Searching

Rotten Wood Marsh lay north-northwest of Spirit City, a stretch of semi-wetland surrounded by old forest. The carriage had traveled for four days, and along the way the scenery had changed from yellow and gray to varying shades of green.

The farther north they went, the colder and damper it grew. When they had first left Spirit City, the wind had still been dry, scraping against their faces like sandpaper. After the third day, the wind outside the curtains was like a knife, carrying the smell of rotting grass and wet earth. A single breath left his throat sticky. Ning Buhui knew they were almost at Rotten Wood Marsh.

On the evening of the fourth day, the driver reined in the horses. Bibi Dong got out first, and Ning Buhui jumped down after her. The moment his feet touched the ground, his soles sank half an inch. Ahead lay a wetland that stretched as far as the eye could see, with dead trees lying at angles and water grasses reaching halfway up a person's height. Several gray herons flapped into the air in the distance, their cries hoarse and urgent.

"It's not suitable to travel at night," Bibi Dong said. "We'll rest for the night and move on at daybreak."

Ning Buhui assented and helped the driver unharness the horses. They found a patch of relatively dry sloping ground and lit a fire. It was a small fire, and the damp wood sent up blue smoke that made his eyes sting. He broke off a piece of dry flatbread and chewed slowly, looking up at the sky. It was overcast, without a single star in sight. Even the moon seemed to have hidden shyly behind the clouds. Only great masses of black clouds hung low, as though they were about to descend over their heads.

Ning Buhui slept lightly that night. The wind off the wetland was cold and damp, and it burrowed straight into his bedding. He had a few hazy dreams, and when he woke, dawn was just breaking. The birds were calling furiously, as if arguing.

The two entered the marsh.

Rotten Wood Marsh was even harder to traverse than it looked from outside. The ground rose and sank beneath their feet. Some places looked like grass, but a step would plunge them into mud, and they had to grab the dead vines nearby to pull their feet free. Ning Buhui was small and short-legged, so he had an especially hard time. Bibi Dong walked ahead at an unhurried pace, as if she were stepping on invisible stones, traversing it as easily as level ground. He didn't complain of fatigue, only kept his head down and followed. Fortunately, they had prepared well and put on deep rain boots before coming, so the worst of it was the difficulty of walking. There was no fear of their shoes getting stuck in the mud and coming out unwearable.

On the first day, they searched only a small area.

The Soul-Binding Vines in Rotten Wood Marsh were even less conspicuous than the illustrations in the guidebook. They grew beneath the roots of rotting trees, their grayish-brown stems creeping flat along the ground. Without a close look, they were no different from rotting grass. But if something came too close, the vines would rise on their own, like snakes lifting their heads, and slowly reach toward the living thing. The older they were, the thicker and darker their stems. The guidebook said that a three-hundred-year-old Soul-Binding Vine was only as thick as a chopstick, while one over eight hundred years old could be as thick as a child's arm. The one Ning Buhui wanted, over six thousand years old, would have to be as thick as a calf.

"Don't rush," Bibi Dong said from behind him, seeing him walk faster and faster.

Ning Buhui slowed his pace. He really was a little anxious. Rotten Wood Marsh was bigger than he had imagined, and the Soul-Binding Vines hid deep. Relying on their eyes alone, there was only so much ground they could search in a day.

"I understand, Teacher," he answered, continuing to push the grass aside with a branch.

The second day went even less smoothly. They did come across a few vines less than a thousand years old, but they all fled in alarm. When they reached the edge of a pool, Ning Buhui nearly stepped on a Bone-Corroding Spider as large as a washbasin. The spider crawled out from under a piece of rotten wood, its eight legs raised high, the black-and-white markings on its body gleaming with an oily sheen. Bibi Dong gave it a single glance. "Not even four hundred years old. Useless." She raised a hand, and the spider darted into the water, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

But they saw no sign of a Soul-Binding Vine around seven thousand years old.

On the third day, they came across a Black-Patterned Snake around seven thousand years old.

The snake was coiled around a dead tree trunk. Its body was pitch-black, with a dark red marking running from just behind its head to its tail. Its age was suitable, but it wasn't their first choice. Ning Buhui stood ten paces away, watching it for quite a while. Bibi Dong said, "It's only a backup. What are you looking at?" Ning Buhui said, "What if we can't find a suitable Soul-Binding Vine? It can be a backup." Bibi Dong said nothing more, and they continued north.

Ning Buhui knew they didn't have much time. They had brought enough provisions for ten days, but the farther north they went in Rotten Wood Marsh, the colder it became, and the frost on the ground grew thicker and thicker. When he got up on the fourth morning, even his breath came out white.

That afternoon, they circled back to an area they had searched before. The wind had flattened all the water grass, exposing a layer of shallow water underneath. Ning Buhui walked on the grass roots and suddenly spotted a thick, dark-brown object in the mud ahead. His heart quickened, and he ran over, using his branch to lift away the floating grass. It wasn't a Soul-Binding Vine, but a half-submerged piece of rotten wood, swollen from soaking in water and very like one.

He stood there without moving for a long while.

"Discouraged?" Bibi Dong had come to his side without his noticing.

"No." Ning Buhui threw away the branch and patted the mud from his hands. "Teacher, Rotten Wood Marsh is too big. Searching like this, we might not find one even in ten days. I'd like to go a little deeper north and take a look. The guidebook says there's an old root ground there, where many trees died a long time ago. Soul-Binding Vines are most likely to gather there."

"It's extremely cold and damp deep in the north," Bibi Dong said. "You can withstand it."

She had made it a statement. Ning Buhui nodded. "Even if I can't, I have to bear it."

So they turned north.

On the morning of the fifth day, fog rose over Rotten Wood Marsh. It didn't drift, but crept along the ground, as if it had grown out of the mud. The way became even harder. Even Bibi Dong slowed her pace. Ning Buhui followed two steps behind her, his toes numb with cold inside his boots. As he walked, he probed the ground with a branch to keep from sinking into deep mud.

Suddenly, Bibi Dong stopped.

"Listen."

Ning Buhui held his breath. A faint sound came from within the fog, as though carried on the wind. He listened for quite a while before he made it out: dull thuds, the sound of something heavy lashing down, and a very faint metallic scraping, as though something were fighting deep in the fog.

"Soul Beasts are fighting," Bibi Dong said.

The two exchanged a glance. Bibi Dong raised a hand and pressed it lightly on Ning Buhui's shoulder, signaling him to stay quiet. One behind the other, they crept toward the sound.

The closer they got, the clearer the sounds became. Through the foul mist, they could see a scene of chaos. Several dead tree trunks lay broken on the ground, and mud had splattered everywhere, still warm. A little closer, and Ning Buhui finally saw it.

A mantis.

It was much larger than an ordinary mantis-type Soul Beast, gray-green all over, with its wings half-spread across its back. Its forelimbs were like a pair of folding blades, chopping downward furiously. Its target was a mass of vines surging from the mud. The vines were enormous, as thick as an adult's calf, dark brown and covered in fine, dense markings. They looked terrifying. Seven or eight vines writhed at once, constantly wrapping around the mantis and lashing at it. Their stems were covered in barbs, and every strike sent muddy water flying. But the mantis was faster. Every time its forelimbs fell, a vine was cut in two.

"A Void Mantis," Bibi Dong said quietly. "It's over ten thousand years old."

Ning Buhui's gaze never left the vines. He counted: more than three had already been severed. The remaining vines were still fighting back, but their speed and strength had diminished. Several deep gashes split their dark-brown skin, oozing dark green sap.

"A Soul-Binding Vine!" He heard his own breathing grow softer. "At least seven thousand years old... almost eight thousand."

Bibi Dong said nothing, only narrowed her eyes. She had seen it too, of course.

"Teacher." Ning Buhui's throat tightened. He wanted to say that if they didn't act soon, the vine wouldn't be able to hold on and would die.

Without turning around, Bibi Dong said quietly, "Wait here."

The next second, she moved.

Ning Buhui's vision blurred. Bibi Dong had already swept through the fog and appeared at the edge of the battlefield. Her Soul Devouring Spider Emperor Martial Soul activated, and the Soul Rings beneath her feet lit up one after another. Among the brightest, her Sixth Soul Ring suddenly blazed.

"Eternal Wound."

A massive green X-shaped Qi blade appeared out of nowhere, like two giant scythes slashing down across each other. The green light was so bright it hurt the eyes. The mantis sensed danger and beat its wings to dodge, but Bibi Dong's attack was faster than its wingbeat. The Qi blade sealed off its escape to either side, as if she had calculated exactly where it would dodge. A shriek rang out as the X-shaped Qi blade slashed through the hard junction between the mantis's head and thorax. It stiffened abruptly. The green blade-light sank into its body, pierced it with ease, and emerged from the other side. Before the mantis could swing a second time, it crashed heavily into the mud. Its six legs twitched a few times, then went still.

Ning Buhui stood where he was. From reading the book, he had known that Eternal Wound was Bibi Dong's most damaging Soul Skill. He knew it was powerful, but he hadn't expected it to be this powerful. A Ten-Thousand-Year Soul Beast couldn't withstand even one strike.

A Ten-Thousand-Year Soul Beast, killed in a single strike.

Bibi Dong didn't look at the mantis's corpse. She turned to the Soul-Binding Vine's stems, driven to the brink. They had lost their strength and lay limply in the mud, twitching now and then like a dying python struggling for life. A purple Soul Ring lit up beneath Bibi Dong's feet, and the third Soul Skill of her Death Spider Emperor Martial Soul, Spider Web Restraint, activated again. A web flickering with eerie light bound it firmly to the ground. The Soul-Binding Vine struggled twice, then, as if it already knew its fate, finally stopped moving altogether. Only the tips of its vines trembled faintly.

"Come here," Bibi Dong said.

Ning Buhui ran through the mud toward her. The Soul-Binding Vine was in worse shape than he had imagined. Nearly half its main stem had been severed, and the remaining vines lay in the mud like snakes with their sinews pulled out. He could tell its age at a glance: nearly eight thousand years. That was far beyond his original plan, but after the setbacks of the past few days, with a living Soul-Binding Vine lying at his feet, within reach, he had no choice.

"It's a little older than we originally planned. Whether to absorb it or go back and find that seven-thousand-year-old Black-Patterned Snake is your decision," Bibi Dong said. "This is your last chance to change your mind. Absorbing one that's too old carries a great risk. Once you begin, I may not be able to save you in time."

Ning Buhui crouched down and reached out to touch the stem lightly. It was cold and slimy, its surface covered in barbs that pricked his fingertips painfully. Looking at the gravely wounded, dying Soul-Binding Vine, he had no second thought. Then he spoke:

"This one!"

With that, a hunting knife slid from his sleeve. He aimed the blade at the softest part of the vine's core and stabbed down hard.

The Soul-Binding Vine shuddered violently. Its few remaining stems rose at once, lashing wildly through the air, before all falling back into the mud, never to move again.

A deep purple Soul Ring slowly rose above the vine's corpse.

Ning Buhui sat down cross-legged and summoned his Martial Soul. He stretched out his right hand, and Soul Power flowed from his fingertips in fine threads, winding toward the Soul Ring. Drawn by his Soul Power, the ring slowly floated above his head. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began absorbing the Soul Ring, whose age exceeded the limit he could safely withstand.

The purple ring of light suddenly contracted to the size of a dark purple bracelet and settled around the Nine Hell Soul-Suppressing Pagoda. A torrent of violent energy surged through his Martial Soul into his meridians. Ning Buhui shuddered all over, his expression abruptly stiffening. The Soul Power exceeded his limit, swelling until his whole body burned. His bones creaked faintly, and the energy coursed through his meridians, causing unbearable pain. Fine beads of sweat appeared at his temples, and his body trembled slightly.

It hurt more than he had imagined, and was harder to endure. Even with the Nine Hell Soul-Suppressing Pagoda weakening and suppressing it, the pain was countless times worse than it had been with the Netherlight Butterfly. Excruciating pain spread densely from his meridians into every limb and bone. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to stay conscious, refusing to let the pain make him faint. A thread of bright red ran from the corner of his mouth; he had bitten down until he bled. The Nine Hell Soul-Suppressing Pagoda flickered before him, and the yin-yang fish swam rapidly and wildly around him as if alive.

He kept telling himself, Hold on. If I faint, all the suffering I'm enduring now will have been for nothing. Even if I die, I have to hold on!

Not far away, Bibi Dong stood quietly, her gaze fixed on him.

The fog thickened. There was no sound in Rotten Wood Marsh, as though the whole wetland had held its breath, watching this child who was about to turn seven and the eight-thousand-year Soul Ring that was about to be refined.