Nighttime Terror

Chapter Nine: Nighttime Terror

The last trace of warmth from the setting sun was completely swallowed by the distant mountains. The night over the Primordial Wilderness, like a cold, ink-black tide with weight to it, silently and swiftly flooded the entire valley.

The tranquility and vitality of the day seemed like nothing more than a fragile illusion. Once darkness descended, this ancient land revealed its most primitive and ferocious face.

Chen An sat at the entrance of the main house, with the reassuring orange-red glow of the fire flickering behind him.

Before him stood the courtyard gate he had reinforced with wooden poles.

The gate was tightly shut, but through the gaps of varying widths between its planks, he could clearly see the thick, impenetrable darkness outside.

The absolute silence did not last long.

The first roar, like a boulder hurled into a dead pool, abruptly shattered the lingering echoes of dusk.

The sound came from far away. It was as muffled as thunder, yet its sharp trailing note seemed capable of rending metal and stone, making the ground beneath Chen An's feet tremble faintly.

It sounded unlike any beast he knew. It was more like some colossal creature venting its power—or... engaging in a desperate struggle to the death.

That roar seemed to be a signal.

Immediately afterward, all kinds of indescribably terrifying sounds erupted from every direction, from every corner both near and far, high and low, spreading like a plague and surrounding the Small Courtyard in an instant.

Nearby, from the bushes outside the courtyard wall, came a teeth-grating rustle, accompanied by a low, rumbling sound that seemed to travel along the ground. It sounded as if more than one predator was stalking and confronting each other.

The sound of some sharp claws scraping against stone was so grating that it raised goosebumps all over Chen An's body.

Farther away, in the mountain forests, the roars of beasts and cries of birds intertwined into a chaotic and savage symphony.

There were long, mournful howls like those of wolves, but with higher pitches and greater penetrating power. There were furious shrieks like the cries of apes, yet mixed with noises like metal and stone colliding.

There was even a low-frequency hum that continued without pause, like the wingbeats of countless bees, yet a hundred times heavier. It pressed directly against the human chest, leaving people short of breath and gripped by panic.

The sky was not peaceful either.

The immense sound of flapping wings occasionally swept past at low altitude, stirring waves of fetid wind as shadows momentarily blotted out the already sparse starlight.

At times, a shriek like a sharp blade slicing through the air plunged down from the heights, accompanied by the brief wail of some creature at the moment of death.

Then came the spine-chilling sounds of chewing and swallowing.

The sounds were more than just sounds.

Along with those roars and shrieks, waves of chaotic, savage spiritual pressure filled with the desire to kill continually washed over the boundaries of the Small Courtyard like invisible shockwaves.

Even inside the Safe Zone, Chen An could faintly sense the chill and agitation originating from the depths of the soul. It was as if countless pairs of malicious eyes were staring fixedly at this isolated courtyard in the darkness.

His heart pounded uncontrollably, his palms were icy cold, and he clutched the hatchet tightly.

Although reason told him that he was absolutely safe, the fear of darkness and the unknown rooted in his instincts still had him firmly in its grasp.

He was like someone sitting inside a transparent glass dome, with a bloody hell of demons running wild outside. This intense assault on his sight—though he could not actually see anything—and hearing tormented his nerves more than a direct threat would have.

Suddenly, two ghostly green "lanterns" lit up in the darkness not far in front of the courtyard gate. They were as large as washbasins, floating more than a person's height above the ground and moving slowly.

What were those things' eyes?!

Chen An's breath caught in fright, and he instinctively shrank backward. The pair of green eyes lingered outside the courtyard gate for a moment, seemingly drawn by the glow of the fire within.

Then, a vague outline as immense as a hill emerged in the darkness. Accompanied by heavy footsteps and rough breathing, it advanced toward the courtyard gate one step at a time.

The ground began to tremble rhythmically.

Chen An smelled a strong, nauseating stench of blood and musk drifting over on the wind. Even through the barrier, it made his stomach churn.

The giant beast reached a spot roughly ten meters from the courtyard gate and stopped.

Its ghostly green eyes fixed on Chen An behind the cracks in the gate. A threatening growl rolled from its throat like muffled thunder. It seemed confused and agitated, scraping at the ground restlessly with its foreclaws and leaving deep furrows behind.

Chen An did not dare move a muscle. He met those green eyes, cold sweat soaking through his back.

He had no doubt that without the Safe Zone, this giant beast could swallow him and the entire Small Courtyard in a single bite.

The giant beast seemed to lose patience. It suddenly let out a deafening roar, rose onto its hind legs, and lunged at the courtyard gate with an aura that could crush everything in its path!

Just as Chen An thought the courtyard gate was about to be smashed apart, a sudden change occurred!

The giant beast seemed to crash into a wall that was invisible and intangible, yet indestructible. A profoundly dull boom rang out! Its momentum stopped dead, and its enormous body was even bounced backward by a gentle yet irresistible force. It staggered several steps before regaining its balance.

The giant beast let out an enraged roar laced with pain and disbelief. Its ghostly green eyes brimmed with savagery and confusion.

Unwilling to accept the result, it lunged again, ramming with its head, tearing with its claws, and crushing with its body... Yet every attack was completely neutralized in the air several feet from the courtyard wall, without even stirring a ripple.

That invisible barrier was like an absolute dividing line, completely separating the safety within the courtyard from the madness outside.

In the end, the giant beast exhausted its strength and patience. It gave one last unwilling roar toward the courtyard gate, then turned and disappeared sulkily into the darkness as its heavy footsteps gradually faded away.

Chen An let out a long breath, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. Although the close-range "contact" had been terrifying, it gave him the most direct and profound confirmation yet of the Safe Zone's reliability.

However, the night was still long.

No sooner had the giant beast left than another wave of threats arrived. A huge swarm of flying insects, resembling bats but possessing bone wings and poisonous spines, swept over like a dark cloud. Emitting high-pitched shrieks, they attempted to enter through the hole in the roof.

But once again, when they touched the invisible boundary beneath the hole, they seemed to crash into a layer of blazing molten metal and instantly turned into wisps of blue smoke, leaving not even ashes behind.

Next came an even stranger attack.

There was no physical form—only waves of wails and whispers that pierced directly into the soul, as if countless vengeful spirits were crying and cursing outside the courtyard, attempting to erode the minds of the living within through spiritual power.

The force even caused the fire inside the courtyard to flicker erratically, while the temperature of the air plunged.

Chen An felt dizzy and nauseated.

But soon, a gentle and vast power spread out from the Small Courtyard itself. Like a spring breeze and gentle rain, it silently smoothed away every disturbance on the spiritual level.

The fire stabilized, the air warmed, and the wails and whispers melted away without a trace like snow beneath the sun.

That night, Chen An barely closed his eyes.

He witnessed all kinds of inconceivable methods of attack: physical impacts, venomous sprays, spiritual erosion, and even bizarre fluctuations that attempted to distort space...

Yet regardless of how terrifying the intruder was or what methods it employed, without exception, it was ultimately blocked outside by that seemingly frail but actually indestructible invisible barrier.

The Small Courtyard was like a reef amid raging seas. No matter how violently the wind blew or rain fell, it remained unmoving.

When a faint hint of dawn finally appeared on the eastern horizon, the various terrifying sounds outside the courtyard gradually subsided and faded into the distance like the ebbing tide.

The night in the Primordial Wilderness was over.

Dragging his utterly exhausted body, Chen An pushed open the courtyard gate. In the dim morning light, the valley remained quiet and beautiful, as if the terrifying feast that had lasted all night had been nothing more than a nightmare.

Only the enormous, freshly added claw marks and pits on the ground outside the courtyard gate silently proved that it had all been real.

He walked over to the traces and crouched down, touching the cold soil with his fingers.

After the fear came an unprecedented sense of security and relief, flowing through his entire body like a warm spring.

The Safe Zone was absolutely reliable.

He turned around and looked toward the ordinary, dilapidated Small Courtyard in the morning light. His eyes filled with indescribable gratitude. Here was his only—and final—pure land in this terrifying Primordial World.

(End of Chapter Nine)