Bright light bloomed in the forest after nightfall. Chen Chuan's figure stood amidst that piercing glare, while all around him lay a darkness so thick it could not be dispersed.
Within it, countless twisted, invisible things seemed to churn and writhe, emitting all manner of eerie and bizarre sounds. Even the ground beneath seemed to have come alive, giving off heavy, stifled pants as if buckling under an unbearable weight.
Chen Chuan paid no heed to the disturbances, remaining wholly focused on the stance before him and guiding his breathing.
He had begun training in the afternoon and had not stopped even now.
This was his first time standing completely exposed in the Confluence wilderness at night, yet he felt no great discomfort. A martial artist's biological field, along with the Grand Radiant Light Forms he was practicing, could ward off both these external incursions and the meldings pressing in from the spiritual world.
However, under the influence of that other world, his energy consumption multiplied. Whenever he felt his energy running low, he would swallow a large chunk of rust honey and return to his practice. In any case, whatever he didn't eat here couldn't be carried away, so he used it without the slightest hesitation.
The surrounding swarm of rust bees continued to surge toward him relentlessly. Come nightfall, the insects grew even more vicious, yet it was futile. The gulf in their life orders left them entirely incomparable. As long as his biological field held and his spiritual power remained unexhausted, it was impossible for them to breach that outer layer of protection.
Thus, he made no deliberate effort to drive them away, devoting himself body and soul to his cultivation.
Around him, insect carcasses piled higher and higher on the ground, but soon, under the surge of the spiritual world, they dissolved into the darkness, turning into wisps of black smoke that vaguely threatened to coalesce into something. Yet the moment the radiance of the Grand Radiant Light Forms shone upon them, they melted away like snow beneath the sun.
Chaoming had descended from the sky before dusk. Right now, clutching a chunk of honey, it curled up under the shelter of his biological field, sleeping peacefully.
Amid the darkness and the chaotic nocturnal entanglements, his entire being resembled an inextinguishable torch, burning brighter and ever more dazzling.
It seemed as though a long time had passed, yet also as if only a moment had slipped by. The darkness enveloping him suddenly scattered, and a ray of daylight pierced through the trees, showering down from above.
Dawn had broken.
Chen Chuan paused slightly, then slowly came to a stop as the flickering light across his body gradually receded.
In the span of this night plus half a day, he had familiarized himself with more than half of one of the Grand Radiant Light Forms. He was confident he could master it in just a few more days—progress made possible entirely through the support of this high-energy honey.
Theoretically, as long as there was adequate energy replenishment and a martial artist's body could withstand the strain, their cultivation speed could become remarkably swift.
That he could endure was thanks to a foundation far deeper than that of other fighters at this stage, coupled with the effect of that incense burner relic, which made it easier for him to find the correct path in his cultivation.
The remaining rust bees vanished after daybreak, having likely given up, and not a single bee carcass was left on the ground.
He glanced at the nest not far away, which stood as tall as a colossal tree. Even after a night of nonstop consumption, he had only eaten through the lowest section. Rust honey had perhaps the longest shelf life of all high-energy foodstuffs; it was said that its nutrients would not dissipate even after a century or so.
However, he couldn't carry much back alone, and there might well be even better things ahead. Furthermore, he regarded this place as his hunting ground and had no intention of wiping it out entirely. After some thought, he carved out another portion of honey to stow in the gaps of his suitcase, intending to savor it slowly once he returned, and left the rest untouched.
He then called out to Chaoming, who had climbed into a tree. With a leap and a flap of its wings, Chaoming soared into the sky after a few beats, letting out a sharp chirp.
Picking up his suitcase and the Xuejun Saber, Chen Chuan continued deeper into the region.
Though he had cultivated through the entire night, the abundant nourishment left him feeling not at all exhausted, but exceptionally energized.
He had no fixed route for this trek, choosing his direction based on the terrain and water sources. After walking for more than three hours, he stepped into a range of hills. As soon as he arrived, he sensed something unusual.
It was far too quiet all around. Soon, he detected a lingering wisp of intensely violent spiritual power—it was precisely this presence that suppressed the surrounding creatures.
A creature possessing spiritual power?
Intriguing.
Tugging down the brim of his hat, he strode toward the source of the spiritual presence. Over half an hour later, he arrived at a mudflat. In a broad clearing, he spotted a creature with the body of a donkey and the head of a sheep.
It was massive, standing roughly three to four meters tall on all fours. Its hard, uncloven hooves were pure white. A bulge protruded from its forehead, and flanking its head were a pair of slightly curved, sharp horns. Beneath smooth, lustrous dark brown skin lay knotty, well-defined muscle.
This happened to be a creature documented in the compendium, known as a zhengyang. It possessed an exceptionally blunt and violent temperament, refusing to retreat even unto death when facing enemies, and fiercely guarded its territory. Moreover, it virtually had no natural predators in the early sections of the Confluence.
The present situation indeed matched the records. Along the way here, many creatures had fled of their own accord upon sensing his field. At times, to seek out valuable beasts, he had deliberately reined in his field. Yet this creature refused to budge even after clearly detecting his field. Instead, it spread its front legs slightly, lowered its head, angled its horns forward, and snorted abnormally scorching breath from its nostrils, assuming an offensive posture.
Seeing the beast charge at him of its own accord, he chose to grant its wish. Stepping aside, he delivered a light punch to the side of its neck. A burst of jin instantly penetrated its body. After stumbling forward a few paces, the creature crashed to its knees. Coughing up a few mouthfuls of blood, it collapsed to the side, completely bereft of breath.
Chen Chuan walked up to the zhengyang and reached out to touch the bulge on its forehead. The most vital part of this creature was this mass of mutated tissue atop its head—the very source where its spirit converged.
Tightening his five fingers, he gouged it out and tore away the thin membrane covering it, revealing slender, fibrous strips of white meat within.
Eating every strip of the white meat, light spilled uncontrollably from his eyes, flashing several times before subsiding.
He clenched his fist and took stock of his state. An endless warm current surged through every part of his body. Consuming this tissue not only brought tremendous benefits to his physique, but also provided a measure of nourishment to his spirit.
First and foremost, this was because the ingredient was fresh, consumed immediately upon harvesting without any loss of nutrition. Secondly, the creature's own life order was exceedingly high—just a hair's breadth away from that of a martial artist. Its spirit had already begun contacting that other world and growing instinctively, which was why such tissue had formed on its forehead.
Because most Confluence creatures had no idea how to properly harness such power, blindly stacking and accumulating it until reaching a qualitative transformation one day, high-energy nutrients and substances beneficial to martial artists became extraordinarily concentrated within them.
Consuming this tissue was equivalent to ten days' worth of normal consumption, even by his demanding standards.
Unfortunately, due to their temperament, such creatures were naturally scarce, and those that managed to grow to this stage were rarer still. According to the compendium, martial artists hunted them down almost as soon as they appeared. It was only because this region had hardly ever been used as a hunting ground by martial artists that he had crossed paths with one today.
He thought to himself that coming here had indeed been the right choice.
Looking at the zhengyang again, he had another thought. Drawing his short blade, he carved off the pair of horns. The compendium noted that certain martial artists were fond of collecting them and were even willing to trade mutated tissue or foodstuffs for them, so he decided to take them along as well.
After strapping them securely to his suitcase, he looked toward the foot of the hills. Well then... time to find the next target.
Descending from the hills and walking for over an hour, he noticed the surrounding vegetation growing sparser, and living creatures becoming increasingly scarce.
This was highly abnormal. Under ordinary circumstances, living things in the Confluence grew with wild abandon.
Right then, an exceptionally fragrant scent reached his nose. Following the aroma forward, he saw earthen mounds roughly three to four meters tall, sprawling out to fill almost his entire field of view, the fragrance so rich it was practically tangible.
Inside the mounds lay heaps of plump, snow-white granules resembling grains of rice. Though they looked like grain, they were actually ant eggs—an extraordinarily nutritious foodstuff.
Because they were difficult to preserve, martial artists were usually served only a small plateful at a time, yet here they covered the ground everywhere.
For ordinary creatures, these things were actually very difficult to digest. Once ingested, the eggs would hatch inside the creature, and the larvae would feed on the host and its mutated tissue to grow. Upon reaching maturity, they would burst forth from the body and go on to lay more eggs.
Without some form of control or creatures capable of digesting the eggs, they would eventually turn this entire region into a nesting ground for breeding more ant eggs.
However, absorbing them posed no problem whatsoever for a martial artist. To him, this place was practically a granary.
Moreover, they tasted delicious—soft, chewy, and sweet. When paired with other ingredients, their nutritional value was brought out even further upon absorption. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been specifically singled out as food fit for martial artists.
However, efficiency was paramount during his expedition here; there was no need to eat them mouthful by mouthful. With a shift of his biological field, all the ant eggs within range floated up, shattered instantly into wisps of white mist, converged toward him, and merged into his body.
...
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Chapter 880