The Mud Pit

Wei Dayong's footsteps paused, and he coughed twice. The sound echoed in the empty alley, sounding particularly weak. He didn't turn around, and spoke slowly in a hoarse voice:

"Madman Xu... wasn't always mad. His real name was Xu Daoling, and he was a pharmacist from the Hundred Herbs Sect in the south. The sect wasn't large, but it had a proper lineage. They usually practiced medicine to help the world and were respected."

He stopped, leaning against a peeling dirt wall to catch his breath, his eyes fixed on the squat pharmacy deep within the garrison, his expression complex.

"That year, he went out of the mountain gate with a few Senior Brothers to handle some business. They passed through a small mountain village called Xitou Village. They happened upon Demonic Creatures passing through. A dark mass, pouring out from the mountains, killing anyone they saw, burning any house they came across. The scene... was like hell."

Wei Dayong's voice was flat, as if he were talking about someone else's affairs, but every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"There were only eight of them, and the village had over a hundred old and young. The leader, Senior Brother Zhang, immediately ordered everyone to form a formation and protect the villagers as they retreated to the ancestral hall. Madman Xu was still lucid then, knowing they couldn't win. He quickly used the sect's communication method, desperately pleading with the sect for help." As he spoke, he grinned, the scar on his face twitching, as if he were smiling, or perhaps crying.

"The sect replied, saying they knew, and told them to hold on no matter what, that reinforcements were on their way. Madman Xu cried out to the communication jade talisman, saying they couldn't hold on, they really couldn't hold on—the other side had a Great Demon in the Core Condensation Realm, and countless smaller monsters. Their small group was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. Guess what the sect said?"

Wang Quan didn't make a sound, just tightened his grip on Wei Dayong's arm.

Wei Dayong took a deep breath, the air carrying the earthy smell of the alley, and the scent of past bloodshed.

"They just threw back one sentence: 'If you can hold, then hold. If you can't, use your lives to fill the gap, but you must hold.'"

"And then... there was silence."

"They had no choice but to hold. Eight people, relying on the low walls of the ancestral hall, endured three days and three nights against the crazed Demonic Creatures."

Wei Dayong's eyes went vacant, as if he were seeing the scene unfold before him.

"On the first day, Junior Brother Li, trying to save a child snatched by a monster, was dragged into the horde and never returned. Junior Brother Wang's leg was bitten off. The bleeding couldn't be stopped, and he died before dawn. They couldn't even retrieve their bodies."

"On the second day, their water ran out, and their arrows were all shot. Their Talismans and Pills had been used up long ago. Senior Brother Liu and Senior Brother Zhao led the able-bodied men who could still move, armed with hoes and choppers, charging out to try and create an opening for the old and young to escape through the back mountain... Not one of them returned. The entrance to the ancestral hall was covered in blood, congealed and black."

"On the third day, only Madman Xu, Senior Brother Zhang, and Junior Sister Sun, who was severely wounded, remained. That old demon in the Core Condensation Realm, probably tired of playing, took action itself. Senior Brother Zhang fought desperately, using his life essence to activate a life-saving lightning Talisman, hoping to take the old demon with him... It only managed to blow off one of its arms. Junior Sister Sun... was swallowed whole by that old demon, without even a chance to scream."

Wei Dayong's voice grew lower and rougher.

"Madman Xu was curled up under the shrine in the ancestral hall, watching Junior Sister Sun get swallowed. By then, he had probably gone mad, or perhaps wasn't completely mad. He just watched, his hand tightly gripping his silver needles—the needles for saving people, not a single one used."

"Later, whether it was because the old demon was injured, or because it felt the village had no more life and was bored, it retreated with its horde. The sect members didn't arrive until noon on the fourth day. In Xitou Village, there were hardly any who could still breathe. Inside and outside the ancestral hall, there were scattered limbs everywhere, making it impossible to tell if they were human or demon."

"Five of the eight fellow disciples died. Senior Brother Zhang was severely wounded and died a couple of days after being carried back. Only Madman Xu remained, physically intact, but his mind... was no longer the same."

"The sect said he was fearless in the face of danger, held his ground while awaiting reinforcements, and even gave him some compensation. But only he knew how he endured those three days. He watched his fellow disciples die one by one, watched the villagers perish one by one, he desperately sought help, and all he received from the other side was a cold sentence, and then silence."

Wei Dayong turned to look at Wang Quan, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a deep, bottomless weariness.

"After he returned, he changed. He felt that relying solely on human hearts, on the human body, was useless. He needed something fiercer to deal with the fierce. He started dabbling in those... evil methods of grafting demonic creature parts onto humans. The sect couldn't tolerate him, so he fled, all the way here. Commander Chen saw that his skills could indeed save lives, could save the lives of us criminal soldiers, so he kept him here, turning a blind eye, letting him mess around in that pharmacy, and mess around with himself."

Wei Dayong lowered his voice even further, as if afraid of disturbing something:

"Later, he became increasingly erratic. He claimed to be cultivating, but it was more like torturing himself. He wouldn't sleep for nights on end, talking to the wall in the pharmacy, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing. One night, a brother went to get Trauma Medicine and saw him holding a bloody wolf demon's foreleg, obtained from who knows where, staring at the oil lamp and muttering: 'If I could attach this... if I could attach this...'"

"Some said he hated his hands for being useless, unable to save people or kill demons. Others said he hated that he survived, that he survived whole and complete. Those fellow disciples who died before him, those villagers torn to pieces before his eyes, haunted him every night."

"Then, he truly went mad. Once, whether it was a cultivation deviation or his inner demons finally overwhelming him, he went berserk in the pharmacy, smashing everything. Finally, he grabbed the thick-backed knife used for chopping herbs and, with his own hand, severed one of his arms from his shoulder."

Wei Dayong's Adam's apple bobbed, as if the bloody scene were unfolding before him.

"By the time Commander Chen and his men broke down the door, half his body was soaked in blood. Yet, he had a smile on his face, raving madly, clutching a gray wolf demon's foreleg, thicker than his own thigh and prepared long ago, with his remaining good arm. He kept repeating: 'It's done... it's done this time... If I attach it... if I attach it, I can kill them... kill them all...'"

"No one knows when he started pondering this matter, or how long he prepared. That wolf demon arm looked freshly severed, preserved in medicinal liquid, not rotten. He dragged his severed limb, bleeding, wanting to attach the beast's leg to himself."

"Commander Chen knocked him unconscious, found a doctor to staunch the bleeding as best as possible, and saved his life. But after waking up, he became even crazier. He wouldn't let anyone near him, and took out those bottles and jars himself. Using his half-baked medical skills and reckless madness, he managed, in a feverish delirium, to attach that grotesque, coarse-furred wolf demon foreleg to his severed shoulder."

Wei Dayong looked at Wang Quan, his eyes filled with a profound sadness: "After that, he became the way he is now. Not quite human, not quite demon. Some say he went mad from wanting to become stronger, but I think... it wasn't just about wanting power. He deeply hated himself, hated his human form. He felt that if he had become like this earlier, could he have killed more at Xitou Village? Could he... have not just watched helplessly?"

"That arm increased his strength considerably, allowing him to use some of the brute force of demonic creatures. But he also became increasingly strange, sometimes lucid, sometimes confused. When lucid, he could still mix medicine and save people; his skills hadn't diminished. When confused... he was like a true beast. No one in the garrison dared to easily seek him out to try that method anymore. It wasn't about becoming stronger anymore; it was about... slowly turning himself into the very thing he hated the most."

"Wang Quan," Wei Dayong called his name, his voice low, "we are expendable lives. The desire to climb higher, to live like a human, is not wrong. But Madman Xu's path... is a dead end. No matter how far you go, you can never turn back. That thought in your heart, crush it as soon as possible. There are many ways to become stronger, but turning yourself into that monstrous form, even if you can kill demons, you will no longer be yourself. Let's go, I'll take you to get those two... common things."

Wang Quan listened in silence, supporting Wei Dayong as they continued to walk.

They arrived at a low, dilapidated building in a more remote corner of the garrison, almost like a storage room. The door was ajar, with a rusty lock hanging on it, but it wasn't locked at all; it opened with a push. Inside, dust filled the air, and cobwebs covered everything. Several old wooden shelves were haphazardly piled with bamboo slips, animal skin scrolls, and even some stone tablets, etched with blurred characters and drawings. Just as Wei Dayong had said, there was no guard, nor any upkeep.

Wei Dayong coughed a few times at the doorway, not entering, but simply gesturing inside with his chin: "Under the leftmost shelf, there are two wrapped in oilcloth, not completely rotten yet. Get them yourself. Be careful, don't stir up the dust, it'll choke you to death."

Wang Quan released him, letting him lean against the doorframe, then held his breath and bent down to enter. At the bottom of the shelf in the farthest corner, he felt the oilcloth bundle. Opening it, he found two thread-bound books. The paper was yellow and fragile, with wormholes along the edges. One cover was crookedly inscribed with Bronze Armor Technique, and the other was Turtle Breath Vitality Art.

The moment his fingers touched these two books, a cold prompt arrived in his mind:

[Found Mortal-grade Cultivation Method: Bronze Armor Technique]

[Effect: Externally trains sinews, bones, and skin. Long-term practice can slightly enhance physique, strength, and resistance to damage. Cultivation is slow and prone to bottlenecks.]

[Can consume points to directly improve mastery. Add points?]

[Found Mortal-grade Cultivation Method: Turtle Breath Vitality Art]

[Effect: Internally nourishes vital energy. Has a weak effect of nourishing blood and qi, calming internal breath, and prolonging life. No offensive capabilities.]

[Can consume points to directly improve mastery. Add points?]

Wang Quan's heart stirred. As expected, the system could recognize and add points. But looking at the descriptions like "Mortal-grade," "slow," and "weak," and recalling the terrifying strength of the Pig Demon and the danger of last night, he knew these were indeed genuine low-level cultivation methods. However, he had no better options at the moment; something was better than nothing. As for relying on them to fight Demonic Creatures... he would probably have to rely on the method of adding points and deduction.

He carefully rewrapped the two books in oilcloth, walked out of the dusty room, and nodded to Wei Dayong: "Got them."

Wei Dayong glanced at the oilcloth package in his hand and tugged at the corner of his mouth. "This thing? Few people would want it even if it were free. Train for ten or eight years, and maybe you'll be able to take a few more hits and live a couple of years longer. But in this place..." He didn't finish, just shook his head, the meaning self-evident.

"I'll return it in a couple of days," Wang Quan said.

"It's fine, look at it all you want. It'll just get infested with bugs here anyway." Wei Dayong waved his hand dismissively, caught his breath, and gestured for Wang Quan to help him back to his quarters.

After a few steps, Wang Quan asked casually, "Master Wei, besides stumbling upon luck during night patrols... are there any places in the city, or nearby, where I can find... uh, live, or recently deceased monsters? They don't have to be too strong, lone ones are best."

Wei Dayong's steps faltered. He turned his head, his cloudy eyes fixing on Wang Quan, a sharp glint flashing within them. "What do you want to do?"

Wang Quan met his gaze, his face expressionless, only a suppressed flame burning deep within his eyes. "A blade rusts if it's not sharpened. The blade last night wasn't clean. I want to... find a place to practice. And also... to vent." He paused, then added, "I can't count on Exploding Pills next time, nor can I count on you getting up to give me that strike."

Wei Dayong looked at him for a long time, so long that Wang Quan thought he wouldn't answer. Only then did he slowly turn his head back, looking at the narrow, dim strip of sky above the high walls of the Garrison.

"There is," Wei Dayong's voice was very soft, carrying a cold, almost cruel tone. "In the Ghost Market in the west city, at the very back, there are some shops that operate in the shadows. As long as you can afford it, or have something to trade, you can get live monsters, dead ones, ones missing limbs, even... half-demons. They're all black market goods, captured by monster hunters or taken in back-alley deals after getting isolated in the wilderness. They have no backing, and no one will pursue it if they die or are crippled."

"Or," he continued, his voice even colder, "you can wait for the night patrols and try your luck. As long as the ones we encounter aren't under the command of, or affiliated with, those four monster families, and aren't claimed, we... can make a move."

"Four monster families?" Wang Quan keenly seized on the key point.

A deep, mocking helplessness appeared on Wei Dayong's face. "Within a hundred miles of Anping County, the ones who truly call the shots aren't Captain Chen. It's the Ox Demon of Black Wind Cave, the Python Demon of Ten Thousand Snakes Den, the Spider Demon of Thousand Threads Cave, and the Human Candle Leopard of Burning Heart Ridge. These four families have divided the territory and set the rules. The Blood Tax our Garrison pays, the bulk of it goes to them. Their Demon Soldiers and Demon Generals move around outside the city, and as long as they don't attack the city, we have to pretend not to see them. Who told them they have connections and strong fists?" He patted the spot where his left sleeve should have been, where an arm once was. "There's no choice. If you want to practice your blade, want to vent, find those rootless, wandering Wild Demons, or buy from the Black Market. If you mess with those four families, you'll bring disaster upon the entire Garrison, no, upon the whole of Anping County."

"I understand, Master Wei," Wang Quan said softly.

If you like this book, remember to add it to your bookshelf so you don't lose it next time.