Chapter Twenty-Four: The Unexpected

After walking for a long time, he found himself still deep within the forest, the trees towering overhead. Even climbing to the treetops did not reveal his location or the direction he should take, so he could only keep moving forward, choosing a path at random.

It was obvious his surroundings had changed greatly from before. The forest had become a strange and uncanny place, an unsettling aura permeating the air.

Night fell before long, and Jiang Feng had no choice but to stop and make camp amidst the wilderness, deciding to continue on his journey the following day.

It was a night fraught with unease. At midnight, Jiang Feng was startled awake by a chilling, blood-curdling howl, sharp and immense, accompanied by a heavy, metallic clattering that stirred a cold dread from head to toe.

The moonlight quivered through the dense, overlapping shadows of the trees, their forms shifting in the wind, half-seen and haunting.

A gust of cold wind swept through, sending a chill straight to the marrow.

Jiang Feng tried to comfort himself, buried his head, and forced himself into sleep.

…

The next morning, Jiang Feng awoke, gathered his things, and began warming up with vigorous sprints through the undergrowth. Once his body was warmed, he climbed the vines to the treetops, moving nimbly and swiftly like a monkey, the wind whistling past him. Even as he pressed on with wild abandon, he never forgot to observe the scenery around him. He had never seen a forest so vast, filled with such an array of strange and marvelous creatures.

Suddenly, a thunderous crash erupted nearby, growing louder and closer.

He realized at once that something massive was barreling toward him with unstoppable force. Whatever it was, it had come prepared, but Jiang Feng, suspended in mid-air, could not halt his momentum.

With a tremendous clang, Jiang Feng collided headlong into the beast.

It was only after the dust settled that he could make out the monster’s true form—a creature with wings sprouting from its back and three horns jutting from its head. Its body emitted a peculiar scent, oddly calming to the mind.

The beast resembled a pig in shape, its head white while the rest of its body was covered in brown fur. A single, malevolent eye glared from the center of its forehead, not shielded by fur or scales, but appearing as if forged from blackened iron, its surface glossy and metallic.

When it breathed, the winds howled and thunder rumbled through the air.

Now awakened, the beast charged at Jiang Feng, the sound of shattering stone echoing again, its low, anguished roar even more tortured than before. It thrashed, hurling itself against a massive boulder.

Where once grass flourished and trees stood lush, all was now sand and desolation. The ground lay barren, reflecting harsh sunlight in blinding flashes. On either side of the path, only withered trees remained—once vibrant giants, now dead for centuries, lying in tangled heaps.

A deep gash was opening along the beast’s spine, exposing a new, even blacker and more lustrous body beneath, as if cast from pure obsidian.

This beast was shedding its skin. Jiang Feng could clearly discern what was happening—an abnormal process, akin to a cicada molting, but on a monstrous scale. It was bizarre, otherworldly.

He stepped closer, curiosity overcoming his caution, observing the strange transformation. What was the purpose behind such an unfathomable phenomenon?

Out of nowhere, a name surfaced in his mind: “Lu Yu.” It echoed like a celestial melody, arising from nothing.

Jiang Feng searched all around him, but found no trace of anyone or anything. In regions where such beasts grew, plagues ran rampant, leaving the land barren and dead. Now he understood why everything around him was so lifeless. Yet, as he looked around, the once dead and yellowed grasses and trees seemed to be sprouting anew.

It was madness. Such events defied all reason—nothing like this had ever happened in his memories.

He turned back to the beast and saw that, though its body was slick with foul, viscous fluid, two wings had indeed grown from its back.

Though these newly formed wings now hung limp, Jiang Feng did not doubt the power they held. If the beast were to unfurl them, the elements themselves would surely shift, the heavens and earth would tremble, and the world would manifest signs to acknowledge and accept this new force.

“Wings born of the land, hence Lu Yu. No wonder, no wonder,” Jiang Feng murmured to himself.

The beast had noticed him. Its eyes blazed red as it swept its gaze over him, then it stomped its feet—thunderous. Jiang Feng was jolted to his senses, realizing that now was the time to run. He took off at a sprint, running for his life.

He ran desperately, abandoning all technique, all breathing discipline—nothing mattered now but the frantic motion of his legs. He didn’t know how long he’d been running or how much farther he needed to go. He was possessed by an almost demonic energy, running wildly, his breathing ragged, heart pounding beyond its limits, his lungs burning as the heated air hissed through his windpipe.

He couldn’t see the path—only the rush of wind in his ears, the rustling of grass and branches as he broke through. His legs moved mechanically, instinctively, each stride worsening the pain of his wounds. But now, even pain was a luxury he couldn’t afford to acknowledge.

He could feel the ground’s hardness with each footfall, the reverberations accumulating throughout his body, until he was almost numb, the pain of his injuries fading as if his body had become impervious.

He couldn’t stop. Stopping meant death. There was no time to turn back—curiosity would be fatal now.

In this world of darkness, even with an uncertain future, he had no choice but to keep running with all his might.

Faster, almost there, almost out.

He tasted something salty and wet in his mouth—a thick, fishy tang. Slowly, he forced his clenched teeth apart, realizing they were pressed into something soft and fleshy. His lips, perhaps.

The realization struck, and agony erupted in his mind like a volcano, but even crying out was a luxury he couldn’t spare.

Faster! Faster! Push harder!

He could feel his heart spasming, near to bursting, the last reserves of his lungs wrung dry, on the verge of collapse.

He had lost all sense of direction, clinging to the single thought: run, just pick a direction and run. If he stopped, he’d die. Behind him, trees crashed to the ground, and the beast’s heavy, ragged breaths echoed in his ears.

Jiang Feng had abandoned all thought of fighting the monster—this was not the time for reckless heroics. The creature had already evolved beyond the normal realm of underworld beasts; it was surely at least a Nether Demon Beast, and an advanced one at that.

He understood that he was nothing more than collateral, an afterthought—the real target likely chosen out of boredom.

Whatever the case, survival meant putting as much distance as possible between himself and the beast.

When confronted with something that defies all logic, there’s no need to understand it.

“Existence is truth,” Jiang Feng had always kept that saying close to his heart. Yet, whenever something new and strange appeared, he couldn’t suppress his curiosity. It was a flaw he’d carried all his life, and it nearly cost him dearly this time. Curiosity really did kill the cat.

If only he hadn’t come here to participate in this ordeal.

A perfectly ordinary trial, and he had managed to turn it into a disaster. On arrival, he’d been chased by a low-grade underworld beast, and now, caught in a territorial dispute between greater monsters, he was lucky not to be their primary target. Otherwise, even nine lives wouldn’t be enough.

The trees around him were being obliterated, and he could feel it wouldn’t be long before the devastation reached him. He could not linger for another moment.

Not far now, but if he wanted to escape with his life, speed was everything.

Charge!

Faster, faster, faster—Jiang Feng chanted silently to himself as he ran for his life.