked back to the group.

Half a moment later, the entire troop resumed their journey, slowly moving eastwards, their destination unknown.