Ahead of the blasted gouge, gusts of displaced air rushed back in, kicking up clouds of blinding grit and dust from the ground.
What had once been dense forest was now reduced to a barren expanse after the fierce battle, leaving nothing visible except grayish-white soil.
Even the native creatures of the Confluence had fled in terror during Chen Chuan's clash with the yaogui, none daring to linger anywhere near.
And predictably, with the residual spiritual power and fields left behind by both combatants, it would likely be a very long time before any Confluence creatures bred or thrived here again.
Chen Chuan stood quietly for a moment as the swirling, dancing lights across his body gradually receded.
Although he had expended a great deal of energy during the fight, he had consumed half a month's worth of food ingredients in one sitting beforehand—calculated based on the assumption that the battle might drag on for an entire day. As a result, a steady stream of power was still releasing from his mutated tissue.
Just then, sensing something, he turned his gaze toward a certain spot. The sand churned, and a crimson object surfaced from beneath, drifting slowly toward him.
It resembled a heart in appearance, yet it was definitely not formed from any mutated tissue; not a trace of the Flame of Spirituality or spiritual power remained upon it.
He didn't know what it was, but for it to survive the spiritual impact intact was proof enough that it was no ordinary item. Besides, he sensed nothing amiss from it.
After a thought, he reached out, took hold of it, and slipped it into the pocket of his overshirt, intending to examine it more closely once he returned.
Turning away, he walked over to the mace planted in the ground and pulled it free with one hand.
The weapon was composed entirely of the yaogui's specialized mutated tissue. Its four edges were not sharp, yet even in his grip, it felt notably heavy.
Aside from its actual physical heft, this was also because his mutated tissue and Flame of Spirituality had no way to communicate with it.
So far, among all the mutated weapons he had acquired, not one was as unique or reached as high a tier as this piece.
After all, it had likely formed from the mutated tissue of a martial artist at the Longevity View tier, who then transformed into a mutated yaogui—making it exceedingly rare. Such a collectible brought him genuine satisfaction.
The battle just now had been the most perilous of his life so far. In particular, during the clash against its earlier form, the power of its Visage of the Aberrant was overwhelmingly insurmountable; a single mistake could have resulted in him being pounded to death by that hammer.
As for when the creature subsequently relinquished its raw mass and power, had Chen Chuan not been a member of the Purist Faction versed in its secret arts, victory would have been far from certain. In truth, under normal circumstances, that second form was even more dangerous. When the monster was colossal, Chen Chuan had the advantage in speed—if he couldn't win, he could at least flee. But once the yaogui gained comparable speed, escaping was out of the question; losing momentum even once meant total defeat.
Furthermore, during their brief exchange in that form, he noticed that the yaogui's moves and rhythm were growing increasingly seasoned. Battling in a normal-sized body was very likely rekindling its innate combat instincts through the clash. Had the fight dragged on, an exceptionally formidable adversary might have fully emerged.
If he hadn't killed it today, then once night fell and another day passed, it might have fully restored itself—and as an opponent whose past combat prowess had partially returned, making it all the harder to deal with.
At that moment, a chirp sounded overhead. Chaoming flapped its wings and descended to land beside him. Sensing the lingering aura of the yaogui, the bird seemed somewhat uneasy. Chen Chuan reached out and stroked its head, soothing it.
He then turned and walked back to where he had left his luggage. Picking up his trunk, he glanced into the distance and continued deeper into the forest.
With this yaogui eliminated, there should be nothing left capable of impeding him here. The entire region would now serve as his hunting ground.
Because of the yaogui's presence, martial artists had likely not explored this area for a very long time—at least a century, by conservative estimates.
A yaogui evidently had little need for living organisms, so across such a long span of time, who knew how many rare species, nowhere else to be found, had flourished in this part of the Confluence? In a sense, he had the yaogui to thank for guarding this domain so thoroughly.
Moreover, he figured there had to be something where the yaogui had made its lair; otherwise, it would have had no reason to remain anchored there.
It was just that upon their first encounter, he had chosen to retreat first, leaving no opportunity for closer inspection.
There was no rush, however. A place where the yaogui had lingered for so long was undoubtedly its established territory. Nothing would dare intrude lightly, or the yaogui wouldn't have felt at ease leaving it behind.
Along the way, he continued following the rivers and terrain. When night arrived, he used the Confluence's night to continue practicing the secret art as before. By the next day, his shattered Second Self had re-formed.
This clash with an unprecedentedly powerful foe, driven especially by a life-or-death crisis, had allowed his Second Self to undergo significant growth, advancing by a substantial stride. It was now not far from the Fourth Limit. If all went smoothly, mastering a few more grand forms should be enough to approach that boundary.
Yet judging by his past experience with the third limit, fully crossing over would likely require a certain degree of stimulus and resonance.
Still, there was no need to dwell on that just yet. His current focus remained hunting and cultivation. In the Confluence, anything could happen. He still had some time to spend here; who could say when that opportunity might present itself?
After traveling for another day, he arrived back at the spot where he had first encountered the yaogui. Surveying the surroundings, he strode forward until he reached the position where the yaogui had originally sat.
It was a low earthen knoll. The vantage point was not particularly good, though to a creature of the yaogui's towering height, that might not have mattered. If there was something here, it had to be within its line of sight and easily reachable at a moment's notice.
He sent Chaoming into the sky to help scan and search the surroundings.
Chaoming quickly found something. Emitting a chirp down toward him, it circled twice in the air before flying toward a specific direction.
Chen Chuan immediately descended the knoll and followed after it. After traveling a little over two li, he noticed that the lush forest abruptly thinned out. Most of the trees were stunted and withered, as though something had drained away all the nutrients they needed to survive.
Walking a bit farther, the scene ahead came into view: an enclosure bordered by thick, chiseled stone walls.
There was a massive gap in this wall-like enclosure. Overhead, Chaoming cried out once more. Chen Chuan walked in through the opening and saw a dense, sprawling network of roots completely exposed on the surface of the ground. At the very center stood something shaped like a lotus seedpod.
Its exterior was as solid and heavy as grayish-white stone; just looking at it, one would think it had been carved from rock.
Is this... a Nine-Aperture Stone Lotus?
Chen Chuan couldn't help taking a few steps forward. This was documented in the Martial Arts Council's compendium, positioned fairly near the front—an exceptionally rare Confluence plant.
The Nine-Aperture Stone Lotus, also known as the "Dry Lotus," had no fixed habitat. It only emerged under very specific conditions and environments. To this day, nearly everyone who had come across one had done so by chance rather than deliberate search.
The seeds of the stone lotus possessed an immense capacity to strengthen mutated tissue; the more robust one's mutated tissue already was, the more pronounced the effect.
Even more remarkably, the seeds contained an extremely unique inhibitory substance: if the growth of mutated tissue exceeded the limit of what the host's body could bear, the growth would halt.
It could be called a nutrient with virtually zero side effects. It could even be combined with other potent catalytic agents to drastically reduce the risks fighters faced during their cultivation. As such, pharmaceutical companies across the world were always willing to pay exorbitant sums to acquire it.
Because its efficacy was so extraordinary, it was prized not only by humans, but by Confluence creatures as well. Consequently, whenever one appeared in the past, surrounding beasts would devour it immediately, leaving nothing behind. Even if humans discovered one, they would harvest it on the spot, leaving virtually no opportunity for it to reach full maturity.
At this thought, a possibility crossed his mind. He stepped up in front of the stone lotus and looked down onto the top of the seedpod. His eyes lit up. Neatly arranged across the surface were seven lotus hearts.
It was actually a rare Seven-Heart Lotus!
The more seeds a Nine-Aperture Stone Lotus bore, the greater its potency. In theory, it could produce up to nine seeds, but ordinary stone lotuses never had the chance to develop that far. That this one had grown to seven hearts was undoubtedly thanks to the yaogui guarding it.
Furthermore, at this stage of growth, the plant had also become exceedingly dangerous—no longer the harmless flora it once was. As he approached, the broad lotus leaves nearby stirred slightly, revealing serrated edges. Any ordinary Confluence creature that drew near would now only serve as its nourishment.
However, his biological field was more than enough to deter it. Moreover, having slain the yaogui merely two days ago, the surging aura from that victory had not dissipated. The stone lotus sensed this, which was why it behaved so docilely.
He gazed at the seeds. Such an extraordinary treasure was not to be missed, yet harvesting them would not be simple...
As the thought crossed his mind, his eyes inadvertently drifted toward the distance. In the spaces between the vines creeping over a large boulder opposite him, there appeared to be writing carved into the stone. Judging by the residual spiritual power clinging to them, the yaogui seemed to have left these markings behind.
After a moment of contemplation, he set aside the matter of the stone lotus for now and turned to walk over.
Chapter 886