The path grew narrower as Tao and Jian pressed deeper into the forest. The air was heavy, thick with the cloying scent of damp earth. They had been walking for hours. The trees loomed taller here, their gnarled branches interwoven like a cage that blocked out the sky. What little sunlight seeped through the canopy came in fractured beams, casting shifting patterns on the ground that made every shadow seem alive.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Jian muttered, his voice low as his hand hovered near his sword.

They hadn’t walked much farther when the ground beneath them shifted. A subtle tremor ran through the earth, followed by a deep, guttural groan that seemed to echo from the forest itself.

“Move!” Tao shouted, leaping to the side just as the earth split open.

Roots burst from the ground sending the earth upwards in a shower of soil and dead leaves, The roots writhing like serpents. They coiled and snapped, one of them lashing out toward Jian, who barely managed to parry it with his sword. The roots oozed a thick, black sap that hissed and smoked where it touched the ground.

“A trap?” Jian asked, his voice strained as he slashed at another root.

“No,” Tao said, his mind racing. “It’s alive.”

The ground itself was attacking. Tao’s Qi flared as he activated the Nurturing Cycle Root Technique, directing his energy toward the writhing roots. His intent wasn’t to nourish but to disrupt, forcing his Qi into the chaotic flow of the roots’ energy. The roots hesitated, their movements faltering as they recoiled slightly.

“It’s working,” he muttered, though the strain was immense. His Qi felt like a fragile thread being pulled taut against the forest’s overwhelming force.

“Keep at it,” Jian said, darting forward to slice through the weakened roots.

After what felt like an eternity, the roots retreated, sinking back into the ground as the forest grew still once more. Tao collapsed to one knee, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“What was that?” Jian asked, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of further danger.

“I don’t know,” Tao admitted, his voice hoarse. “But I hope we don’t encounter it again.”

They moved cautiously after that, every step deliberate as they wound through the labyrinthine forest. The terrain shifted constantly, one moment, they were walking through dense underbrush, the next, they were wading through knee deep water that reeked of decay.

Tao’s mind raced as he considered their situation. His Nurturing Cycle Root Technique had disrupted the roots, but the effort had drained him. Could he adapt the technique further, perhaps to manipulate the forest instead of just resisting it? The idea was tempting but dangerous. The forest’s energy was wild and chaotic, unlike the orderly Qi of cultivated plants. He was also glad that Jian hadn’t asked him about the technique, he had initially planned on developing it in secret, but survival was the priority.

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“Jian,” Tao said as they reached a dry patch of ground, “we need to rest. I need to recover my Qi.”

Jian nodded, though his expression was wary. “Fine. But not here. We need higher ground.”

They eventually found a small rise, a rocky outcrop overlooking a shallow ravine. It wasn’t ideal, but it offered some visibility. Tao activated a Beast Repelling Array, the stones glowing faintly as the barrier formed around them.

As night fell, the forest seemed to come alive with sound. The distant howls of wolves mingled with the chirping of unseen insects and the low, mournful calls of something deeper in the Wilds.

Tao sat cross legged, his hands resting on his knees as he entered a meditative state. The faint traces of Qi from the surrounding plants seeped into him, slow and unsteady. He focused on the Nurturing Cycle Root Technique, experimenting with small adjustments to its flow.

He extended his Qi outward, touching the roots of a nearby tree. Instead of forcing his energy into it, he tried to mimic the tree’s chaotic rhythm, syncing his Qi with its natural flow. The result was subtle but promising, the tree’s branches shifted slightly, its energy aligning briefly with his own.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Tao muttered under his breath.

“What worked?” Jian asked, his eyes still scanning the darkness beyond the barrier.

“Nothing,” Tao said quickly, not ready to share his experimentation.

The night passed uneventfully, though neither of them slept deeply. By morning, the forest was cloaked in mist, the air thick and damp. They moved cautiously; the visibility reduced to a few paces ahead.

As they descended into the ravine, the mist grew thicker, its green hue shimmering faintly in the dim light. Tao’s stomach twisted as a low hiss echoed through the ravine. Slowly, a large, elongated shape emerged from the fog.

The Verdant Serpent coiled around an ancient tree, its emerald scales shimmering like polished jade. Dark streaks of venom dripped from its fangs. Its eyes glowed with an eerie intelligence, fixed on Tao and Jian as if already calculating its next move.

“It’s a Verdant Serpent,” Tao whispered, his voice barely audible.

Jian’s grip on his sword tightened. “How strong is it?”

“Mid-tier Spirit Beast,” Tao replied, swallowing hard. “Around the 3rd or 4th stage of Qi Condensation. Too strong to fight directly.”

The serpent uncoiled slightly, its body rippling with power. The air around it seemed to vibrate, the thick mist suffocating and corrosive. Tao could feel his Qi struggling against the oppressive energy.

Tao focused his Qi, directing it into the thorny vines growing nearby. The effort left his head spinning, but the vines responded, creeping toward the serpent like living tendrils.

The Verdant Serpent hissed, its head snapping toward the movement. It lashed out, its fangs piercing the vines, releasing a spray of venom that withered the plants instantly. But Tao didn’t stop. He guided the remaining vines, weaving them around the serpent’s body.

The creature thrashed, its tail smashing into the ground. The vines tightened, their thorns digging into its scales.

“Now!” Tao shouted, grabbing Jian’s arm as they both activated their movement technique, momentarily disappearing from sight.

“The serpent roared, venom dripping from its mouth as it writhed against the entangling vines. It lunged toward them, but the vines held firm for a precious moment, giving Tao and Jian the time they needed to escape.

By the time they stopped, they were both gasping for breath. Tao leaned against a tree, his vision swimming from exhaustion.

“We can’t keep this up,” Jian said, his tone grim.

“We don’t have a choice,” Tao replied. “The Black Hollow Forest is still ahead.”