Desperate Valley

# Chapter 3: Desperate Valley

The campfire crackled, leaping flames stretching Chen An's shadow long and distorted across the stone wall behind him, wavering unsteadily with the fire's dance. The small rabbit-like beast had been skinned, cleaned, skewered on a makeshift wooden stick, and set to roast beside the fire. Grease dripped into the flames with a sizzling hiss, accompanied by a strange meaty aroma that spread through the air, fiercely stimulating Chen An's empty stomach.

He forcibly suppressed the urge to devour it immediately, patiently turning the roasting meat, but his gaze swept vigilantly toward the courtyard gate. Despite the guarantee of an "Absolute Safe Zone," the increasingly dense and closer terrifying roars from outside still made his heart pound with fear.

The Primordial World at night was a predator's paradise. All kinds of horrors he couldn't imagine were roaming and slaughtering in the darkness. Sometimes a massive shadow would sweep low over the courtyard with a gust of wind, casting a suffocating pressure; sometimes, from afar, came the teeth-grinding sound of bones shattering and the miserable wails of dying creatures, then quickly fell silent again, leaving only the satisfied growls of the stronger.

Every sound made Chen An's hand tremble slightly. He felt like a lone boat in a stormy sea, and this small courtyard was his only fragile harbor. That thin wooden door seemed to be the only barrier separating hell from the mortal world.

The meat was done—crispy golden on the outside, fragrant and tempting. Chen An couldn't care about the heat, carefully tearing off a leg, blowing on it, and stuffing it into his mouth.

The meat was firm, chewy, with a faint, herb-like sweetness—no trace of the gamey smell he'd expected. What was stranger was that after a few bites, a gentle warmth spread from his stomach through his limbs, driving away the night's chill and easing much of the fatigue from the day's running and stumbling.

"Could this be... spiritual energy?" Chen An was both surprised and delighted. Though he was an ordinary mortal who couldn't sense so-called spiritual energy, his body's most basic reactions didn't lie. Even the lowest-level creatures of this Primordial World contained energy beneficial to living beings in their flesh and blood.

This gave him a sliver more hope for surviving in this world.

After filling his stomach, his energy recovered somewhat. But drowsiness also crept in. The day's experiences had been too intense, his mind constantly on high alert; now that he relaxed, his eyelids began to droop.

He didn't dare sleep inside the house—the hole in the stone roof made him feel unsafe. In the end, he chose to stay in the thatched shed, moving the campfire near the entrance for warmth and light to keep watch. He gripped the sharpened firewood knife tightly, leaned against the shed wall, and curled up on the spread dry grass.

The beast roars outside seemed endless, like the background noise of a nightmare. At first, Chen An forced himself to listen, but physical exhaustion eventually overcame fear, and he drifted into a dazed sleep.

His sleep was shallow, broken. He dreamed of the lab explosion, of desperate flight, of ferocious Demonic Beasts with bloody maws... Every time he woke, he was drenched in cold sweat, needing to confirm he was still in the small courtyard before he could barely fall asleep again.

And so, between fear and exhaustion, the first night in the Primordial World passed—dangerous but survivable.

When the first rays of dawn light filtered through the gaps in the thatched shed and fell on Chen An's face, he jolted awake. The hair-raising nighttime symphony outside had subsided, replaced by a relative but deeper silence, occasionally punctuated by crisp but unfamiliar bird calls.

A new day had begun.

Chen An stretched his stiff, tense body and walked into the courtyard. In the morning light, the valley was shrouded in mist, like a fairyland. Ancient trees were lush green, vines hung down, and in the distance, a waterfall cascaded like a white silk ribbon from a cliff, its sound faintly carried by the wind. If one ignored the deadly dangers lurking behind it, the scenery was breathtakingly beautiful.

But Chen An had no mood to appreciate it. The pressure to survive was urgent. The food problem was only temporarily solved; that small beast, even eaten sparingly, wouldn't last a few days. Though water was secured, being trapped in this small courtyard long-term was no different from waiting for death. He had to understand the surrounding environment better, find a stable food source, and... see if he could obtain some extra security.

His gaze fell on the courtyard gate again. Today, he needed to be bolder.

First, using the firewood knife, he carefully cleared the grass within a few meters of the gate, opening up a small area of relatively clear vision. He was extremely cautious throughout the process, ready to retreat into the courtyard at any moment.

During the clearing, he noticed some interesting details: certain stones outside the wall had faint, worn carvings—seemingly some kind of writing or patterns—but erosion was too severe to make out anything. The soil at the base of the wall also differed slightly in color from the surroundings, appearing darker.

"Someone... really lived here before?" Chen An's doubts deepened. What kind of person would choose to build a courtyard in such a dangerous heart of the Primordial World? Where did they go later? Did they leave, or...

He dared not think further.

After clearing his field of view, he decided to conduct a more dangerous test—throwing stones to probe the way.

He collected stones of various sizes, stood inside the gate, and threw them with force in different directions: near, far, toward the woods on the left, toward the cliff on the right.

The stones cut through the air, landing in their target areas with crisp or dull thuds.

At first, there was no reaction. But when he threw a stone hard into a distant thicket, things suddenly changed!

"Hiss—!"

A sharp, piercing screech rose from the thicket, and then, a giant python as thick as a bucket, with a single horn on its head and dark green scales covering its body, thrust out its head! Its cold, vertical pupils instantly locked onto the direction of the gate, clearly enraged.

Chen An was scared out of his wits, nearly slamming the door shut. The ferocious aura emanating from the python far surpassed the wolf-like Demonic Beast he'd encountered yesterday!

The python's body slithered with astonishing speed, charging straight toward the gate, crushing grass and plants in its path!

Just as Chen An thought it would crash into the door, the python stopped abruptly about ten meters from the gate! It twisted its body anxiously on the spot, its long forked tongue constantly flicking in and out, emitting threatening hisses, and a flicker of... wariness appeared in its cold pupils?

It advanced no further, only staring fixedly at the gate—or rather, at Chen An behind it. That look wasn't like watching prey; it was more like being wary of something that made it uneasy.

Chen An gripped the firewood knife tightly, his palms sweating, heart pounding wildly. He and the python faced off across ten meters. Time passed minute by minute, and the python never crossed that line.

Finally, as if confirming it couldn't approach the target, the python hissed a few more times in reluctance, slowly retreated into the thicket, and disappeared.

Chen An let out a long breath, his back completely soaked with cold sweat.

This risky test had yielded huge gains!

First, he confirmed that the safe zone's deterrent range might extend beyond the wall itself, forming an invisible "forbidden area" that even a formidable beast like that didn't dare enter. This was undoubtedly great news.

Second, he had a clearer understanding of the environment directly in front of the gate: grass and rubble near, woods and cliffs farther away, and the thicket where the python lurked was an obvious danger point to remember.

But the left and right sides were still unknown. He needed more information.

After resting a moment to calm himself, Chen An picked up stones again. This time, he aimed at the relatively sparse woodland to the left of the gate.

The stone flew out and landed in the forest.

He waited a moment. No obvious reaction. Only a few strange birds with bright feathers and unusually sharp beaks were startled, flew onto branches, curiously glanced this way a few times, then ignored him.

"Left side relatively safe?" Chen An guessed. At least nothing terrifying had charged out immediately.

Then he turned to the right, where a steep cliff stood, with what seemed to be a narrow crevice at its base—like the entrance to a small cave. He threw a stone toward that opening.

The stone hit the rock at the cave mouth with a crisp echo.

One second, two seconds... Just as Chen An thought this side was also fine, a thick, nauseating stench suddenly wafted out from the cave! Then, a dense swarm of fist-sized black shadows surged out like a tide!

They were strange insects resembling spiders but with wings and venomous stingers! They emitted a maddening buzz, gathering into a black cloud in the air, seemingly searching for the provocateur.

Chen An held his breath, shrinking back behind the door.

The swarm circled a few times, apparently unable to pinpoint the stone's source, and coupled with their instinctive wariness of the gate's direction, they eventually flew back into the cave in frustration, leaving only the lingering stench.

Chen An's face paled. The right side was a nest—extremely dangerous!

After this "testing the waters," he had a preliminary understanding of the immediate threats around the small courtyard: a giant python straight ahead, a terrifying insect nest to the right, and only the woodland on the left seemed less menacing.

This valley appeared serene and beautiful, but in truth, killing intent lurked everywhere! The small courtyard he occupied was like the sole safe haven in this death zone.

"I have to boost my survival ability as fast as possible." Chen An felt an unprecedented urgency. Hiding alone wouldn't cut it. He needed weapons, traps, and a more efficient way to obtain food.

He returned inside the courtyard and began planning more systematically. Using the woodcutter's knife, he split the rotten timber into thinner strips and planks, trying to craft simple tools: a wooden bowl for holding water, and a few wooden racks that might store items.

He also tried weaving rope from supple vines. Though his technique was clumsy and the results crude, it marked a small step from passively hiding to actively reshaping his environment.

He spent the entire day in a flurry of work. Sweat soaked his clothes again and again, only to be dried by the wind. Blisters formed on his palms, burst, and turned into new calluses. But he found joy in it, because every successful creation gave him a grounded sense of controlling his own fate.

As dusk fell, he surveyed the fruits of his labor: crude as they were, they had finally made the small courtyard feel a bit like a "home," no longer just a pure cage.

He lit the campfire again, roasted the leftover beast meat, and mulled over tomorrow's plans: till the abandoned garden plot and plant the seeds. That was the long-term hope.

Just as he was about to enjoy his dinner, a sound suddenly came from far outside the courtyard—one completely different from before. It wasn't a beast's roar or an insect's chirp, but a dull rumble like boulders colliding, mixed with a sharp, metallic clashing!

Chen An jerked his head up, looking toward the source of the noise. It came from the valley entrance.

"Is that... the sound of a fight?" His heartbeat raced. Could it be... that in this Primordial World, besides Demonic Beasts, there were other... intelligent Living Beings?

(Chapter 3 End)