Chapter Thirty-Four: The Crisis of Cangye City

Deep within the forest, Fan Qiuming soared over the treetops, his body ravaged by wounds—some so severe that his gleaming white bones were exposed. Suddenly, a Gale Tiger sprang up from the ground, launching itself straight at him.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, hastily raising his sword to block. But the tiger was no ordinary beast; its iron jaws snapped down, shattering his blade with a sickening crunch.

"Damn it!" Fan Qiuming's brow furrowed as he lashed out, kicking the beast in the forehead to create space. In his current battered state, a head-on confrontation would be suicide. As soon as the Gale Tiger landed, it surged after him, swift as the wind.

Fan Qiuming had no choice but to keep his distance, fleeing the scene as quickly as possible. Yet the Gale Tiger showed no intention of letting him escape. He had managed to hold off the wolf packs in the mine for a while, but those had only been a fraction of what lurked nearby. From every corner of the dense woods, new monsters emerged—Black Blade Wolves, Gale Tigers, Violet-Spotted Panthers, and more—each one joining the relentless assault. He barely escaped, suffering grievous injuries.

What should have been a simple beast tide had escalated into a full-blown beast disaster. Such calamity would overwhelm not just a small city like this, but even larger districts would struggle to quell it without considerable strength and sacrifice.

Fan Qiuming felt a chill crawl up his spine. How could so many monsters have been bred here? Those he could see were daunting enough: Black Blade Wolves, Gale Tigers, Violet-Spotted Panthers...

"Where did he find so many monsters? All this for a mere small city—what madness is this?"

He could not fathom the reasoning.

"Is there some hidden secret at play?"

He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. "Forget it—first, I must reach Cangye City."

Without further hesitation, Fan Qiuming swallowed several pills, dragging his battered body toward Cangye City.

Inside the city, chaos reigned. City guards fought desperately atop the crumbling walls, struggling to stem the beast tide outside. Ordinary citizens fled toward any area untouched by monsters.

But most of the guards were mere mortals; how could they withstand a disaster of this scale? The front lines had already collapsed.

"Hold your ground!" the commander shouted, cursing. "Damn beasts—why have they suddenly gone mad and attacked the city?"

He rallied his soldiers, brandishing his spear to fend off the invading monsters. Watching his men fall one by one, devoured by beasts, he was filled with bitter regret.

"Come at me, you beasts! If you have the guts, face me!"

He stabbed through a monster pinning down a guard, hurling it aside with all his might. Sweeping his spear, he felled several more, but the blows barely slowed them. The monsters shook off the attacks and lunged again.

Though his spirit was strong, the commander was only one man—he could not stem the tide. In the end, he too was engulfed, leaving not even a whole corpse behind.

With the front lines broken, monsters poured into the city, turning it into a living hell. Screams and howls echoed through the streets.

"Damn... I'm too late!" Fan Qiuming stared at the ruined city gate, nothing left but shattered walls. The gate was destroyed, and within, rivers of blood flowed, severed limbs littered everywhere.

He did not linger. Snatching two spears from the ground, he rushed toward the Zhao residence. Besides Yun Ling, he now feared for Zhao Xinying as well.

All around, homes were reduced to rubble, with monsters gnawing on corpses amid the ruins. Fan Qiuming dispatched them mercilessly.

Arriving at the Zhao residence, he found the outer walls collapsed, but Zhao Xinying's room remained untouched.

"Zhao Xinying!" Fan Qiuming called out, but received no answer. Pushing open the door, he found the room empty.

"Not here?" he muttered. "Where did Yun Ling go?"

He expanded his spiritual sense, leaping to the rooftops and scanning the surroundings.

"Over there..."

Meanwhile, in a dead-end alley, Yun Ling shielded Zhao Xinying behind her. In front of them, Master Zhao stood with a wooden stick, facing a Nightmare Wolf. This beast was not physically strong, but it excelled at mental attacks. An experienced mortal could escape its illusions, but Master Zhao lacked such expertise.

He stared at the Nightmare Wolf, whose eyes suddenly turned jade-colored—a sign of its psychic assault. The instant their gazes met, Master Zhao was trapped in the beast's hallucination, his trembling body freezing. Zhao Xinying sensed something was wrong.

"Father? Father? What's wrong? Don't scare me," she pleaded, anxious at his motionless stance.

The Nightmare Wolf sidestepped Master Zhao, lunging at Yun Ling and Zhao Xinying. In desperation, Yun Ling grabbed a wooden ladder and swung it at the beast. Though she missed, it slowed the wolf's advance.

The Nightmare Wolf tried its psychic trick again on Yun Ling, but when their eyes met, she remained unaffected.

Now it was the beast's turn to be confused.

"Why isn't she affected by my psychic attack?" it wondered, intensifying its assault in an attempt to overpower Yun Ling. Yet she seemed immune, utterly unfazed.

Suddenly, Master Zhao snapped out of the illusion, seeing the Nightmare Wolf looming close. He raised his stick and struck.

"Damned beast! Stay away from my daughter!"

At that moment, his body no longer trembled. In the hallucination, he had found new resolve.

The Nightmare Wolf yelped in pain, turning to snarl at him. It stepped back, gathered itself, then charged. Master Zhao shut his eyes and swung his stick with all his strength.

"Father, watch out!" Zhao Xinying cried.

A piercing sound rang out as the Nightmare Wolf howled in agony. Master Zhao felt nothing, slowly opening his eyes—only to see a spear impaling the beast, pinning it to the ground.

The Nightmare Wolf thrashed wildly, then a second spear flew in, piercing its skull. Instantly, life left the beast.

Yun Ling looked toward the source of the spear, her voice filled with excitement.

"Master! You’re finally here—I thought I’d never see you again!"

"Young Master Fan?"

Following Yun Ling's gaze, Zhao Xinying saw Fan Qiuming standing atop a broken wall, gasping for breath, his body drenched in blood—whose, she could not tell. Her heart ached for him.

Master Zhao, still dazed, only relaxed when he realized they were safe, dropping his stick and collapsing in relief.

"At last," Fan Qiuming sighed, relieved he had arrived in time. He jumped down, stepping onto the dead wolf and yanking out both spears.

Master Zhao quickly rose and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Young Master Fan, for your righteous rescue. I—"

"Enough with the formalities," Fan Qiuming interrupted, scanning the area for a safer route. "Let’s go. I can’t guarantee your safety if we stay here."

Zhao Xinying approached, asking, "Young Master Fan, is that your blood—?"

"Beast blood," he replied curtly.

Master Zhao shook his head at the exchange, sighing inwardly, "Ah... daughters grow up so fast."

"We can reminisce later. Now, we must leave—follow me!"

Fan Qiuming scouted ahead, the three trailing him as roars and growls echoed nearby. Zhao Xinying trembled with fear; she had never witnessed such carnage, and it was a miracle she could keep moving at all.

Suddenly, tiger roars sounded from all directions. Fan Qiuming halted, alarmed.

"Tigers never hunt in packs... but clearly, there are more than just one or two nearby."

He handed Master Zhao a spear. "Take them and go. I’ll cover the rear."

"But—"

"Hesitate, and even I can’t save you!"

Without further explanation, Fan Qiuming thrust the spear at him. "Wait for me at the city gate. I’ll follow as soon as I can."

No sooner had he spoken than Gale Tigers emerged from the alleys, their bloodlust thickening the air. One lunged at Fan Qiuming, maw wide.

The other three quickly fled, leaving Fan Qiuming alone to face the threat. Spear in his left hand, he summoned an iron sword into his right.

"Alone again..." he muttered. Closing his eyes for a moment, he reopened them—a golden light shone in his left eye, while his right iris split into six segments.

"Five minutes. I’ll finish you all."

...