Han Lingyun jumped to the side but was once again pummeled by the trailing tail. How much muscle did this snake have?
At this point, Han Lingyun regretted even more not having learned a defense type magical art. He cursed but there was no point losing brain cells on what could have been, as there was a more pressing issue.
Han Lingyun could only fight the beast head on. What followed was a violent unhinged fight with fists and kicks. The snake had the advantage in speed, so Han Lingyun tried grabbing it behind his arm to restrain it. Without his exceptional dodging skills that came with his blackbird art, Han Lingyun would have probably already died as the snake’s menacing mouth kept on harassing him.
The young man only had a rudimentary knowledge of fighting without weapons and that snake was surprisingly muscular and agile. Both used qi to reinforce their muscles as they collided in dull booms. Han Lingyun did his best to repeatedly punch the snake’s head multiple times, but it was harder than a rock. The boy could only contend because of his extraordinary strength, enhanced by bones as tough as steel.
Han Lingyun was walking on a tightrope as he had to constantly maneuver to not end up encircled by the snake, repeatedly letting the snake go and diving in once again. The beast was also doing its best to restrict its prey. It seemed to be consumed by a mad frenzy as it sensed the benefit consuming the flesh of this human would bring it.
By concentrating to the utmost with mental strength he didn’t know he possessed, Han Lingyun gradually entered a trance without noticing it. Unknowingly, his qi circulation gradually became more fluid and precise. In the beginning, the snake was capable of exchanging violent blows with the boy but strangely, as time passed, it failed more and more to block or hit him.
The snake, which had a higher intellect than regular wildlife, started becoming confused by what was happening, sensing the air growing colder. A growing sense of threat helped it recover its usual clarity of mind, stop its frenzied attacks and decide to end this matter here by retreating. It too was starting to be severely injured with broken bones.
It was at the instant the snake bolted away that the air seemed to freeze, and Han Lingyun felt something click in his mind. He slashed the air with his hand and managed to launch a qi blade as if his hand was a treasure sword!
At this close proximity, the snake didn’t have time to dodge, and its head was instantly severed.
Han Lingyun icily looked at the dead beast at his feet. There was no wild elation, no fear and not even some traces of satisfaction on his weirdly placid face.
Han Lingyun didn’t remain on site and rushed away. A bit further, he climbed a tall tree and finally deactivated his black bird art. His cold face finally lost composure. Han Lingyun breathed a huge sigh of relief on still having his little life.
At this point, his body was aching all over with many soar points. His eyes revealed pridefulness for a short moment but this feeling was immediately overshadowed by growing terror.
Now that it was over and the death threat had passed, the dopamine that overflowed in his veins was already receding.
When his mind felt slightly clearer, Han Lingyun realized bitterly that he wouldn’t make it on time. The despairing feeling engulfed him whole. He wanted to cry but his eyes didn’t water. He just shivered.
At this point, it was too much.
After an unknown time, Han Lingyun thought of circulating his blackbird art. It helped him calm down once again.
‘I’ll sleep first. If I continue pushing forward like this, I will die faster.’
Han Lingyun wedged himself with the trunk and two large branches and closed his eyes. However, even with his mind at the end of its rope, the sleep just wouldn’t come.
Resigning himself to his inability to fall asleep, Han Lingyun meditated instead.
It seemed that after Han Lingyun came to terms with his inevitable failure, the ringing pain in his head gradually went away. What replaced it was a strange sense of relief. With nothing to lose except one’s life, there was a lot less to fear.
When he tried it, Han Lingyun even felt that his blackbird art fused better than usual to his surroundings than usual.
During the night, Han Lingyun didn’t move a muscle, attentively listening to the sounds of the magic beasts in the area. He seemed to recognize the Crazed Warthog crashing into a tree. Appreciating its power with the sounds of destruction, Han Lingyun examined himself and felt lucky to have killed the snake before this beast appeared.
Throughout the night, his piercing gaze spotted two groups of cultivators flying by. Calculating thoughts started emerging.
The forest has always been a common place for accidents. Who could be certain of being able to defend itself against its hidden horror?
Interestingly, when sect members venture into the forest, most of the deaths are caused by infighting rather than magic beasts. This has been an intemporal issue for small and large sects.
Morals seem to fade after one disappears in the forest. After all, if there is no one to judge an immoral action, can it be still considered immoral?
And what of codes of conduct? The morality in the society of the cultivation world has always been one of rationality and serving one’s interest. In a complex environment with a multitude of individuals, such as inside the sect, it necessarily dictates a certain code of conduct. But even this reference point is corrupted. Then when one removes the complexity of the sect, for some, absolute rationality becomes the morality. For others, the lack of boundaries becomes the right for unrestrained freedom and everything it entails.
In any case, when two cultivators discover a priceless spirit flower or manage to kill a powerful magic beast together, the only remaining barrier against barbarism is often mutual fear. But when the balance tilts sufficiently to one side…
And yet, even with high death rates, throwing disciples into the forest has always been a common tempering exercise for sects. Han Lingyun himself was currently suffering from this practice. And the elder that took him here, protector Shun, most likely had a similar experience when he was younger.
If sects keep this practice despite the death rate, it’s because the benefits out way the losses. Sects suffer from the same natural selection as cultivators: the sects with less optimal methods tend to be eliminated.
Cultivators remaining in the comfort of the sect walls might have an easier time at first, but their untroubled road will hinder their progression later on. And because what truly matters to describe the strength of a force are its highest-level figure, one can imagine why sects favor these methods.
Bringing disciples into the forest, combat experience is only a secondary objective. The true goal is to make those disciples face death, or at least face themselves. Hidden under the leaves, one’s hidden self can emerge. In theory, the surviving ones should have a stronger dao heart and be less likely to suffer from one of every cultivator’s greatest terror: mental demons.
At least this was the common belief. But thinking about it, the one’s in power where the one’s that had survived this hurdle, they naturally could only see one side of the picture.
…
Han Lingyun was still patiently waiting. The deadline didn’t feel so urgent anymore. Right there, this was the third group he had spotted, passing above the forest on their flying swords. Han Lingyun surmised that there should be cultivation sects around. As the three cultivators disappeared in the distance, Han Lingyun didn’t pay them much heed. Alone and without any tools or weapons, without a special circumstance, he was at the mercy of an average small group of qi condensation disciples.
Some dozens of minutes later, he saw the same three disciples passing by in the opposite direction. Han Lingyun squinted his eyes as his mind started racing. When the disciples passed by once again a third time after half an hour, a self-depreciating smile appeared on his face.
These disciples were obviously searching for something. And in this forest, there wasn’t much to look for except hunting magic beast. Han Lingyun was 80% confident that he had stumbled on a group of disciples searching for magic beasts in the area.
Han Lingyun closed his eyes and leaned back on the trunk with a sigh. Opening his eyes, his gaze fell on the box. Right now, it felt like it was burning his skin. His face contorted as his eyes revealed of hint of understanding.
‘So, this is what these elders are expecting from me after all…
Ha! Well played, truly well played. Indeed, that’s the only way. It was planned from the beginning.’
After a moment of pondering, Han Lingyun jumped down from the tree, his gaze turning icy as he activated the blackbird art. ‘And if I begin, I must go until the end.’
