The dragon-nosed horse galloped briskly along the river, mud splashing beneath its hooves. The two pack horses behind were not slow either, keeping up closely.
Chen Chuan had never specifically learned to ride horses before, but with his body control and coordination, once in the saddle, he had only needed a brief adjustment to become completely at ease, appearing to all eyes like a seasoned equestrian.
Although this undeveloped territory was dense with woods, the terrain on either side of the river was open ground. According to the map provided by Chen Bitong, the river flowed directly toward his destination, so for now, all he had to do was follow along its banks.
However, things shifted constantly in the Confluence and could not be judged by conventional logic, so he would adapt to whatever circumstances arose.
Furthermore, the area was nowhere near as tranquil as it appeared on the surface.
Bizarre and exotic creatures appeared near the water from time to time. To save time, he generally did not entangle himself with them, avoiding them when possible and driving them off with mental power when evasion was impossible.
After traveling for several hours, the river channel ahead suddenly narrowed. Flanking it were vast swathes of riverbed pebbles, all roughly the same size as if polished by hand.
After a glance, he urged his horse to leap and gallop right across them. Yet as they rode across, every single stone disturbed by the horses' hooves sprouted legs and scrambled to its feet, swiftly scuttling toward the water.
These "pebbles" turned out to be insects whose carapaces resembled river stones. As he rode past, the stretch of stones spanning several li began to undulate and writhe like a surging tide.
Chen Chuan paid them no heed and simply urged his mount forward. Even so, this speed was far below the dragon-nosed horse's limit, allowing the two pack horses behind to keep up without trouble.
Once he had cleared the several-li stretch, he looked back. The river stones had vanished without a trace, and the narrow channel had been completely clogged midway, causing the river to spill over its banks.
By now, the two pack horses were huffing and puffing from the hurried pace. He decided to pull to a halt, then raised his arm to check the activity index on his wrist.
Even without deploying his second self, the reading remained zero.
Having developed sufficient mental power, he could clearly sense the corruptive taint and deflect it with ease.
From this he gathered that only with sufficient mental strength could one better adapt to this realm.
Looking up, Chaoming was circling overhead, scouting the surroundings for him. The bird stayed reasonably close; the environment and its native fauna were far too perilous, and staying nearby allowed them to support each other.
After resting for a short while, he fed the horses some water and nutrition paste, then resumed his journey.
The next few hours of travel went smoothly enough. By afternoon, however, the river took a sharp, sweeping bend. Around the bend lay an endless expanse of black loam, within which plump, red-headed worms could occasionally be seen wriggling and burrowing through the soil.
Chen Chuan observed them, and his memory immediately recognized them as creatures called red-headed loopers.
The reason they left such a deep impression was that according to the experience left by Chen Bitong, roasting these worms yielded a remarkably savory meal that required no seasoning at all—skewering them on maple twigs made them taste even better.
This was not Chen Bitong and his companions indulging their palates; consuming the Confluence's organisms was an essential part of pioneer work.
Many things in the Confluence contained high-energy nutrients, while others could serve as medicinal ingredients or rare biological materials. Otherwise, so many corporations would not have established branches here.
In essence, though unexplored territories were exceedingly dangerous, they were veritable treasure troves if charted and exploited.
Third limit fighters could roughly discern an organism's life stratum, knowing what was edible and what was not. With their tenacious vitality, even if they mistakenly ingested something they couldn't identify at first glance, it didn't matter; they could simply tough it out.
Naturally, that was provided teammates were watching one's back; if alone, no one would dare take such chances.
Chen Chuan was unconcerned. With his second self, he feared nothing of the sort. Still, he had no leisure to roast worms; he would rather spend that time cultivating.
He knew, however, that while the surface of this black loam looked solid enough, stepping onto it carried the risk of sinking. There was no firm purchase beneath, so even he had to tread carefully. The wisest course was to go around it.
Thus, after pausing briefly, he detoured wide. It took several hours before he finally cleared the area.
Yet this took him far away from the river's course. Navigating the Confluence was no simple task. Though day and night existed, neither sun, moon, nor stars were visible, forcing travelers to gauge their bearings roughly from their surroundings.
He cross-referenced the map stored in his boundary credential. If he had not strayed too far, there should be an indigenous settlement nearby open to communication.
Chen Bitong had once stayed there for a few days. If Chen Chuan could locate it, he could pinpoint his position. With any luck, he might even glean intelligence on the staging camps of the Syndicate and the Linax Federation.
However, taking the detour had cost a good deal of time, and he sensed he would not reach it before nightfall.
Nights in the Confluence were extraordinarily hazardous and bizarre, entirely unsuited for travel. He needed to find a spot to make camp first.
Nothing in the wilderness of the Confluence could be trusted, trees included, and places with water sources were all the more dangerous. In the end, he found an open space backed against an earthen slope.
Having chosen the site, he threw several punches into the ground in rapid succession. Explosive thuds rang out, blasting a deep pit into the earth. The rocks, vermin, and weeds several meters below were all pulverized by his jin.
He then unfolded an entrenching shovel and excavated a shelter without much effort, large enough for two people to turn around inside.
Climbing out, he sprinkled some specially prepared insect-repelling powder into the hollow. From the pack horse's saddlebag, he retrieved a specialized tarp and lined the cavern with it, then misted it with medicinal fluid from a spray bottle. The tarp hardened rapidly, propping up the space and reinforcing its structural integrity.
With that completed, he brought out a tent coated in special compounds. He laid the base down first to cover the hardened tarp, then pitched the upper structure. Once it was securely anchored, he fastened the buckles along the edges and pressed all the hook-and-loop fasteners flush, leaving not the slightest gap.
After finishing, he inspected everything once more. Satisfied, he stepped back up to the surface and chopped some firewood. Five meters from the tent, he arranged three bonfires in a triangular formation, inserting a "fire core"—an overnight essential in the Confluence—right in the center. Once he tethered the three horses near the tent, he lit the bonfires.
The blazing flames mirrored one another, encircling the tent squarely within their light.
Chen Chuan checked his watch. It was nearly six o'clock. He called Chaoming down, had the bird enter the tent, and stepped inside after it. The instant he lowered the door flap, the sky behind him abruptly dimmed, plunging the interior of the tent into pitch darkness.
He reached to the side and flicked a switch. With a click, the equipped oil-gas lamp lit up. Chaoming was already curled up obediently in a corner.
After feeding Chaoming several sticks of nutrition paste, he descended into the cavern he had dug beneath the tent.
He had no intention of wasting time and planned to slash open a fissure for mental cultivation.
There was no Fumu or field monitoring here, and no one would bother him. Still, the Confluence was closer to the world on the other side, and it was hard to say what kind of anomalies might arise.
Considering the dangers of the Confluence, he would not have attempted this lightly if he could only open fissures. But now that he could mend them, he needed only to seal it promptly if things took a turn for the worse.
He sat down and regulated his breathing. Barely ten minutes had passed when he suddenly felt something crawling onto the tent outside, searching for an opening to slip inside.
At the same time, he sensed the entire patch of ground beneath him begin to flow, as though pushed forward by some colossal entity.
His gaze remained calm. Steeling his mind, he ignored the disturbances and concentrated on regulating his breath. After a while, having settled his condition, he picked up the Xuejun Saber and drew it from its scabbard, setting the sheath aside.
Holding the hilt steady for a moment, he slashed through the air in front of him. In an instant, a glowing fissure about the length of an arm opened before him.
At that moment, a draft of air rushed out from within. Piercing screeches suddenly echoed inside the tent, screaming right by his ears.
Moreover, he saw what appeared to be densely packed eye-like things on the other side of the fissure, sticking clammy against one another, rolling and turning intermittently.
His second self was also blurring rapidly into insubstantiality.
Chen Chuan stared across. In Center City, slashing open a fissure had mostly revealed illusory phantoms, but in the Confluence, these things seemed to possess tangible, physical form.
Curiously, he noticed that once these things emerged, the bizarre movement outside ceased entirely, leaving not a trace behind.
Sitting calmly before the fissure with the Xuejun Saber resting on his knees, he watched the horrors within and circulated his technique to absorb quintessence.
He had no need to know what those things were; if any attempted to cross over, he would cut them down instantly. And if he truly could not hold them back, he could seal such a small opening in a fraction of a second.
After cultivating for a while, he soon realized that the quintessence drawn from the fissure was far more abundant than in Center City—completely beyond ordinary comparison.
Furthermore, the fissure persisted for an exceptionally long time. When cultivating at sea, a fissure lasted around four hours. Today, four hours had passed, yet the fissure showed no signs of fading.
In contrast, however, the things on the other side had grown restless, beginning to probe and seep toward his side.
……
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Chapter 719