Chapter Seventy-Two: First Encounter

A chilling wind howled through the land, carrying with it the aftermath of raging flames. Even the trees stood as blackened husks, charred and fragile, as though a gentle pinch would reduce them to dust. This was the road to hell itself.

Such was the feeling one received upon entering Ghost Valley. Though it was the same sky above, here it was shrouded in utter darkness, the biting wind laden with an uncanny chill that seeped into one's bones. A peculiar power seemed to cling to the body, like a parasite that refused to let go.

Those adept in spiritual energy could easily dispel this power, so it drew little attention. But Shen Qingyun had noticed it the very first step he took into Ghost Valley.

The force within this valley was identical to the one he had sensed that day. Even if faint, the sensation was unmistakable—enough to unsettle his very spirit.

"Let’s move out!" Shen Qingyun exhaled softly, issuing the command.

As this was everyone’s first time entering, after a brief spell of tension, they began to take in their surroundings.

"It really does feel like we’ve entered another world," a disciple sighed, shivering as the cold wind slipped down his collar, "No wonder it's called Ghost Valley. The name couldn't be more fitting."

Suddenly, a massive shadow moved in the distance, dragging its hulking shape through the darkness with slow, ponderous steps. With each stride, Shen Qingyun and the others could almost feel the earth tremble.

"Stay alert—something’s up," Shen Qingyun said in a grave tone, quietly gathering his spiritual energy to prepare for this unknown situation.

Yet the figure appeared not to notice them, lumbering onward step by step. Only when it had completely vanished from sight did the group finally breathe again. Confronted with the unknown, no matter how brave, one’s heart was always tinged with fear—a primal dread of the unfamiliar.

Shen Qingyun narrowed his eyes and spoke in a low voice, "Let’s go. We’ll take a look."

The disciples followed Shen Qingyun’s lead to the spot where the shadow had passed. Upon seeing the clear imprint on the ground, their pupils constricted in shock.

A massive footprint, the stones within it crushed to powder—what kind of weight would it take to create such devastation?

No one dared imagine.

"That print looks like a bear’s," Ling Xiao, who had been silent since boarding the airship, finally spoke. He had even been keeping his distance from Wu Xier. His sudden words suggested a deep familiarity.

A flicker of emotion crossed Wu Xier’s eyes, but she returned to her usual composure after glancing at Ling Xiao.

Shen Qingyun had not recognized it at first, but at Ling Xiao’s mention, he had to admit—the print did resemble that of a bear.

A disciple voiced his doubt, "Is that really what a bear’s footprint looks like?"

Ling Xiao gave the speaker a cool glance. "There’s no mistake. I once lived in the forest for a year. I know the tracks of every beast by heart."

"'By heart,' huh..." Wu Xier murmured softly.

"Hmm?" Ling Xiao looked up at her, confusion in his gaze. "What did you say?"

A flash of panic rose in Wu Xier’s eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it came. She replied evenly, "Why are you looking at me?"

Ordinarily, some disciples would already have guessed Ling Xiao’s response, but what happened next caught them off guard.

Ling Xiao simply shook his head, "It's nothing," he said, then turned his attention to Shen Qingyun, waiting for the next command as if nothing had happened.

Seeing this change in Ling Xiao’s demeanor, Wu Xier felt herself caught between relief and disappointment, though the latter seemed to dominate.

Shen Qingyun glanced at them both, then addressed Ling Xiao. "Are you familiar with this kind of environment?"

"More or less. It’s different from other places, but it’s still wilderness. There shouldn’t be any major problems," Ling Xiao replied.

"Very well. Here you have the right to act on your own in emergencies. If I notice, I’ll arrange for support," Shen Qingyun said.

"Understood."

Thus, Ling Xiao stood half a step behind Shen Qingyun, the others forming a vigilant line behind. Shen Qingyun took out the jade slip given to him by Xu Lingfeng at departure, scanned its contents, and turned to address the group, "From here, we continue straight ahead. The river up ahead—Shang River—marks the left boundary of our assigned area."

"Any monsters, infected beasts, and spiritual herbs we find in this zone belong to us."

He paused, scanning their faces—he knew exactly what they were thinking. He struck down their hopes unceremoniously, "Don’t imagine you can keep the spiritual herbs you collect. Everything is to be handed over to the sect at the end of the trial."

At this, every disciple’s face fell with disappointment.

Paying them no mind, Shen Qingyun turned and barked, "Move out!"

As they pressed on, passing through a mountain hollow, both Shen Qingyun and Ling Xiao slowed their steps, gazing ahead.

"A place to conceal one’s presence," they said in unison. Shen Qingyun looked back at Ling Xiao in surprise, seeing the same astonishment reflected in Ling Xiao’s eyes.

"Are you skilled in this as well, Brother Shen?" Ling Xiao asked.

Shen Qingyun nodded. "I know a little."

The others looked on, utterly lost.

Shen Qingyun turned and ordered, "Let’s check it out. There might be a pleasant surprise."

Beyond the hollow, a depression appeared before them. When the disciples saw it, they gasped.

"My god, is that just weeds? No, that's a huge patch of spiritual grass!" one exclaimed.

Before them stretched a lush carpet of green—pure spiritual grass, thriving in abundance.

"Quick, let’s go!" urged one disciple, but as Shen Qingyun hadn’t moved, none dared act without him.

Shen Qingyun walked slowly, as if intentionally teasing them. At the edge of the depression, he picked a stalk, studied its root and leaves, sniffed it, and declared, "Five-leaf Heart, a third-grade spiritual herb."

Hearing his confirmation, excitement sparked in many eyes. With so many herbs, surely hiding one or two wouldn’t be noticed.

"Pair up—one collects, one stands guard," Shen Qingyun instructed.

The twelve disciples split into six groups, fanning out to gather the herbs. Feng Chuxun, Ling Xiao, Su Ye, and Wu Xier remained unmoved, but the Qiao sisters, seeing such a scene for the first time, joined in the collection after a moment’s delight.

As the gathering was in full swing, a sudden series of roars erupted from the southeast, halting the collectors in their tracks as they looked up.

Shen Qingyun raised his brow, commanding, "Focus on collecting. Leave the rest to us!"

With that, he turned to Feng Chuxun and Ling Xiao. "Come with me."

Wu Xier and Su Ye called out, "What about us?"

"Keep an eye on them," Shen Qingyun replied, then led Feng Chuxun and Ling Xiao toward the source of the roars.

…

"Is that the figure we saw earlier?" asked Feng Chuxun as they crouched behind a rock. Before them, at the mountain's base, the massive shadow they had glimpsed at the valley’s entrance appeared once more.

Shen Qingyun mused, then shook his head. "Hard to say, but since it’s here, we must eliminate it." His eyes flashed with cold intent.

Ling Xiao peered out and noticed a calf-sized corpse at the beast’s feet—a scorpion, its tail deeply embedded in the creature’s arm, the source of its anguished roaring.

"I’ll take care of it," Feng Chuxun said, drawing his sword, battle lust flaring in his eyes.

"Wait," Shen Qingyun stopped him, ignoring Feng Chuxun’s disgruntled glare. "This time, it’s not your fight," he ordered.

Feng Chuxun sheathed his sword with a huff, turning away in sullen silence, though he remembered his promise to follow Shen Qingyun’s lead.

Shen Qingyun turned to Ling Xiao, "You said you’d earn your keep. Now’s your chance. Use what I gave you—deal with it."

"Understood!" Ling Xiao answered without hesitation. He had been waiting for this moment, prepared for his role in Ghost Valley.

He donned the golden gauntlets; dazzling light made him the brightest presence in the valley. The colossal beast, drawn by the glow, roared and tore the scorpion’s tail from its shoulder, blood spraying forth.

But the blood was black.

As the beast faced Ling Xiao directly, they finally saw it for what it was—a bear.

Yes, a bear. In the mundane world, even a single bear would send people fleeing, for such creatures possessed strength rivaling a second-stage cultivator.

Now, infected by Ghost Valley’s mysterious power, who could guess how strong this bear had become, or what new abilities it possessed?

All would be revealed in the coming clash with Ling Xiao.

As the bear charged, every step shook the ground, but Ling Xiao’s eyes remained tranquil as a still lake.

With a roar, the bear lunged. Ling Xiao met it head-on.

His two fists were barely half the size of a bear’s paw, and before the beast, Ling Xiao seemed as insignificant as an ant.

Yet it was this very Ling Xiao who charged forward without fear.

Man and beast collided, the earth shuddering beneath the impact. The bear’s strength was formidable, but Ling Xiao’s was no less so.

The bear attacked with brute force, swinging its massive paws again and again. Ling Xiao answered each blow, fist for fist, using no spiritual power—only raw, unyielding might.

The bear’s wounded arm bled heavily, its strength waning with every drop.

Seeing this, Ling Xiao’s strikes grew ever fiercer, each punch stronger than the last.

…

With a tremendous crash, the bear was sent flying, smashing through a boulder. Ling Xiao, too, was left gasping for breath, his sleeves in tatters, revealing arms knotted with explosive muscle.

Even so, he strode toward the bear, eyes wild and tinged with crimson—his reason gone, consumed by the urge to kill or be killed.

The bear’s eyes, almost human in their terror, stared at him. Its massive body trembled uncontrollably as Ling Xiao approached.

It could resist no longer.

Standing before it, Ling Xiao raised his fist and brought it down again and again upon the bear’s skull. Though its body was tough as stone, it could not withstand such relentless blows.

With one final strike, the bear’s head was obliterated.

A strange liquid splattered over Ling Xiao, mingling with the blood.

The pungent mix of blood and unknown fluids seemed to jolt Ling Xiao back to himself; clarity gradually returned to his eyes…