The silence that descended upon the shattered clearing was dense, almost suffocating, broken only by Lin Feng's pained gasps and the soft, strange pulsating sound emanating from the creature at his feet. Glob, his newborn chaotic companion, was rubbing against his boot with an insistence that might have been tender if the situation weren't so absurdly precarious.
Lin Feng spat out a mixture of blood and dirt. His body was a concert of agony: ribs protesting with every breath, torn muscles burning like fire, and an icy void in his dantian where that storm of chaotic power had once resided. Glob's "birth" had left him physically and energetically on the verge of collapse. The brief euphoria of having survived the thugs was rapidly dissipating before the stark reality of his condition.
"Well, spawn of the abyss," he muttered, a crooked, bloody smile curving his lips as he looked at the small dark slime. "It seems my entry into the exclusive club of 'single fathers of primordial creatures' has been a bit... explosive. And you, with your appetite for making idiots pay, I'm afraid you'll have to wait. Right now, I can barely stand, much less start a crusade of vengeance."
Glob emitted a soft vibration, a pulse of something Lin Feng interpreted as a mix of loyalty and a strange… concern? The connection between them was undeniable, a silent resonance that went beyond words.
He knew he couldn't stay there. The shouts of Li Wei and the other fleeing thugs ("Demon! Forbidden arts!") would echo through this part of the forest. Though their current terror had made them run, their stupidity and greed might bring them back with reinforcements, or worse, attract the attention of some particularly inquisitive deacon or inner disciple. And the eruption of chaotic energy that had accompanied Glob's birth… that wasn't something easily overlooked in a place as saturated with spiritual Qi as the Umbral Ridge.
With an effort that tore a groan from him, Lin Feng leaned on his trusty shovel—his "Dao" now with a new and much more literal meaning of "survival tool"—and staggered to his feet. Every movement was torture. Glob adhered to his ankle, as if trying to offer support with its small mass.
"We have to move, Little One," Lin Feng said, using the nickname that had instinctively sprung to his mind for Glob. "This clearing isn't safe anymore. We need to find shelter, and fast."
But fate, or the simple, damn bad luck that seemed to be his most constant companion, had other plans.
Just as he took the first hesitant step out of the clearing, a guttural roar, much deeper and more menacing than the howls of the Crystal Foxes or the grunts of the Black-Tusked Boars, shook the ground beneath his feet. Nearby trees shuddered, and a wave of spiritual pressure, cold and heavy with a primordial bloodlust, swept through the area.
Lin Feng froze. That pressure… it was from a beast of a much higher level than anything he had faced so far, even higher than the beast he had seen Xiao Lan fight from a distance. Glob's eruption of chaotic energy, or perhaps the scent of fresh blood from his own wounds and those of the thugs, had attracted it.
From the densest undergrowth, where the shadows were deepest, emerged a creature that froze the blood in Lin Feng's veins. It was a Shadow Devourer, a beast feared in the depths of the Umbral Ridge. Its body, the size of a buffalo, seemed woven from the very darkness of the forest, its contours shifting and flowing like solidified smoke. Multiple red, pupilless eyes gleamed with a cold, calculating intelligence from a vaguely reptilian head. And from its jaws, bristling with teeth like obsidian needles, dripped a dark saliva that sizzled upon touching the ground, dissolving the frost.
The Shadow Devourer sniffed the air, its multiple eyes fixing first on the remains of the battle, then, inexorably, on Lin Feng.
"Shit," was the only eloquent thought that crossed Lin Feng's mind. This wasn't a beast he could face with cunning or a lucky shovel strike. This was a predator of an entirely different caliber, one that probably ate Basilisks for appetizers.
Glob, clinging to his ankle, vibrated with an intensity Lin Feng had never felt before, a mixture of pure terror and surprising protective ferocity. Small tendrils of dark ooze bristled, and an almost imperceptible aura of distortion surrounded the slime.
The Shadow Devourer let out a low growl, a sound that promised a slow and painful death. It took a step towards them.
Lin Feng knew he had no options. Fighting was guaranteed suicide. His chaotic energy was depleted from Glob's "birth," and his body was at its limit. Fleeing blindly would only make him an easier prey.
Then, a desperate memory flashed in his mind: the image of Xiao Lan, her Purifying Fire dancing, her power like that of a war goddess. He remembered the general direction where he had seen her fight the Glacial Blizzard Beast. It was far, yes, and there was no guarantee she would still be there, nor that she would help him if he found her. But it was the only chance, however remote.
"To hell with shame," he thought with a grimace that tried to be a smile but only managed to be a rictus of despair. His "Scrap Hunter's Manual" didn't have a chapter for this, but if it did, Rule Number Four would undoubtedly be: "When facing certain annihilation, seek a slightly less certain annihilation with better views."
"Little One," he mentally transmitted to Glob, sensing the creature's instinctive understanding. "We're going to visit the goddess of ice and fire. And pray to whatever dark chaos god you believe in that she's in a good mood… or at least, distracted enough not to incinerate us on the spot."
With the Shadow Devourer's roar echoing behind him like the thunder of an imminent execution, Lin Feng turned on his heels and, with Glob clinging to him like a second dark skin, began the most desperate run of his life, heading towards the area where he had witnessed Xiao Lan's terrifying power and lethal beauty.
Every step was agony. His wounds tore open, blood staining the snow and frozen earth. The icy air burned his lungs. The pain in his dantian was constant torture. But he kept running, driven by a mixture of pure terror and that stubborn will to live that refused to be extinguished. Glob, somehow, seemed to help him, its small mass clinging to him subtly lightening his load or emitting a cold energy that numbed some of the pain, allowing him to push on when his own strength threatened to fail.
Behind them, the Shadow Devourer followed, not in a hurry, but with the confidence of a predator that knows its prey has no escape. Its occasional roars were like funeral bells, drawing ever closer.
Lin Feng ran through thorny thickets that tore at his clothes and skin, waded through icy streams that numbed his legs, and climbed small rocky ledges with trembling hands. His mind was a whirlwind of pain, fear, and a single, obsessive idea: reach Xiao Lan. He didn't expect her to save him out of compassion. He knew that to someone of her caliber, he was less than an insect. But perhaps, just perhaps, the beast chasing him might be a threat even to her, or at least, a big enough distraction for him to slip away in the resulting chaos. Or perhaps, in the worst-case scenario, his death would serve as a warning to her. A final, pathetic service.
"Such a noble thought, Lin Feng," an inner voice mocked. "Martyr by convenience. Your epitaph will be legendary."
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of desperate running, he recognized the terrain. The frozen valley where Xiao Lan had fought the Glacial Blizzard Beast opened up before him. The beast's corpse still lay there, a mountain of white fur and bluish ice, though it was already being pecked at by sinister-looking carrion birds.
But where was Xiao Lan? Had she already left?
A new terror, colder than the Shadow Devourer's breath, seized Lin Feng. If she wasn't there, he was doomed.
Then, he saw her.
She wasn't in the center of the valley, but in a small side clearing, partially hidden by ice pillars that seemed carved by nature. She was sitting in a lotus position on a frost-covered rock, her eyes closed in meditation, her aura of power contained yet still palpable, like a latent fire beneath ashes. She seemed to be recovering her energy after her own arduous battle. And she was alone. Her three companions were nowhere in sight.
The Shadow Devourer's roar sounded right behind Lin Feng, much closer now. There was no time to think, no time for subtleties.
With his last ounce of strength, Lin Feng lunged towards the clearing, towards Xiao Lan's meditative figure, shouting in a voice that was a mixture of desperation and an audacity born of absolute terror: "Noble Fairy Xiao Lan! Forgive my intrusion, but a demonic beast from the depths of the abyss, likely offended by your celestial magnificence, is pursuing me with genocidal intent! This humble scum implores your divine intervention!"
His arrival was so abrupt, so pathetic, and so loud that it shattered the clearing's serenity like a stone thrown into a frozen pond.
Xiao Lan opened her eyes instantly, and in them was a glint of surprise and icy annoyance.
But before she could utter a single word, the Shadow Devourer burst into the clearing, its multiple red eyes fixing first on Lin Feng, then on the new and much more powerful source of Qi that was Xiao Lan.
A new and much more dangerous game had just begun. And Lin Feng, the fertilizer specialist, had just dragged the sect's goddess into his own personal hell.