Bright Crimson

The mountain path was rugged, strewn with jagged rocks. The terrain was treacherous, and out of caution, Qin Sang chose not to fly. Although the topographical map had markings, this place was far from static. The lairs of ferocious beasts, for instance, changed with every opening, and the beasts fought and slaughtered one another. With a single lapse in caution, accidentally barging into a beast's lair was a common occurrence. The number of cultivators who ended up in the bellies of ferocious beasts was no fewer than those who perished in the secret realm's restrictions. The two-headed hou traveled alongside Qin Sang, maintaining vigilance together; when it came to sensing ferocious beasts, the creature was keener than he was. Before long, Qin Sang reached the mountain summit. His figure flickered as he concealed himself among a cluster of boulders to survey the way forward. The route he had chosen was remote. On the way up, he had seen no traces of anyone passing through. The mountain forest ahead appeared utterly serene, devoid of any human presence. The peaks beyond rose progressively higher; he could only take things one step at a time. He and the two-headed hou quickly descended the mountain, crossed a river valley, and began climbing once more. In this manner, they traversed three mountains in succession without encountering danger, and their pace grew somewhat lighter. "I can finally see it..." Qin Sang stood at the mountain summit, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the sea of clouds behind the ranges as he murmured to himself. At the edge of his vision, deep within the sea of clouds, the towering silhouette of a pagoda loomed faintly. A golden radiance gleamed in the depths of the cloud sea, as though a blazing sun were concealed within. The clouds rolled and unrolled in an ever-shifting dance. Added to the vast distance, Qin Sang could only glimpse the middle section of the Heaven Tower, its spire buried deep in the sea of clouds. Gazing from afar, bathed in the golden radiance, the Heaven Tower seemed surrounded by countless auspicious birds and beasts, presenting an ethereal realm of transcendent splendor that held Qin Sang transfixed, awed by the grand monument. He looked up into the depths of the white clouds. Had he really fallen from up there? Filled with doubt, he stared for a long while, but could see nothing beyond the vast, hazy vapors. No wonder the cultivators beneath the Heaven Tower back then had mistaken him for an ancient corpse. "Let's go!" Qin Sang withdrew his gaze, patted the two-headed hou on the head, and resumed his journey. *** A wide river cut through the valley between two mountains, its torrent rushing violently against the rock faces and kicking up frothy white waves. Waterfalls cascaded down the cliffs on either side, their deafening roar reverberating through the mountains and drowning out all other sounds. At that moment, Qin Sang and the two-headed hou crouched within a patch of bushes, looking up at the damp stone wall ahead without daring to make the slightest sound. The mist kicked up by the waterfalls gathered into a thin vapor in the valley, allowing them to conceal themselves with ease. They were watching a fissure in the sheer cliff. From time to time, white-feathered, red-tailed cranes would fly out, circle outside for a while, and then return to the crevice. From Qin Sang's vantage point, he could roughly make out some of what was inside the crevice. The rock fissure was the nesting ground of these cranes, home to more than a dozen of them. Every single one shared the same appearance. An adult crane, counting its long tail feathers, measured a full zhang in length. Qin Sang recognized them: they were called red-tailed cranes, a type of ferocious beast unique to the Hall of Seven Kills. Irritable by nature, with claws as sharp as swords, despite their slender frames that looked less imposing than predatory beasts, their physical bodies were remarkably formidable. Facing a flock of adult red-tailed cranes, even a late Core Formation stage cultivator would have no choice but to flee at the first sight of them. Red-tailed cranes naturally preferred the shade of forests and typically nested in ancient, leafy trees; a single flock could often dominate a vast swathe of mountain woods. Because their nests were well concealed, many cultivators inadvertently trespassed onto their territory. Curiously, this flock had nested in a rock crevice—the very sort of place they disliked most. Initially caught unawares, Qin Sang had nearly been spotted by them and had hurried to hide. Anyone else seeing so many red-tailed cranes would have fled in terror. Yet, bold because of his skill, Qin Sang risked drawing closer and discovered the reason for their presence here. An old vine had taken root deep within the crevice, clinging to the rock. The vine hung upside down, bearing several bright crimson fruits. Qin Sang could not identify what kind of spiritual fruit it was. Yet for an entire flock of red-tailed cranes to relocate their colony, it was certainly no ordinary fruit. An idea stirred in Qin Sang's mind, and he crept close with the two-headed hou to see if there was a chance to snatch the fruit away. Had he encountered a secret realm shrouded in ancient restrictions, he would never have lingered no matter how fine the treasure, as breaking the ward would take too much time, and he would have headed straight for the Heaven Tower. Snatching spiritual fruit, on the other hand, meant grabbing it and running, which would hardly take any time at all. Moreover, he happened to know a fair bit about red-tailed cranes and was confident he could shake them off. With the fruit looking so enticingly crimson, leaving without taking it would be doing a disservice to the trip. Many places in the Hall of Seven Kills grew spiritual herbs and fruits, but they were either heavily guarded by restrictions or protected by ferocious beasts; whether one could take them depended entirely on strength. Coming across an opportunity like this was rare, and once missed, it would be gone. Regardless of what effects the spiritual fruit possessed, or whether it was ripe, having it in hand was never a bad thing. Qin Sang quietly drew back, surveyed the surrounding terrain, returned to his spot, and gave a few instructions to the two-headed hou, resorting to his old trick of sending it out to lure the enemy. Qin Sang was well-versed in this routine, exploiting his evasion techniques to run rampant. The two-headed hou was deeply reluctant. The strength of this flock of red-tailed cranes was clearly far superior to the beasts at the bottom of the cliff; if caught, it might well lose its life here. "When you run, jump into the river. They won't be able to find you. Meet me downstream. Once I figure out what kind of spiritual fruit it is, I'll share one with you later," Qin Sang promised in a low voice. The two-headed hou nudged its furry head in front of Qin Sang, its two vertical pupils staring straight at him from either side. It was extremely suspicious that this human was duping it. Ever since being captured by him, it had been treated as pack labor, doing all the dirty and exhausting work while receiving nothing good in return—its status was lower even than that fat worm that did nothing but eat and sleep. Had this man not sworn an oath to grant its freedom, it would have quit long ago. Qin Sang glared at it fiercely. "Aren't you afraid it's poisonous and will kill you? Every beast in here is abnormal. If you want to turn out like them, be my guest and eat it!" Recalling the chaotic battle in the Purple Mist Deathland, the two-headed hou shrank its head back, then bounded out from the bushes. Agile and swift, it leaped onto the sheer cliff, hooking its sharp claws deep into the stone before vaulting upward. At the same time, the red-tailed cranes inside the crevice spotted the two-headed hou and let out piercing screeches. *Whoosh! Whoosh! ...* Several adult red-tailed cranes burst out of the fissure, swooping down like lightning. A gale battered against them. The cranes' momentum was astonishing, their razor-sharp talons gleaming with a chilling glint. The two-headed hou did not dare dally; its body blurred, splitting into several phantoms that darted in various directions along the cliff face, though their destination remained the same. Unable to distinguish the real one from the illusions for the moment, the red-tailed cranes split up to intercept the phantoms. They failed to notice that, while their attention was drawn by the two-headed hou, a human figure was stealthily scaling the cliff in the distance at astonishing speed. *Pop! Pop! ...* The phantoms were shattered one after another. Nearly seized by a red-tailed crane and seeing that matters were going poorly, the two-headed hou flipped over and leaped straight off the cliff. Landing on the ground, it bolted in a frantic retreat. The enraged red-tailed cranes pursued relentlessly. By this point, that figure had already scaled the sheer cliff.