061. Blood and Fire

The wind howled past her ears, sharp and mournful, sending chills down her spine. Her body felt as though it were tossed amidst raging waves, rising and falling uncontrollably, left at the mercy of the tempest. Lingyu steadied her mind, quietly channeling her true energy to withstand the onslaught of the gale.

She had no idea how much time passed; it was only when her body began to grow cold that, suddenly, the wind ceased. She was flung high into the air, and before she knew it, she was plummeting downward.

As she landed, Lingyu rolled across the ground to absorb the impact and rose to her feet. No sooner had she stood than a familiar, foul, fishy wind assaulted her face, a suffocating pressure weighing down upon her, rendering her almost immobile. Turning her head, she found herself staring directly into a pair of enormous, bloodshot eyes, glowing with savage intent.

Damn! Lingyu scrambled backward in a panic, cursing furiously in her heart. Elder Feng had mentioned the possibility of landing right in a monster’s mouth—she hadn’t expected her luck to be so rotten as to fall directly before one. And this beast was clearly far stronger than she was!

The monster opened its massive jaws, revealing rows of gleaming white fangs. Drool dripped from its mouth, carrying with it a stench so foul she nearly gagged.

Lingyu had no time to think. She hurled the explosive charm she had been clutching straight into the monster's maw.

With a gulp, the beast swallowed it whole, its eyes blinking in confusion, as if unsure what it had just eaten.

A thunderous boom erupted—the explosive charm had been triggered the moment it left her hand. The monster shrieked in agony as it was blown to bits, blood spurting in all directions. It quickly collapsed, lifeless.

Lingyu prodded the beast’s torn body with her sword to ensure it was truly dead before she finally relaxed.

How close! If she hadn’t happened to have that charm in her hand, or if the monster had recognized the danger and spat it out, even if she’d managed to escape, she would’ve been severely injured at best, or perhaps killed outright.

After catching her breath, Lingyu set about skinning and dismantling the beast, storing its parts in her spatial pouch. The meat, naturally, would be fed to the Immortal Book. The hide, horns, eyes, and other parts she packed separately—they might make excellent materials for crafting artifacts.

Speaking of spatial pouches, the one issued by the Xuan Yuan Temple was clearly a basic model, only able to hold about a cubic yard of items. The one Han Funing had given her was more advanced, otherwise she would never have managed to carry away the entire treasure hoard. The one left by Cheng Yue was even better; after storing a mountain of spirit stones, it was still nearly empty.

Lingyu marveled at the superiority of the upper realm’s goods. From cultivation techniques to command tokens to spatial pouches, even a supposedly unremarkable disciple like Cheng Yue used such high-quality items. She couldn’t help but yearn for that world, wondering just how bountiful its resources might be.

Lost in thought, she soon finished carving up the beast. After cleaning the blood from her body with a dust-cleansing spell, she surveyed her surroundings.

She had only just entered the Immortal Realm and had already encountered a beast, leaving her nerves taut. Now, as she relaxed, she realized the spiritual energy here was astonishingly dense. Releasing the web of spirit threads from her mind, she felt each strand quivering, as if fish had returned to water, basking in nourishing joy. She had never felt anything like this in the outside world—not even with the aid of spirit-gathering formations during cultivation.

If the upper realm was truly like this, then she absolutely must go!

Lingyu looked around. Everywhere she saw was blanketed in vibrant flowers, their exotic scents intoxicating. Nearly every plant brimmed with spiritual energy—an impossibility outside. In the Western Luo Forest, it would take ages to find even a single true spirit herb.

Suddenly, Lingyu noticed a spirit herb growing where the monster had once lain. Its crimson berries swayed adorably in the breeze.

Could this be the spirit herb the beast was guarding? She recalled tales that every spirit herb had a beast as its guardian—this was no mere superstition; such cases were common.

Whatever the case, she would pick it first and ask questions later.

She rummaged through her spatial pouch and produced a box. It was issued by Xuan Yuan Temple for storing spirit herbs—the exterior was wood, but inside was lined with jade, perfect for preservation.

Carefully, Lingyu dug out the berry-laden herb, roots and all, and placed it in the jade box before storing it away. She then searched the area, gathering several other promising spirit herbs.

With her harvest complete, Lingyu took out the booklet distributed the day before, considering her next move.

She stood on a small plateau surrounded by slopes and a stream. According to the booklet, she was likely in the northeastern corner of the Immortal Realm.

The realm was vast; without a flying device, it would take half a month to cross from east to west. But flying on paper cranes was too conspicuous—if a flying beast spotted her, she would have little chance of survival.

In previous competitions for the position of Imperial Magus, the limit was typically one month: contestants would pick spirit herbs and slay beasts within the realm, and their gains would be compared to determine the victor. The place teemed with dangerous monsters, leading to high mortality rates among magi, but the rewards were great. Without these spirit herbs and beasts, few would ever reach the eighth or ninth level of Qi Refining.

In addition to the booklet, Han Funing had secretly given her a map marking his research findings—several spots in the realm that were likely entrances to the upper world.

No one knew that Lingyu possessed another invaluable document: Cheng Yue’s route map. Unfortunately, it was crudely drawn and required on-site verification.

After some comparison, Lingyu determined that the entrance marked by Cheng Yue lay slightly east of the realm’s center. Even if all went well, it would take five or six days to reach it.

Having decided on her direction, Lingyu put away the map and began searching for a path toward her destination.

...

Lingyu gripped the Kanli Sword, her focus absolute, sending arc after arc of sword energy slashing toward the beast before her.

This particular monster was about seventh level in Qi Refining, its body bloated and massive, resembling both a cow and a sheep—a veritable mountain of flesh. Its strength matched its bulk, and it periodically spat jets of water, making it a formidable opponent.

It had been five days since Lingyu entered the Immortal Realm. After determining her course, she headed south, toward the entrance marked on Cheng Yue’s map. Along the way, she had hacked her way through countless monsters and skirted death more times than she could remember, yet this was only halfway to her goal.

On her journey, she had passed many skeletons—some clad in the tattered robes of Xuan Yuan magi, others with nothing but rags remaining. Who knew how many magi had perished within this realm?

At first, the sight of the bones had unsettled her, but after repeated encounters, she grew numb. Instead, her resolve hardened: she must reach the boundary and find the path to the upper world.

Curiously, she had not seen another living soul in five days. Perhaps the Immortal Realm was simply too vast, and the contestants had all been dispersed? That seemed likely—everyone was on the move, and with only thirty or so participants, chance meetings were rare.

The monster suddenly reared back and roared, unleashing a barrage of water arrows straight at Lingyu.

Her spirit web was extended, allowing her to sense every movement within a ten-foot radius. As the beast opened its jaws, she twisted, leaping high on a wave of sword energy to narrowly avoid the projectiles. With a movement charm affixed to her body, she was especially nimble, flipping through the air to the beast’s far side. There, she fused the Kan Water and Li Fire sword energies into a single, violet blade of power and slashed hard at the monster’s body.

A sharp, tearing sound split the air as her sword energy pierced the creature’s thick hide, sending blood gushing forth.

Howling in pain, the beast whipped its head around and charged at her in a frenzy.

Lingyu leapt again, landing on the beast’s back. Gripping its tough horns, she drove the sword repeatedly into its neck.

Blood spurted even more freely. Maddened by agony, the monster bucked wildly, desperate to throw her off, thrashing with all its might.

Lingyu clung to its horns, legs locked tight, swinging her blade again and again. Before long, the beast was soaked in its own blood, as though it had crawled from a pool of gore.

She fared little better. The violent shaking left her dizzy and nauseous, but she clenched her teeth, holding on by sheer will.

This beast was at the seventh level of Qi Refining, stronger than she was, and its hide was naturally thick and tough. If she hadn’t honed herself in the Western Luo Forest, she would already be a corpse.

Though the advantage was hers, Lingyu knew better than to relax—until death claimed her foe, reversal was always possible. If she were thrown off, even a moment’s delay would see her gutted by those horns.

So she kept stabbing, her movements mechanical.

Once. Twice. Five times. Ten times. At last, the beast slowed, let out a mournful cry, and collapsed with a crash.

Lingyu remained astride its back, utterly spent, barely able to move. Even so, she raised her sword and brought it down upon the beast’s head again and again until the massive skull was finally severed.

Only after confirming its death did Lingyu wipe her face, trembling as she took out a pill and swallowed it with a mouthful of blood. Warmth spread through her as the medicine took effect. She grasped a handful of spirit stones and, drawing on both, slowly replenished her energy until she could move again.

Damn, that was exhausting! Lingyu exhaled heavily, sheathed her sword, pulled out a small knife, and began skinning and butchering the carcass. By now, she was quite adept at this; all the meat went to feed the Immortal Book, which in turn made her spirit web ever more sensitive with each meal.

Soon, the mountain of flesh was neatly packed away. Lingyu tidied up, scanned her surroundings warily, and slipped into the beast’s den, where she set up a charm array and began meditating to heal.

Monsters usually guarded their own territory. Having slain a seventh-level beast, she could rely on its lingering presence to keep weaker creatures at bay—making this the safest place to recover.

The days spent dancing on the edge of death had left her with internal injuries, lurking just beneath the surface. She could only suppress them for now; true recovery would require proper rest.

As Lingyu sat in meditation, a man happened to pass by, pausing in confusion.

“How strange, was there a battle here?” He knelt, examining the faint traces of blood on the ground.