Wild Grass Strange Sounds

Wang Quan swept his gaze over the training ground. It had still been empty yesterday, but today it was packed with people again, roughly back to the size of four squads. The newly recruited faces, however, were all ashen and evasive, no different from livestock waiting to be slaughtered. The air reeked of fear and unease, even thicker than yesterday.

Commander Chen stood at the front with his back hunched. His murky eyes passed over everyone below, paused on Wang Quan for an instant, then moved on. He cleared his throat and rasped, "Today, we patrol the eastern side. Keep your eyes sharp and pay attention."

Pay attention? To what? Commander Chen said no more, but his words made several veterans' hearts skip a beat. The eastern side... was uncanny.

A shadow also settled over Wang Quan's heart, though nothing showed on his face. With the four unsettled recruits behind him, he silently followed the squad out.

They had patrolled for less than half an hour when the surroundings grew frighteningly quiet. Apart from the wind, only a few distant cries occasionally rang out—impossible to tell whether they were wolf howls or something else. Even the wandering corpses that had appeared in the west last night were nowhere to be seen.

That silence only made everyone more uneasy. Wang Quan thought it might be an opportunity, so he stopped and said to Shi Zhu and the others, "Stand guard here. Don't wander off. I'm going nearby to relieve myself. I'll be right back."

"Boss, you... hurry," Shi Zhu said. His hand around the saber hilt had gone pale. The other three hunched their shoulders even more, standing back to back as their eyes darted in every direction.

Wang Quan nodded, took his saber, and slipped behind a partially collapsed earthen wall nearby. It was only a dozen or so steps from the squad, but the tall weeds blocked the view. He listened carefully, and after confirming that nothing was happening on Shi Zhu's side, he pulled the gray, dusty demon-catching pouch from his robes.

The pouch was icy to the touch and faintly throbbed. He tugged open the thin cord sealing its mouth in a few quick motions—the restriction Old Hu had mentioned was tied around it. The moment the cord loosened, the force of confinement dispersed.

As soon as he opened a slit, a foul stench mixed with rank blood and rust burst out, making his brain ache. A black, furry object then rolled from the opening and dropped into the weeds with a soft thud, letting out a faint, high-pitched hiss like a whimper.

They were two Rotten Claw Weasels. They were somewhat larger than wild raccoon dogs, but now they lay curled on the ground, their black fur filthy and clumped together, stuck with dark-red scabs. One hind leg was twisted grotesquely, with a white shard of bone piercing through the flesh. Most horrifying were their eyes. They should have been a ghostly green, but now they were murky pools of dark-red blood, holding nothing but pain and dying madness. Their intelligence was long gone. Several patches of fur had fallen from their backs, exposing purple-black, rotting flesh beneath and filling the air with decay. Old Hu had said they were half dead, and he had not exaggerated. These things had only one last breath left in them.

They struggled to rise, baring bloodstained fangs as hoarse rattling sounds came from their throats. But their injuries were too severe. They could only scrape uselessly at the ground, leaving several shallow marks in the dirt.

A Spirit Awakening Realm Demonic Beast reduced to this state probably could not even defeat a lame dog. Wang Quan felt no particular emotion. In this Worldly Affairs, soft-hearted people did not live long. He tightened his grip on the saber. When the Rotten Claw Weasel floundered desperately again, he shifted sideways and flicked his wrist.

Wind Slaying Saber Technique—Shadow Skimming!

The saber flash was as swift as a streak of cold moonlight. With a faint hiss, the blade swept precisely across the Rotten Claw Weasel's neck. It took almost no effort for the vicious head to roll away, and only a little dark-red blood splashed out—it had nearly bled dry already. The headless body twitched twice, then went completely still. The last glimmer in its murky bloodshot eyes faded away.

[Slain Spirit Awakening Realm Demonic Beast (Rotten Claw Weasel). Skill Points obtained: 8.]

"Two Spirit Awakening Realm beasts were worth eight points... equivalent to the Martial Realm. As expected, stronger kills give more points." Wang Quan shook the filth from his saber and looked at the demon corpses as he calculated. "Deriving Turtle Breath Vitality Art takes five points. That's enough, with three left over."

Without hesitation, he sank his mind into his consciousness and selected the already perfected Turtle Breath Vitality Art.

"Derive!"

[Mortal-grade cultivation art Turtle Breath Vitality Art detected. Perfected. Derivation requirements met. Skill Points consumed: 5. Derivation commencing...]

A torrent of insight far more vast and profound than the one he had experienced when improving the art before suddenly crashed into Wang Quan's consciousness. It was no longer merely about breathing, nurturing qi, and calming his inner breath. He seemed to "see" his blood and qi flowing slowly yet tenaciously like underground currents during long, measured breaths; his organs like a dormant spirit turtle swallowing life essence within a deep rhythm; his bones and skin like a spirit serpent coiling around them, quietly accumulating astonishing resilience. Between motion and stillness, dormancy and eruption converged, and at the end of the derivation, a primordial, surging sense of power faintly emerged.

[Derivation successful! Mortal-grade Turtle Breath Vitality Art has advanced to the Mortal-Flesh Foundation Establishment Art—Turtle Snake Coiling Dragon Strength!]

[Turtle Snake Coiling Dragon Strength (Mortal-Flesh Foundation Establishment Art): Forges the body's foundation and breaks through mortal shackles. It draws upon the spirit turtle's essence of longevity, the spirit serpent's potential for sudden movement, and the hidden-dragon-in-the-abyss posture. After practice, it greatly strengthens one's foundation, nourishes and expands one's vital blood, and improves the endurance of the sinews and bones, accumulating explosive power in silent dormancy. At profound depths, the blood becomes mercury, the sinews and bones become dragonlike, and motion and stillness follow the heart. It is an unrivaled method for laying the foundation of martial cultivation. Note: This art focuses on internal refinement. Perfected imagery: Bronze Skin, Iron Bones, Mercury Blood—tempering the sinews and bones like repeatedly forged steel, while the circulation of blood and qi gradually produces a murmuring sound.]

It worked! A Mortal-Flesh Foundation Establishment Art! Wang Quan's heart warmed. Just the description alone placed it countless levels above Turtle Breath Vitality Art. He immediately tried adding points.

"Raise Turtle Snake Coiling Dragon Strength to Initiate!"

[Raising Turtle Snake Coiling Dragon Strength to Initiate requires 3 Skill Points.]

With a thought, he said, "Raise it to Initiate!"

In an instant, a transformation utterly different from every previous improvement took place within his body.

There was no violent surge of heat. Instead, he felt a deep, inward sense of "solidification." His blood and qi seemed guided and restrained by an invisible force. No longer restless beneath the skin, they sank and settled, merging more deeply into his marrow and organs and nourishing his most fundamental source. His bones gave off a faint yet dense hum—not from growth, but from some essential strengthening that made them denser and tougher. His muscle fibers seemed to align more orderly, filled with restrained resilience. His breathing became incredibly long and deep. With every breath, a warm current gathered and circulated in his lower abdomen, where a unique "force" quietly took shape—heavy and profound, yet containing a lively, burgeoning intent. It lay dormant within him, still as an old turtle resting on stone; with the slightest stir of his thoughts, it was like a spirit serpent raising its head, its edge flickering into view.

"What an art! Worth every point!" Wang Quan clenched his fist, feeling the continuous power lying dormant within him, and his heart surged with exhilaration.

He disposed of the remains with Bone Dissolving Water, cleaned the site, and quickly returned to the night-patrol squad.

"Boss, are you all right?" Shi Zhu asked quietly.

"What could have happened?" Wang Quan replied casually as he straightened his clothes. "Keep moving. Stay alert."

The group resumed walking along the base of the wall. The weeds grew deeper to the east, and the night wind passed through them with a sobbing sound, like something was crying. They had patrolled for nearly an hour, yet apart from the wind and distant, nameless howls, there had been no movement at all. It was quiet—so quiet it made their scalps prickle.

Just as Wang Quan was wondering whether they should scout farther ahead, suddenly—

"I think... I forgot to say..."

The voice was thin and drifting, as if someone had leaned beside their ear and murmured in a breathy whisper. It was impossible to tell whether it was male or female, or even whether they had truly heard it with their ears. It simply burrowed straight into their minds, empty and carrying an indescribable grievance, making their hearts clench.

"Hmm?" Wang Quan stopped abruptly. Every hair on his body stood on end, and his hand instantly pressed against his saber hilt. His eyes swept the surroundings like blades. Beneath the pallid moonlight, only waist-high weeds swayed, while the broken wall cast a long shadow. There was not a single ghostly figure in sight. In a daze, he seemed to glimpse an extremely faint gray-white humanoid shadow flicker through the weeds in the distance. But when he focused on it, there was nothing there—only the weeds swaying in the wind.

"Did... any of you hear something?" he asked the four behind him in a lowered voice.

The four recruits' faces instantly went white. They stared at one another, their eyes filled with terror.

"I-I heard it..." Shi Zhu swallowed, his throat dry. "It sounded like... someone talking. Something about... forgetting to say something?"

"Right, right! I heard it too!" The half-grown boy's voice was already trembling with tears. "It rang straight inside my head... It scared me half to death!"

"I think... I forgot to say..."

The voice came again. This time it seemed a little clearer, but the grievance lodged in their bones and the unmoored sorrow behind it were even heavier. All five felt their chests suddenly sink. An indescribable oppression, resentment, and regret rose from their hearts for no reason, making their heads buzz and their thoughts swim. It was as if they had truly forgotten something terribly important, yet could not recall what it was no matter how hard they tried. The frustration hurt their chests so badly they wanted to spit blood.

"We've run into a ghost! This place is cursed!" one recruit cried.

Wang Quan's heart was pounding wildly as well. He forcibly suppressed the discomfort twisting his emotions and concentrated with all his might. At that moment, the notification sound that had been silent in his mind abruptly rang out:

[Abnormal mental fluctuations detected. Determined to be the influence of an Echo Realm nightmare-type Demonic Beast. Warning: This type of Demonic Beast has neither form nor substance. It commonly uses intense obsessions and fragments of memory as a conduit to erode the minds of living beings, and must be resisted with firm will or a special method. Its form is usually the unwillingness contained in a dying person's final thought, or an intense regret left unspoken, forming a gray-white phantom that wavers like a guttering candle in the wind. It possesses only a vague humanoid shape. It has no intelligence and can only repeat the final action or fragment of speech from life. Those who approach it hear echoes of similar regrets within their hearts and fall into a brief daze.]

A nightmare! An Echo Realm entity! Wang Quan's heart jolted. Old Hu had mentioned it once. This thing was much harder to deal with than those stiff, shambling corpses. It could neither be seen nor touched, and specialized in wrecking people's minds! That faint gray-white shadow from before... His heart turned cold.

Looking at the four in the squad again, he saw that their eyes had begun to glaze over. The muscles on their faces twitched painfully, as though each had fallen into some miserable matter they had "forgotten" and could not escape. Even Shi Zhu was gritting his back teeth, the veins on his forehead bulging as he stubbornly held on.

Just as several of them grew dizzy and seemed about to sink in—

"Roar—!"

A savage roar erupted like a thunderclap from the darkness not far ahead! It was filled with naked viciousness and the hunger to devour humans, scattering much of the strange, sorrowful whispering.

All five jolted and broke free of their hazy state. They were drenched in cold sweat, their hearts pounding against their ribs like drums.

"What was that?!"

"There's a monster!"

The group turned in panic toward the source of the roar. Beneath the moonlight, several writhing figures emerged from a heap of weeds. They were three Monsters, with bucket-thick serpent tails in place of lower bodies, slithering across the ground with a rustle. Their upper bodies were somewhat humanoid, but each bore a triangular snake head. Scarlet forked tongues hissed in and out, while their vertical pupils glimmered with a chilling, icy light in the darkness.

[Spirit Awakening Realm demon detected (Snake Demon). Quantity: 3.]

Snake Demons! Judging by their aura, they seemed even fiercer than the Pig Demon he had killed last time.

The Snake Demon at the front was especially robust. Its vertical pupils swept over Wang Quan and the others like shards of ice, and its hoarse, ugly voice rang out, thick with contempt and greed. "You lot of Blood Tax, what are you standing here in a daze for? Waiting for me to serve dinner?"

Wang Quan forced himself to calm down, stepped half a pace forward, and cupped his fists. He tried to keep his voice steady. "This... demon lord, we seem to have been bewitched by a nightmare just now."

"A nightmare?" The Snake Demon narrowed its vertical pupils and flicked its tongue faster, as if sniffing something. Then its face twisted into a vicious, mocking expression. "You two-legged sheep think you're worthy of encountering a nightmare? Don't feed me that crap!"

Its thick tail swung as it slid several steps closer, looming over Wang Quan. Rank, hot breath sprayed across his face. "I'm asking you, why hasn't my Pig brother come back after collecting Blood Tax from you two days ago? Hm? Did you hide him? Or..." It suddenly leaned forward. Its forked tongue, wet, cold, and revolting, shot out and licked half of Wang Quan's face before he could react.

Sticky, foul saliva trickled down Wang Quan's cheek. His body instantly went rigid as stone. His right hand hanging at his side clenched so tightly that his fist cracked, his nails nearly digging into his flesh. Every muscle in his body locked up. Within his dantian, the newly born, heavy Turtle-Snake Force circulated faintly, bringing a strange sense of stability that helped him desperately suppress the urge to draw his saber and hack the creature apart.

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