Severely wounded
The heavy snow continued without stopping for a moment.
The entire Trial Grounds had long been filled with snow from the continuous blizzards. The potholes, gullies, rocks, and bushes on the ground were all buried under the thick snow. The world was a pale white expanse, with an unobstructed view.
There are no earthen slopes, rocks, or shrubs here; there are no shelters or cover to hide in.
A biting wind swept horizontally across the snow-covered plain, fine snowflakes pelting against cheeks, eyelids, and the edges of the mask, chilling to the bone. The low temperature felt like countless ice blades cutting into the skin, quickly freezing the surface until it became numb and stiff. The swirling snow continued to obscure the view, the distance appearing hazy and white, while the nearby glare stung the eyes, making them ache. Prolonged exposure to this scene could easily breed feelings of emptiness and panic.
The entire training ground was deathly silent, so quiet it was suffocating; the only sound was the rustling of wind and snow, and not a single living creature could be heard.
Several tens of seconds had passed since the Mixed-Toxin Bait was fed to the Forest Rock Tiger.
Lu Heng stood outside the invisible boundary of the trial, his muscles tense, his gaze fixed on the giant beast lurking in the snow, unwilling to miss the slightest movement.
The tiger appeared to be lying lazily, its head resting on its front paws, its thick fur covered in snow, seemingly oblivious to the wind and snow as if in a deep sleep, completely unaware of the hidden scheme.
But Lu Heng observation revealed that its breathing had become erratic.
The once steady, long, and evenly rhythmic rise and fall of the chest was now erratic, with each inhalation feeling labored and each exhaled breath several times thicker than before.
Not only was its breathing disordered, but the behemoth would also unconsciously twist its body slightly, the movements so subtle that they were imperceptible to ordinary people. This was not caused by the wind and snow, but by the continuous erosion of its body by the poison of the Cold Stiff and the Spider Venom, causing waves of uncontrollable numbness and discomfort to emanate from its skin, flesh, and nerves.
Neither of these toxins is a potent poison that delivers an instantaneous burst of damage. They are gentle and gradual, causing no tearing or excruciating pain, but rather slowly eroding physical strength, slowing nerve conduction, and hindering muscle explosive power.
The tiger did not go berserk and roll, but its overall movements were subtly slowed by a fraction of a second; its reaction, turning, and exertion were all slightly delayed.
This tiny flaw was the only chance for survival that Lu Heng had gained by taking a huge risk.
He dared not delay. The longer it went on, the more resistant the beast's body would become to the toxin, and the drug's potency would continue to weaken. All the arrangements he had made in the previous half hour—ambushing the prey in the snow and feeding it the poison—would be in vain.
Without taking a moment to recover, Lu Heng stepped into the Trial Circle, the thick snow crunching under his feet with a faint squeezing sound.
In an instant, the malevolent aura of the entire snowfield converged upon him.
He raised his hand and firmly gripped the Hand Crossbow, the sights locked onto the tiger's head. He aimed at the skull, the only fatal weakness, with the sole purpose of severely injuring the beast with a single arrow and crippling its fighting ability. He held nothing back when he pulled the trigger.
But the harsh environment ruined the attack.
The swirling snowflakes constantly obscured his aim, the horizontal gale continued to pull the crossbow barrel, and the bright light reflected off the white snow made his vision blurry. Even though he tried his best to focus his gaze and steady his arm, he still missed the target by a fraction of an inch when he pulled the trigger.
The slightest deviation could mean the difference between life and death.
With a sharp whoosh, the crossbow bolt pierced through the wind and snow, grazed the tiger's thick fur, avoided its skull, and sank deep into the tiger's shoulder.
With a soft thud, the arrowhead pierced deep into the flesh, the fletching trembling violently, and warm, dark red blood instantly soaked into the surrounding white fur. However, the temperature on the snowy plain was extremely low, and the blood froze quickly as soon as it seeped out of the skin. The falling snow quickly covered the faint bloodstains, leaving only a sunken, dark wound.
The flesh wounds were indeed severe, and the pain was real, but they failed to damage the bones and nerves, and could not completely restrict the movement of this Black Iron overlord.
Lu Heng sank, realizing he was in trouble. His fingertips swiftly reached for the second arrow, intending to take advantage of the beast's momentary lapse in pain and weakness to deliver a fatal blow and suppress its fighting power.
But the next second, he truly witnessed the terrifying physical endurance of a top-tier ferocious beast.
The Giant-Horned Deer and Gray-Fang Wolf Pack they had encountered before were no match for this beast. Those creatures would rapidly decline in function after being poisoned or injured, becoming stiff and weak, and easily exhausted to death. The Forest Rock Tiger was completely different; the double toxins could only weaken its endurance and could not suppress its sudden burst of ferocity.
The tiger didn't flinch or flinch the moment it was struck by the arrow in the shoulder.
Without bowing its head to examine its wounds, without roaring to vent its pain, its previously half-closed beastly eyes suddenly widened, the gentleness fading away, leaving only a thick, cold, bloodthirsty killing intent. Its massive body, weighing hundreds of pounds, suddenly erupted without warning, without any build-up or preparation, its sprinting speed too fast for the naked eye to follow.
Before the danger warning could even form in Lu Heng's mind, the hairs on his body stood on end, and a chilling sense of crisis gripped his heart.
His survival instinct drove him to make an immediate judgment: he absolutely could not retreat. Retreating at a steady pace would only expose his entire torso to the tiger's claws and teeth, and he would only die faster. The only way out was to dodge sharply to the side.
Lu Heng twisted his waist and abdomen sharply, shifting his center of gravity rapidly to the left, and tried his best to slide sideways across the snow to dodge. However, the snow was deep and soft, and his shoes slipped as soon as he stepped on it, causing him to lose his balance and fall short by a full half step.
He barely managed to dodge the frontal attack and avoid a fatal blow to the throat and head, thus narrowly escaping death.
But feline predators have more than one deadly move.
The tiger leaped into the air, twisting its body and unleashing its long, muscular tail, as thick as a forearm, like a whip made of tempered iron, sweeping out with immense force.
A dull, explosive impact reverberated across the vast snowfield as the tiger's tail lashed solidly across Lu Heng's side.
The Tusked Wild Boar Leather Armor on its body was dented and deformed on the spot. The thick leather barely protected its internal organs from being directly torn open, but the brute force penetrated the layers of protection and directly impacted its muscles, bones and internal organs.
The immense impact was like a battering ram striking him, sending Lu Heng flying several meters sideways before crashing heavily into the snow, sending large swaths of snowflakes flying in all directions. The icy snow and ice instantly filled his collar and cuffs, the biting cold seeping into his bones through his skin.
More deadly than the bitter cold is severe internal injury.
A complex mix of excruciating pain surged through my lower back and abdomen: the aching from the blunt force, the numbness from the shock, the tearing of dislocated tendons and bones, the churning of displaced internal organs—a multitude of pains intertwined and swept through my entire body. My internal energy and blood were out of control, colliding with my meridians, and a strong, metallic taste surged wildly into my throat.
Lu Heng clenched his teeth, forcing back the blood that welled up in his mouth. His mouth was filled with a metallic, astringent taste, and his chest felt suffocated. His entire left arm was sore and weak from the shock that he couldn't lift it at all. Half of his body was stiff and numb, almost losing all feeling. Snowflakes covered his eyelashes, his vision blurred, and his head felt dizzy and lightheaded.
But he dared not pause for even a moment.
In a life-or-death struggle, falling to the ground means death. If he pauses even slightly to catch his breath, the enraged tiger will immediately pounce and tear his body apart.
In this desperate situation, Lu Heng suppressed the excruciating pain tearing through his body. Using the momentum of his landing, he tumbled half a circle in the snow. His trembling right hand reached for the Bronze Hunting Blade at his waist, and he used the tip of the blade to pierce the frozen snow for leverage, inch by inch supporting his swaying, exhausted body as he stood up.
His heavy, rapid breathing mingled with the wind and snow, exhaling puffs of white mist. With each breath, his internal injuries to his waist and abdomen would twitch violently, the excruciating pain continuously eroding his remaining willpower.