Years ago, after people fled in droves northward, the term "South" became limited to the area south of the Ancientmic River and north of the Mangling Mountains. For the land south of the Mangling Mountains had become a realm solely inhabited by mountain spirits and monsters. While the north side of the mountains was sparsely populated, it was still inhabited by humans. Henceforth, the land south of the Mangling Mountains was gradually referred to as South-starlic, meaning it was beyond the bounds of human territory. And not far south of the Mangling Mountains lay the now-famous Soul-Lost Mountain!
Zong Daoyi stood on the small path of Soul-Lost Mountain, with the young Gongsun Liang by his side. The wind howled, carrying dust particles that stung their faces. Along the way, Gongsun Liang had seen only rolling hills, verdant trees, and blooming flowers, but here the scenery abruptly changed. All around were jagged peaks and grotesque boulders, gray rocks and yellow sand everywhere. The wind at the mountain pass was fierce, and when it blew, the dust was quickly whipped up, dancing and swirling in the air. The gale sliced through the edges of the boulders, emitting a wailing sound, like the unwilling cries of countless spirits from the past, day and night.
Standing in front of a huge boulder, Zong Daoyi reached out and gently traced the rough texture, as if deciphering the mysterious hints left by the ages. Had his former master, Di Lang, once leaped from this boulder, swinging his invincible fists in the epic battle against the Three Lost Souls? Perhaps every grain of sand, every rock, and even everything here had witnessed that tragic scene of the past.
Gongsun Liang looked up at the old man before him and suddenly saw a trace of nostalgia, or perhaps longing, on his face. Gongsun Liang didn't disturb him and instead turned his attention to the surrounding scenery. As he looked around, his mood began to darken. Gazing at the gray and yellow landscape, Gongsun Liang suddenly felt homesick. What was his mother doing now? Was she sitting at the entrance of their yard, mending clothes as usual? Or was she busy in the kitchen, preparing delicious food, waiting for him to return? A wave of sadness washed over him. Already having tasted the bitterness of separation at such a young age, Gongsun Liang dared not think further and quickly composed himself. Just then, he noticed that Zong Daoyi's gaze had turned to him. Both men had their own thoughts, but neither spoke. After a moment of silence, they finally collected their emotions and embarked on the journey to South-starlic.
The two had traveled along bustling, well-traveled roads, never feeling lonely with the constant flow of pedestrians. But once they crossed the Yingzu River, the crowd thinned significantly. After the Mangling Mountains, they hardly saw a soul for hours, sometimes encountering only a cargo wagon after three days of walking. Truth be told, South-starlic had been sparsely populated since a catastrophe years ago. Even those who transported necessities did so with great trepidation, as traveling through South-starlic was a gamble with one's life. Unless the price was exorbitant, few were willing to take on such a risky journey, preferring to travel other, safer routes twice over. This remained the case even after the arrival of the great sorcerer Di Lang.
Over time, the monsters of South-starlic had grown in power, even Di Lang could not shake their hold over this abyss of creatures. However, after he slew the powerful South-starlic Lost Souls, the monsters seemed to have reached a tacit agreement, no longer daring to harm humans in the daylight. Even their activities were mostly confined to areas far from human settlements. Thus, with Di Lang's presence, people found a steadfast faith in their hearts. Di Lang, like a lofty and invincible symbol, was deeply imprinted in their minds.
After Soul-Lost Mountain, there were no more wide roads. Ahead lay a stretch of hills, covered with grayish-white rocks and yellowish sand. Zong Daoyi and Gongsun Liang walked slowly and with difficulty, sometimes having to detour around a huge boulder when a path seemed close ahead, or finding another steeper hill awaiting them just after climbing one. The journey was exhausting, but for Zong Daoyi, a cultivator of the Tao, such distances were nothing. However, for the six-year-old Gongsun Liang, it was a grueling ordeal.
Fortunately, the journey was not too long. After three days, the landscape began to change again. The surrounding gray rocks and yellow sand remained, but in the distance, beyond the horizon, a dense, deep green emerged. The mountains in the distance rose and fell in waves, like countless dragons intertwined and undulating, exuding a profound blue hue amidst their grandeur.
Upon seeing that intense, profound blue, Zong Daoyi took a deep breath. He knew they had arrived at the Enchanted Forest, the most mysterious and feared place in the entire Starlic Continent.
Zong Daoyi turned his gaze upon Gongsun Liang, noting the sweat-stained and weathered features of his companion. A tender compassion arose within him, and he reached into his bosom, withdrawing a handkerchief. Crouching low, he gently wiped Gongsun Liang's face from top to bottom. From his backpack, he produced a waterskin and the dried provisions they had purchased in the last human hamlet north of the Mangling Mountains. In truth, there was no urgency in their journey; Zong Daoyi had waited six long years, why rush now?
Yet, the arid climate of the Soul-Lost Mountain region was punishing, with the sun blazing down mercilessly upon the rocky, sandy terrain, making travel arduous. The slower they moved, the greater the toll on their bodies. Moreover, the Soul-Lost Mountain was deserted, with even the monsters of South-starlic having fled after the demise of the Three Lost Souls. Food was scarce, and a sluggish pace would only exacerbate the problem. Zong Daoyi also saw this as an opportunity to temper Gongsun Liang's patience and perseverance. Hardship was a forge for character, and he let Gongsun Liang set his own pace, following silently behind.
Oddly, Gongsun Liang seemed unaffected by the fierce sun, maintaining a steady pace. Occasionally, he would suggest a break, during which they would engage in a game of rope flipping. Days passed, and Zong Daoyi marveled at the progress in Gongsun Liang's rope-flipping skills. Once, Gongsun Liang even managed to create a new pattern from an apparently hopeless situation, turning the tide of the game, much to Zong Daoyi's astonishment. Through his perception of qi, Zong Daoyi gradually noticed that Gongsun Liang's internal energy had transformed into a gentle stream, flowing smoothly through his meridians.
Yet Zong Daoyi was only aware of a fraction of the truth. How could a child like Gongsun Liang, who had only been learning rope flipping for over a month, achieve such remarkable progress in his internal energy? Talent was indeed a factor, but more importantly, since his birth, Gongsun Liang had been nurtured by his grandmother, a master of cultivation techniques. Daily, she used special methods to massage his infant body and carefully circulated her own gentle innate qi through his meridians. By the time he turned three and began to understand things, Gongsun's grandmother taught him a few simple exercises, which became his evening routine - chopping wood. Similar to Zong Daoyi's rope flipping, this daily task not only strengthened Gongsun Liang's young body but also had a remarkable effect on cultivating his qi and nourishing his spirit. After chopping wood, Gongsun Liang would sit by the well, feeling invigorated and comfortable, a sign that his qi cultivation was beginning to bear fruit. It was this foundation that allowed him to persevere on their journey, his spirit growing stronger with each step.
After Gongsun Liang finished his dry provisions and rested for a bit, the two slowly rose and continued on the barely discernible path. Truth be told, Zong Daoyi needn't have gone through such trouble escorting Gongsun Liang on this stretch. After all, Master Zong Daoyi was nearly a deity, capable of flight with ease. But he saw this journey as Gongsun Liang's initial training in the ways of the immortals. Plus, flight was a drain on one's spiritual essence. Even though Lieyu Mountain wasn't far from South-starlic, it would still take days to reach, not to mention the treacherous journey through the Mangling Mountains, the enigmatic Enchanted Forest, the nightmare swamp, and finally the Red Rock Pass. The road ahead was long and treacherous, and Zong Daoyi had to be at his peak to face any unknown threats.
A misty haze rose and slowly enveloped the forests. Zong Daoyi led Gongsun Liang cautiously to the fringes of the Enchanted Forest. Suddenly, a patch of tall grass, without any apparent wind, began to shake violently, extending in a straight line. After a moment, the shaking stopped, and a small white-eared beast peeked out from a hill, its gaze alert as it watched the approaching pair.
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Gongsun Liang broke out in a cold sweat. Ever since catching sight of the dense forest, he'd felt a sense of unease, as if something ominous awaited them. His nerves were on edge, and even a common pine beast at the forest's edge startled him. He clung to Zong Daoyi's heels, feeling that was the only safe haven.
The beast dashed off and paused, its ears twitching as it listened. Then, it scurried off in another direction. Zong Daoyi smiled and turned to Gongsun Liang, still looking shaken. He began to regale him with tales of the Enchanted Forest's exotic creatures and legends. As they walked and talked, they delved deeper into the ancient, towering forest.
The original path was now overgrown with wild grass and shrubs. The villages and houses had decayed, their former beauty lost. Tall grass grew within the ruins, piercing the roofs and reaching towards the sky. Birds and unknown creatures had taken over the once-thriving human settlements. The once bustling towns had transformed into vast, lush forests, with only the occasional peek of a roof tile or a stone path hinting at their former grandeur.
White-eared pine and beasts flitted past periodically, fleeing towards the distance with unnatural speed. Occasionally, a flock or a few brightly colored, extravagant birds would flutter up from the dense shade beneath the branches, floating like clouds in the sky before gliding swiftly away. Only their intermittent calls remained, hinting at their fleeting presence.
The forest floor was a mosaic of rare trees like charred phosphorus wood, flowering blossoms, firs, and green crocodile bark, among others. This ancient forest was teeming with life, from the canopy high above to the ground below. Layers of decaying branches and leaves were piled up, and amidst these ruins, fungi and ferns cautiously struggled to grow. Above them, shrubbery half the height of a man and low, lush grasses dominated the landscape. Many of the shrubs were prickly, and they bloomed with unnamed flowers in a riot of colors, attracting a swarm of insects. The grasses were so robust that some grew as tall as small trees. The air was damp and faintly carried the scent of decay, slightly warm and slightly suffocating. Gongsun Liang's face soon began to bead with sweat, and Zong Daoyi periodically reached out with a handkerchief to gently wipe it away.
The roots of the trees were a tangled mess, and the branches overhead wove together in a intricate pattern. Occasionally, a breeze would sweep through the trees, and the leaves would cheer, emitting a sound like rolling waves. The falling dewdrops were like a gentle rain, bringing a slight chill to the forest.
The trunks of the trees were covered with deep green and tawny moss, clinging tightly to the bark as they silently claimed their territory. The branches overhead were stubbornly intertwined, some even pressed tightly together. Over time, the dust that settled between the crowded branches and leaves accumulated, and in some places, new saplings began to sprout.
Amidst the dense foliage, countless bird nests were hidden. As other creatures neared, the nesting birds would be startled into flight. From the depths of the forest, the occasional low growl echoed, and large shadows moved in and out of the sunlit gaps. The smaller beasts passing by grew more numerous, and occasionally, one could glimpse larger creatures like the fierce lynx and the armored green lizard.
After half a day's journey, Gongsun Liang, with his youthful body, despite its remarkable resilience, felt the fatigue creeping in. The two found a slightly flattened patch of ground and sat down, resting and munching on some food. Suddenly, a blue antelope leaped in front of them, vanishing in the blink of an eye. Shortly after, several more blue antelopes dashed by, followed by pine beasts, green phantasm armors, spotted dragon lizards, and fierce leopards, all scurrying away as if fleeing something. Zong Daoyi quickly gathered their belongings and, seeing that Gongsun Liang had eaten his fill, gently lifted him and they gracefully leaped onto a tree branch.
It was the first time in Gongsun Liang's life that he was flying in the sky, held by someone. Looking down, he felt a dizzying sensation and quickly closed his eyes. But, drawing from his previous experience hovering near the lake, he soon regained his composure and peeked down again. More and more small beasts were running from the front, and amidst them, larger monsters appeared, occasionally accompanied by a few gigantic stone rhinos. All the beasts converged into a surging mass, hurriedly fleeing to the distance.
Zong Daoyi placed Gongsun Liang securely on a large tree fork, while he hovered on a fluttering branch mid-air, his eyes focused in the direction from whence the beasts came. In the distance, countless庞大的 shadows moved swiftly under the dense canopy of trees, trampling and crushing the surrounding foliage. From afar, a rolling wave of beasts surged towards them, and further away, a vast clearing appeared amidst the towering trees, as all the foliage was swept up and thrown around. Branches, leaves, and muddy roots flew through the air, and faintly, a low and ominous roar could be heard.
The roar grew louder, and within half an hour, it was upon them. A hulking monster, towering four hundred feet tall, barreled through countless saplings and shrubs. Its jaws gaped open, revealing pale teeth, and viscous saliva dripped from its maw. Zong Daoyi felt a sense of unease. This Sword-scythe Beast seemed unusually agitated, almost as if it were enraged. Typically, Sword-scythe Beasts, despite their immense size and power, were relatively docile, rarely displaying such behavior. The beast's glossy black armor seemed impervious to the sharp thorns of the shrubs, as it barreled through without restraint. Its copper-bell eyes radiated a mixture of anger and a hint of panic.
As Zong Daoyi stood perplexed, a burst of flame suddenly erupted from behind the Sword-scythe Beast. The fiery blaze, red with a hint of blue, surged forward with unrelenting fury, igniting the monster's immense tail tip in an instant. The Sword-scythe Beast let out a deafening roar, like a thunderclap in the sky, causing Gongsun Liang to stumble on the tree branch, almost falling to his doom. Quickly regaining his balance, he clung tightly to a protruding branch, dangling precariously in mid-air. Zong Daoyi, engrossed in the unfolding chaos in the forest, momentarily forgot about Gongsun Liang and failed to notice his perilous position. Gongsun Liang's cries were drowned out by the Sword-scythe Beast's thunderous roar.
The Sword-scythe Beast, enraged by the burning pain, swung its tail and slashed with its huge, scythe-like forelimbs, sending trees, vines, and leaves flying into the air. Its eyes gradually revealed a murderous glint, and any small animals that ventured near were either stunned by its roar or slashed by its blade-like limbs or swept away by its powerful tail. Meanwhile, the flame seemed to possess a strange intelligence, always trailing the Sword-scythe Beast's tail. Whenever the tail paused, the flame would promptly erupt and consume it. The monster's huge body rampaged through the forest, and after a prolonged struggle, its roar gradually subsided as its strength waned. Finally, it settled down to rest.
At this moment, Zong Daoyi caught sight of a creature silently emerging from behind the Sword-scythe Beast's line of sight. It stood about five feet long and less than four feet wide, with pointed ears and a gaping maw that occupied a quarter of its body length. Its fangs protruded from its lips, and its black mane stood erect on its back. Two small, red-tinged eyes stared intently at the Sword-scythe Beast.
"Flame-pig!" Zong Daoyi muttered in surprise. Although there were many monster species in the Enchanted Forest, such as the Sword-scythe Beast and the fierce leopard, the Flame-pig was a rarity. These creatures were extremely intelligent, sometimes even outwitting fox spirits. They possessed a strong sense of perception, allowing them to anticipate danger and flee in advance. Moreover, the Flame-pig population was scarce, with only a few individuals scattered throughout the South-starlic realm. However, their offensive capabilities were formidable, especially their ability to spit out blazing flames. As carnivores, they were natural predators to many creatures.
The Flame-pig crept silently out from the dense woods behind the Sword-scythe Beast, inching closer and closer. It halted after a bit, suddenly turning its head to peer at the tree branch where Zong Daoyi perched, its pointed ears twitching rapidly. Zong Daoyi couldn't help but chuckle; the pig was certainly cautious. After a considerable pause, seemingly satisfied that Zong Daoyi posed no threat, the Flame-pig resumed its advance towards the Sword-scythe Beast.
When the Flame-pig neared within half a foot, it suddenly gaped its maw wide, a low rumble emanating from its belly. A stream of red-tinged, nearly transparent light shot out, causing the Sword-scythe Beast to let out a shrill shriek and leap from the ground. Its tail lashed violently, flattening countless weeds and shrubs, and a strong scent of burning carried on the wind.
Remarkably, the Flame-pig launched itself from the ground, bounding over a yard in the air and landing squarely on the Sword-scythe Beast's broad back!
The Sword-scythe Beast was both startled and enraged, swinging its tail wildly in an attempt to dislodge the Flame-pig. But once the Flame-pig had latched onto a fleshy protrusion on the Beast's back with its jaws, it was as if the Beast had no defense against the Flame-pig's sharp teeth. The intense tearing pain, coupled with the lingering agony from the earlier fire, drove the Sword-scythe Beast to madness.
Zong Daoyi watched with interest, having no intention of aiding the Sword-scythe Beast. Such was the way of the Enchanted Forest, where the strong preyed on the weak. Even in the realm of cultivators, the truth was not much different.
The Sword-scythe Beast continued to lash out with its tail, suddenly swinging it behind itself and accidentally striking the small branch where Gongsun Liang had been perched. With a sharp crack, the branch broke, and Gongsun Liang fell like a kite with a severed string.