Cultivator in a Zombie Apocalypse

Ren Zexian had lived 10,000 years and in those 10,000 years he had experienced many things, he had seen many things, but he did not expected to experience this.

Eld Dein was the name of the Middle Realm in which he was born, cultivated and fought for survival in. He had outlived his original sect, seen many ascend to the Higher Plane and been witness to much life and death. It was not the life for a man without strong will. But despite his longevity, despite his love for life and his love for this land, it seemed that Death would not be outran forever.

Ren Zexian and the small group of survivors trudged through the nearly barren landscape, watching as an old tree withered before their eyes. Its pitiful foliage turned brown and crumbled into dust, its branches sagged and cracked and the whole tree collapsed into splinters. The men and lone woman, pulled tighter the scarves about their faces, to prevent the inhalation of debris. "Senior," Lu Ting called out his name. "Is it truly the end?"

The man turned to him, his eyes unable to hide his sadness. He said nothing, but they all knew. The spiritual energy in the air was too thin, the plants and animals that once relied upon it were dying as time reclaimed them. The mortals once thought that only the cultivators relied on the bountiful energy in the air, but they were wrong. Spiritual energy was in the water, the earth and the air. Even should they not circulate it within their bodies and store it in their dantian, it was still in their flesh and blood. So what would happen once the energy was gone?

What came from the earth must be returned to the earth, but what if it did not? Although they were few in the scheme of things, high level cultivators could not rise further in a Middle Realm, they needed to ascend to continue chasing life and power. In the long term this meant nothing, there were many more cultivators coming from the many Lower Planes who could fill this void. But there came a time, at least for Eld Dein, when there were no cultivators ascending from the Lower Planes and yet the Elders still left. The thinning of the energy had been occurring for almost a million years hastened in the last hundred thousand, Ren Zexian had only experienced a small tick in time comparatively.

Ren Zexian had lived for 10,000 years. He had the chance to ascend, but for reasons of his own, he chose not to. He chose to continue living in the land he loved. He did not regret it, but he never imagined that the end of his life would be caused by the end of his world.

"Is there nothing that we can do?" Chang Min asked allowed. Chang Min was a child amongst them having lived barely 100 years. The oldest amongst them was Yu Zhang, who was more than 15,000 years old.

"Of course there is not," Long Wenwen mumbled. "The Higher Plane has shut its doors upon us. We are stranded."

"Not necessarily," Yu Zhang claimed. "We cannot go to the Higher Plane, this is true and we would be unlikely to reach another Middle Realm with our collective energies. However, we can descend."

"Senior," Ren Zexian frowned. "That is too risky. Should we fail, we will become mortal and age will surely catch up to us. Chang Min, Lu Ting and a few others may survive, depending on where we find ourselves, but they would be greatly aged. You and I would be but dust."

"We will become dust here also, young one," Yu Zhang stated. Ren Zexian could not claim that this was untrue. The old man and Ren Zexian discussed their options, before instructing their juniors. To protect themselves they must seal time from touching their bodies, before Yu Zhang and Ren Zexian implemented the transportation spell. The oldest cultivators prepared the spell as they watched the bodies of their juniors form a calcified shell, basically turning them to statue. The two men then began to quickly follow suit, activating the spell before their lips sealed shut.

A great void sucked the statues into it just before the dry ground that they formerly stood upon began to crack and splinter. The Middle Realm once known as Eld Dein was soon no more.

Ren Zexian's seal broke.

The man gasped as stale air filled his lungs and he began to awaken from his suspended state. He was surrounded in darkness, but he sensed there was some spiritual energy in this air, though not plentiful, it was more than that of his crumbling land. With weak fingers, he pushed at the thick shell he had formed, until it began to crack and fall away from him. He coughed as the pieces fell to the ground and stirred the dry dust. Where were they?

After emerging finally after much exertion, he mentally scanned the area, but he could find no other signs of life nearby. Did the others not survive? He sent his energies out once more, the spiritual energy around him reacting to his delicate touch. It seemed he was in an underground space, there seemed to be just two pockets in the ground, but there was also a small crack in the second space, which lead away from here.

With no other option, he used his senses to guide him to the crack and took a deep breath before sending a concentrated blast of energy to widen it. He felt that there was a small flow of air coming from a certain place, so it followed it, noticing how the space seemed to be more uniform here as if it were a corridor rather than a natural cavern. There was also a strange, blinking light up ahead. Some sort of smooth crystal attached to a rope dangled above him, the crystal glowed for a moment, then dimmed, before glowing once more.

Swiftly dismissing it, he moved forward and found that there was a dead end and that the cold air was sinking from above. Of course it was completely dark, he could not see, so he pushed his mind outwards once more. It seemed this vertical tunnel ascended several metres before coming to another enclosed space. He withdrew his sword, chanted beneath his breath, before leaping lightly up onto the floating sword. He then instructed the sword to climb vertically until they reached that upper space.

This space was not with walls of dirt but formed instead by large lengths of cold metal, a strange unreflective metal, not that which formed his sword. What manner of blacksmith could create such uniformed spaces? He wondered. There was some light here, though it was dim, it seemed to be emanating from the same crystals as in the tunnels.

He leapt down from his sword, before summoning it and sheathing it. He then became distracted by odd growling noises.

Ren Zexian had lived for 10,000 years and in that 10,000 years he had experienced many things, including the end of his world. However, he did not expect to experience what he would learn was known as a zombie apocalypse…