The faint light of dawn pierced the thin mist and spilled over the bluestone streets of Fenlai Royal City, gilding the bustling capital with a hazy golden edge. In the small courtyard on the western side of the city, voices were already murmuring, yet there was no clamor-today was the day Hillman would set out for the Magical Beast Forest.
Hogg stood at the courtyard gate, tightly gripping a heavy pack filled with dried magical beast jerky, high-quality healing potions, and several rough maps marked with the terrain of the Magical Beast Forest. His gaze rested on Hillman. This normally resolute, decisive man now held a worry in his eyes that he could scarcely conceal. Linley stood nearby. Bebe, perched on his shoulder, seemed to sense the impending farewell as well. He huddled obediently, his crimson eyes fixed unblinkingly on Hillman, letting out a few quiet squeaks from time to time.
"Hillman, whatever you do, don't push yourself too far in the Magical Beast Forest." Hogg stepped forward and patted Hillman's shoulder, his voice low and hoarse. "The road from the ninth-level peak to Saint-level is fraught with countless hardships and dangers. Taking this step is already no easy feat. There's no need to rush for results. If you encounter a danger you can't withstand, turn back immediately. The three of us brothers will always matter more than anything else."
Hillman looked at the concern in Hogg's eyes, then at Linley's face, so full of reluctance to part, and warmth welled up in his heart. He patted the pack, then ruffled Linley's hair, a determined smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Don't worry, big brother. I know my limits. Linley, train hard at Ernst Academy. When I return, I'll bring Saint-level power with me and shelter you all."
With that, Hillman swung into the saddle. The jet-black horse gave a ringing neigh, its hooves kicking up a little dust against the bluestone pavement. He drew in the reins and looked back toward the courtyard, then at the father and son standing at its gate. At last, he gritted his teeth and snapped his riding whip down. The horse galloped away toward the Royal City's western gate. Behind him, the figures and courtyard gradually shrank into a blurry point of light before finally disappearing at the end of the street.
Beyond Fenlai Royal City's western gate stretched an endless plain, and at its far end lay the Magical Beast Forest, whose very name made countless powerful fighters pale. Hillman galloped onward, the wind whistling past his ears and whipping his robes. Images of his days with Hogg and Linley kept flashing through his mind: the pain in Hogg's eyes as he held his wife's belongings, Linley drenched in sweat as he practiced magic on the training grounds, and, above all, the scene of his own silent vow beneath the moon-he had to reach Saint-level, and he had to protect every member of the Baruch Clan.
That obsession burned like a searing flame within his chest, driving away his fear of the unknown road ahead.
After he had galloped for an unknown length of time, the outlines of the plain gradually vanished, replaced by rolling mountains covered in forests so dense they almost shut out the sun. From afar, the forest lay shrouded in thick gray mist. As the mist churned, faint, deep roars could be heard from within the forest, their savage menace making even the air feel oppressive.
This was the Magical Beast Forest.
Hillman reined in his horse and dismounted. Stroking its mane, he said softly, "Go back for now. Once my training is over, I'll return to Fenlai City to find you." The horse seemed to understand. It shook its head and gave a reluctant neigh, but still turned and slowly trotted toward Fenlai City.
Only after watching the horse leave did Hillman turn his gaze toward the forest before him. He took a deep breath. Air mingled with the scent of decaying vegetation, raw earth, and a faint trace of blood filled his nose. This was the unique scent of the Magical Beast Forest, a scent in which death and life coexisted. He tightened his grip on the Fine Iron Longsword at his waist. The patterns on its scabbard gleamed coldly in the dim light. This sword had accompanied him through years of battle and cut down countless formidable foes. Today, it would accompany him into this perilous place as well.
Hillman stepped forward, making his way into the outer reaches of the Magical Beast Forest.
Ancient trees towered overhead, blotting out the sky and sun. Their thick trunks would have taken several people joining arms to encircle, and their twisted branches reached toward the sky like ghostly claws, shredding what little sunlight remained. A thick layer of fallen leaves covered the ground, rustling underfoot. Beneath them lay slippery moss and unknown fungi; one careless step could send him slipping. The woods were strangely quiet. Apart from his footsteps, there were only occasional birdcalls, and even those carried a mournful harshness, as though warning intruders that this was no safe place.
Hillman dared not relax for an instant. He suppressed his ninth-level peak aura as much as possible, keeping his steps light and slow as his hawklike gaze swept his surroundings warily. He knew that although Saint-level magical beasts would not be found in the forest's outer reaches, many eighth-level magical beasts held sway there. Most were vicious solitary creatures with an intense sense of territory. The moment they detected an outsider's presence, they would launch a lethal attack without hesitation.
He advanced cautiously along the route marked on the map, stopping every so often to listen to his surroundings. Time slipped by. The light in the forest grew dimmer, and the mist thickened until visibility fell below ten meters. Just as Hillman reached a stream and prepared to bend down for water, an exceedingly dangerous presence suddenly rushed at him from his right!
It moved as fast as lightning, carrying a fierce gust of wind, and was behind him almost in the blink of an eye. Hillman's pupils contracted sharply. Years of combat instinct left him no time to think, and he hurled himself to the left!
Rrrip-
A sharp whistle cut through the air, accompanied by the sound of tearing cloth. Hillman tumbled awkwardly to the ground, a burning pain searing across his back. Looking down, he saw a long slash in his robe, with tiny beads of blood already seeping from the skin beneath it.
So fast!
Hillman's heart tightened. He quickly rolled to his feet and drew his Fine Iron Longsword with a clang, its snow-bright blade pointing straight ahead.
On an ancient tree not far away, a sleek black shape crouched on a thick branch. It had a slender body roughly two meters long, covered in glossy black fur streaked with silvery-white markings like flowing lightning. Its limbs were thick and powerful, its razor-sharp claws glittering coldly. A pair of amber eyes stared fixedly at Hillman, filled with icy killing intent.
A Shadowstripe Leopard!
Hillman's heart jolted as he recognized the magical beast. The Shadowstripe Leopard was a solitary eighth-level magical beast renowned for its speed, which ranked among the very best of eighth-level magical beasts. An ordinary early ninth-level warrior who reacted even a little too slowly could have his throat slit by a single swipe. More frightening still, its claws carried a mild paralytic toxin. Once someone was scratched, the wound would rapidly swell and their whole body would weaken, until they could only become its prey.
Had he not reacted in time just now, its claws might already have pierced his heart.
Seeing that its ambush had failed, the Shadowstripe Leopard crouched on the branch let out a low growl. Its tail swayed gently, and its body arched slightly like a bow ready to loose, the killing intent in its amber eyes growing stronger. Clearly, Hillman's intrusion had enraged the master of this territory.
Hillman tightened his grip on his sword, his palm growing slightly sweaty. He knew he could not afford to defend passively against a Shadowstripe Leopard. This magical beast was too fast. Once it pinned him down, he would be caught in an endless cycle of pursuit and ambush until his strength ran dry and he died there in bitter regret. Only by taking the initiative and disrupting its rhythm would he have a sliver of hope.
Taking a deep breath, Hillman sent the battle qi within him surging wildly and unleashed his ninth-level peak aura without restraint. A tremendous pressure spread outward from him, making the surrounding trees rustle and sending fallen leaves flying. His eyes grew incredibly sharp as he stared fixedly at the Shadowstripe Leopard, his knees bending slightly in readiness to charge at any moment.
Sensing the pressure Hillman released, a trace of wariness flashed through the Shadowstripe Leopard's amber eyes, but it did not retreat. A low growl rumbled in its throat. Its tail lashed, its limbs thrust hard, and it sprang toward Hillman like an arrow loosed from a bow!
This time, it was even faster than before!
Hillman could even hear the piercing sound of its claws slicing through the air and see the coldly gleaming pair carving two icy arcs through the mist. Gritting his teeth, he advanced instead of retreating. He kicked hard against the ground and shot forward like a cannonball, his Fine Iron Longsword wrapped in tremendous battle qi as he slashed savagely at the Shadowstripe Leopard's head!
The sword flashed like snow, its killing intent chilling.
Man and beast began a deadly chase through the dim forest.
The sword collided with sharp claws, sending sparks flying amid a shrill metallic clang. The Shadowstripe Leopard was astonishingly fast, pouncing one moment, dodging the next, then circling behind Hillman to launch a surprise attack. Every strike was vicious and cunning, every move lethal. Drawing on his years of combat experience, Hillman wove an impenetrable defense with his sword. Battle qi flowed over the blade, forming a faint protective layer. His gaze remained locked on the Shadowstripe Leopard as he anticipated its movements. Every swing blocked its claws at just the right moment, and occasionally he caught an opening and struck back.
During the fierce battle, several more wounds of varying depths appeared on Hillman's back and arms. Waves of numbing, stinging pain radiated from them, gradually slowing his movements. He knew he could not keep this up. He had to find an opening in the Shadowstripe Leopard's defenses as quickly as possible and kill it with a single strike.
The Shadowstripe Leopard seemed to notice Hillman's declining condition as well, and its attacks grew fiercer. It gave a piercing roar and leaped high into the air, tucking in its limbs before diving toward Hillman's chest like a black meteor!
Now!
A sharp glint flashed through Hillman's eyes. He abruptly gathered all his remaining battle qi into his sword, and its radiance flared. Rather than defend, he held his sword horizontally and spun, charging toward the Shadowstripe Leopard like a rapidly whirling top!
This was his ultimate trump card-Whirling Slash!
The sword howled as it tore through the air and crashed into the diving Shadowstripe Leopard!
Squelch-
A dull sound rang out.
Hillman's Whirling Slash struck the Shadowstripe Leopard squarely in the abdomen. It was the least protected part of its body. Its hide, difficult even for sharp claws to tear, split as easily as thin paper before the sword imbued with ninth-level peak battle qi.
Blood gushed out, staining Hillman's robes and the fallen leaves on the ground red.
The Shadowstripe Leopard let out an agonized shriek. Its body faltered in midair, then slammed heavily to the ground. It struggled to rise, but its limbs kept twitching, its amber eyes filled with unwillingness and despair. At last, its body gave a violent shudder, and all life left it.
Leaning on his sword, Hillman gulped for breath, every muscle in his body taut as iron. Each breath tugged at his wounds, bringing piercing pain. He looked down at the Shadowstripe Leopard's corpse, then at his own wounds, yet a smile slowly curved his lips.
This had been his first battle since entering the Magical Beast Forest. It had been fraught with danger, but it had also truly set his blood boiling.
He raised his head and looked deeper into the forest, where the mist was thicker and the roars grew clearer. There lay stronger magical beasts, more perilous challenges, and the path to Saint-level he had dreamed of.
Hillman took a deep breath, wiped the blood from his face, and tightened his grip on his sword as he walked deeper into the forest, step by step. Amid the dim woods, his retreating figure grew ever straighter, ever more resolute.
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