His voice burst forth like something from the depths of hell, and Zhao Ming felt a chill surge from his tailbone straight to the top of his head, freezing him to the core, rendering him speechless.
Nearby, the cheers of several boys suddenly stopped.
These fierce guys were frozen in place, as if caught by the throat like helpless ducks, completely at a loss.
Ding Sheng sneered, slowly sheathing his long sword.
Then, he suddenly turned and sprinted towards the garbage cliff.
It wasn't until his figure disappeared into the distant, hazy moonlight that Zhao Ming and his companions seemed to awaken from a dream, exchanging glances that reflected the chilling fear in their eyes, as if they had just experienced an unbelievable nightmare.
“Damn it, that little bastard…” Zhao Ming gasped, his eyes flashing with venom.
What the hell was going on today?
Why had that stupid, cowardly Ding Sheng suddenly turned so ruthless and decisive?
It was as if he had become a completely different person.
A rusty sword that seemed ready to break at any moment had become so terrifying in his hands?
Zhao Ming recalled the moment of their encounter, unable to shake the cold sweat from his brow.
He found it hard to believe that this "pig of the Sword Quest" had displayed swordsmanship that seemed even faster and more refined than the named disciples he knew from the Sword Quest Sect… But how could that be?
“Xing Ge, what should we do? Should we chase him?” One of his lackeys picked up the long sword that had been knocked away and asked.
“Chase? What the hell? Who can take him on if we catch up? Are we looking for a beating?” Zhao Ming was furious, taking the sword back and sheathing it.
“Huh? So… are we just letting it go?”
“Of course we can’t let it go. Let’s find someone to deal with him. A monk can run, but the temple can’t. Heh heh, if he dares to fight me, I’ll make him wish he were dead. Let’s go!” Zhao Ming's eyes glimmered with malice.
If he couldn’t win openly, he would resort to trickery.
He was not a person of great magnanimity.
Today, Ding Sheng had humiliated him in front of his subordinates, and he had to regain that humiliation a hundredfold.
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Having shaken off Zhao Ming and his gang, Ding Sheng quickly arrived at his destination.
This was a gently sloping stone forest, slanting down at a forty-five-degree angle, where garbage was dumped every day, sliding down to the bottomless cliff hundreds of meters below.
The chasm beneath the cliff was called the Abyss of the Earth.
The abyss churned with endless black mist, and fierce winds howled, sounding like the cries of ghosts, with a terrifying vacuum-like pull.
It was said to be the entrance to an underground demon world that had been abandoned for tens of thousands of years.
When the Sword Quest Sect was first established, they had taken great interest in this abyss and sent experts to investigate.
However, after losing a grandmaster-level powerhouse, three innate warriors, and dozens of martial masters in the abyss without return, the Sword Quest Sect ultimately abandoned the idea of further exploration.
Later, they simply declared this abyss a forbidden area, strictly prohibiting disciples from entering to explore.
Eventually, it became a dumping ground for the sect.
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For centuries, countless tons of garbage had been thrown into this abyss. The surrounding cliffs were also piled high with trash, which over time, sun, rain, and wind had turned into a stinking, rotting marsh, breeding toxic gases within a radius of hundreds of meters.
Many people from the slums had wandered in here, inhaled the toxic gas, and lost their lives.
Because of this, very few dared to enter the area now.
As for the lofty disciples of the Sword Quest Sect?
Their pride and sense of superiority wouldn’t allow them to deign to enter such a filthy place.
But the former Ding Sheng had been different; every night he scoured the dump for treasures. With some luck, he could find useful items to take home or sell at the free market, earning some money to support his family.
His straightforward character and bravery allowed him to venture where others wouldn’t, and he had actually found a safe route to the cliff’s edge, avoiding the poisonous gas and muddy traps.
That was why, before Ding Sheng, no one had discovered that on a raised platform hundreds of meters below the cliff, there were several extremely precious third-grade Yang-type spiritual herbs known as Dragon Heart Mysterious Grass.
In other places, these third-grade Dragon Heart Mysterious Grass would have been harvested long ago; there wouldn’t have been a chance for him to collect them.
In fact, Ding Sheng had stumbled upon the Dragon Heart Mysterious Grass two days prior.
This third-grade Yang-type spiritual herb was a great tonic for nourishing the body and improving the meridians.
If he could collect it, it would be enough to enhance Ding Sheng's physical quality significantly within fifteen days, improving his innate deficiencies in the meridians and allowing him to pass the Sword Quest Sect’s entrance test.
This was Ding Sheng’s last hope.
Following his memory, Ding Sheng soon reached the edge of the cliff.
He cautiously lay flat on the ground and peered over the edge.
Below, the black mist churned, and the chilling wind howled; he could faintly see a few red glimmers flickering in the depths of the abyss, indicating the location of the Dragon Heart Mysterious Grass.
Ding Sheng inhaled sharply.
This place was incredibly dangerous.
The black mist contained a strange suction force, making it extremely difficult to collect the spiritual herbs.
However, he had no other choice.
After a brief preparation, he secured one end of a makeshift rope to a rock at the cliff's edge and threw the other end over the edge. Judging the distance, Ding Sheng gritted his teeth, firmly grasped the rope, and slowly descended down the cliff.
“Damn it, what is this? Going down a cliff in the dead of night without a safety harness? If I slip, I’ll really become a pancake!”
Ding Sheng descended more than ten meters along the rope, feeling a wave of despair.
Little did he know, his ill-timed words would prove prophetic.
Before he could finish speaking, there was a sudden, sharp sound.
The seemingly sturdy rope snapped unexpectedly without warning.
Ding Sheng was terrified.
Before he could even look up, he felt his body lighten, and he plummeted like a shooting star.
The fall was so fast, it was as if he were a meteor crashing down.
Ding Sheng had no time to react; his body spun uncontrollably and crashed against a protruding rock on the cliff, blood gushing forth as intense pain shot through him, making him feel as though he were being torn apart.
In the darkness of the cliff platform, Ding Sheng's body fell like a broken doll, landing heavily on the jagged rocks, his blood quickly soaking into the surrounding soil. His consciousness gradually blurred amidst the excruciating pain, and the wind’s wailing around him mingled with the pounding of his heart. In this life-and-death moment, countless memories flashed through his mind, reminding him that he must never give up.
Instinctively, he struggled to open his eyes; despite his blurred vision, he could still see those few red glimmers swaying in the black mist, as if calling out to him. Those were the legendary Dragon Heart Mysterious Grass; if he could collect them, they would bring about a transformative change in his life. He forced himself to ignore the pain and crawled toward the glimmers, driven by an insatiable desire.
Every movement felt like it tore at his willpower; Ding Sheng gritted his teeth, the sweat and blood on his forehead mingling together. He used every ounce of strength to finally get closer to the spiritual herbs. Upon closer inspection, he saw their roots intertwined, seemingly growing from a hard crevice in the rock, making them difficult to pull out. However, Ding Sheng understood that time was of the essence; if he didn't act quickly, this opportunity would slip away.
He struggled to dig with his fingers, the mixture of blood and dirt filling the air with a nauseating smell. The suction force in the black mist remained strong, like an invisible hand constricting his throat, making it hard to breathe. Every struggle was a gamble with death. He knew he couldn’t give up; he absolutely couldn't let this chance disappear before his eyes.
In his relentless effort, Ding Sheng finally felt a hint of looseness. His heart surged with joy; he exerted all his strength and pulled the spiritual herb out by its roots. In that moment, the surrounding black mist seemed to cheer for him, but the pain was far from over. Just as he prepared to climb back to safety, violent tremors shook the rocks behind him, signaling the abyss's fury.
“Run!” he silently urged himself, but his body could no longer move. The terror of the abyss intertwined with his insignificance, as if warning him that the line between life and death was but a thin one. At that moment, Ding Sheng understood that this was not just a dangerous adventure, but a battle with fate itself. He had to use his belief to pry open this unimaginable abyss and welcome the dawn of the future.
But in the end, things did not go as planned; as the platform beneath Ding Sheng completely collapsed at the last moment, he tightly grasped the Dragon Heart Mysterious Grass and fell into the bottomless abyss along with it.