The terrain of the Primeval Forest was even more oppressive than the marshlands.
Here, trees routinely soared over a hundred meters high, their trunks so massive that five or six men linking arms could barely encircle them. The canopy blotted out the sky, allowing only scattered flecks of light to pierce the layered foliage and dapple the forest floor. The air was thick with the damp stench of rotting leaves, laced with a faint, cloying sweetness—Lingque's analysis confirmed it carried hallucinogenic properties; prolonged exposure could induce severe illusions.
The five donned their gas masks and advanced in tactical formation.
Iron Shield led from the front, shield raised at chest level, every step steady and deliberate. Hawkeye brought up the rear, sniper rifle cradled in his arms, frequently scanning both their back trail and the canopy above through his scope. Lingque remained in the center, her terminal streaming real-time drone feeds. Lu Chen and Wang Meng flanked the formation, alert to either side.
After roughly two kilometers, Lingque suddenly raised her hand.
"Energy signatures ahead, three hundred meters," she whispered. "Four targets, concealed in the trees. Levels between 28 and 31. Human— not beasts."
"Positions," Wang Meng asked.
Lingque projected a 3D terrain map, marking four red points—each perched about twenty meters above ground on thick branches, arranged in a semicircle that neatly flanked a narrow path.
"An ambush," Lu Chen said calmly. "They'll strike from above once we pass."
"How do we handle it?" Iron Shield glanced back.
"They hold the high ground—frontal assault would be costly. Detouring wastes time and risks more traps." Lu Chen paused. "Hawkeye, how many can you lock onto simultaneously?"
"Two," Hawkeye replied after a brief observation. "The other two are screened by the trunks."
"Good. Take those two first. Lingque, draw their attention with a drone. Iron Shield, cover Lingque after the first volley. Wang Meng and I will take the rest from the trees."
Orders given, the squad moved instantly.
Lingque guided a drone over the ambush site, deliberately letting its buzz echo through the branches. A second drone quietly circled to the flank, recording.
The ambushers took the bait.
The moment their attention shifted upward, Hawkeye pulled the trigger.
Bang. Bang.
Two armor-piercing rounds cracked through the forest.
One ambusher was struck squarely in the chest, falling dead before he hit the ground. The second took a round through the shoulder, crashing down and struggling to rise.
The remaining two reacted at once, leaping from the trees and hurling concealed weapons toward the drone.
Clang, clang, clang—
Iron Shield raised his shield in time, deflecting the flying darts aimed at Lingque.
At the same instant, Lu Chen and Wang Meng moved.
[Demon-Suppressing Step] activated—Lu Chen shot up the trunk like a shadow, tapping bark with his toes, reaching ten meters in a blink. Wang Meng followed, slower but steadier, embedding his combat knife into the trunk to climb.
The two ambushers had barely landed when Lu Chen descended from above.
The Demon-Slaying Blade flashed silver.
One man raised his weapon in panic.
Crack—
Blade snapped. Life ended.
The other tried to flee. Wang Meng intercepted from the flank, his knife driving straight toward the heart. The man twisted just enough to avoid instant death, but his shoulder was pierced through. He screamed and collapsed.
From start to finish, the fight lasted less than fifteen seconds.
Four ambushers—three dead, one gravely wounded.
Lu Chen stepped before the survivor, a young man in his twenties, dressed in plain gray garb without sect insignia—a rogue cultivator.
"Who sent you?" Lu Chen asked.
The man clutched his shattered shoulder, face ashen. "N-no one… we just wanted points…"
Lu Chen placed a boot on the wound.
A scream tore through the forest.
"Say it again," Lu Chen said evenly.
"I'll talk! I'll talk!" The man sobbed. "It was Qingyun Sect! They spread word yesterday—anyone who ambushes you, success or not, gets ten Qi-Replenishing Pills! We're loose cultivators—we don't have enough pills, so we—"
"Where are they?"
"I-I don't know… they said they'd leave marks in the forest. Afterward we'd follow them to collect the reward…"
"What marks?"
"A… a carved Qingyun cloud on tree trunks…"
Lu Chen lifted his foot and nodded to Wang Meng.
One clean strike. Silence.
"Clear the field," Lu Chen said.
The four carried nothing of value—some mediocre pills and a handful of point crystals. After distribution, each member gained another three points.
"They're mobilizing the masses," Lingque analyzed. "Using pills as bait to turn rogues and minor sects into expendable scouts—draining our stamina while tracking our movements."
"Dirty, but effective," Wang Meng frowned. "There are at least two hundred contestants in this forest. If half are bought off—"
"Then we kill them all," Lu Chen replied calmly. "One comes, one dies. Two come, both die. Kill until no one dares take their bounty."
He checked the rankings. Their squad had risen to fifth place—127 points total. Bai Yunsheng still led, but by only twenty points now. The gap was closing.
"Move on," Lu Chen said. "If they want to play, we'll play to the end."
The squad pressed deeper into the Primeval Forest.
Over the next two hours, they encountered three more ambushes.
The first was a group of five level-25 rogues hidden in dense vines. Lu Chen detected them early using [Ancient Ring Soul Perception]; Hawkeye eliminated two from two hundred meters out, while Wang Meng and Iron Shield finished the rest in close combat.
The second was a seven-man minor sect team led by a level-31 cultivator. They attempted a trap—driving a wounded level-28 Ironhorn Bull onto the path, planning to strike while the squad was distracted. Lu Chen ignored the beast entirely, circling around to wipe out the ambushers instead.
The third was the most troublesome.
Blazing Sect.
Five disciples, all fire cultivators, led by a level-32 red-haired brute wielding a flaming greataxe. No ambush—just a direct blockade.
"Lin Xiao!" the brute roared. "Hand over your points, sever one arm, and I'll spare your life!"
"So Blazing Sect has become Qingyun's dog too?" Lu Chen raised a brow.
"Bullshit!" the man snarled. "We're here for revenge. You stole our prey in the prelims—remember?"
Lu Chen thought briefly. He did recall casually snatching a few beasts from a red-clad team in the virtual battlefield.
"So?" he asked.
"So you die today!" The axe swung down. "Formation!"
Five disciples spread into a star pattern, unleashing streams of fire that wove into a blazing net descending upon the squad. The air warped; heat surged.
"Scatter!" Wang Meng shouted.
They dodged in separate directions, but the fire net split, homing in on each of them.
Iron Shield braced, shield glowing red-hot. Hawkeye rolled frantically, flames licking his cloak. Lingque lagged behind—about to be engulfed—
Lu Chen advanced.
Straight into the fire net.
The Demon-Slaying Blade rose, dark-gold runes igniting.
Demon-Suppressing Scripture, Second Form — Severing Demon Slash.
A technique designed to break barriers, formations, and spells.
One strike.
The fire net tore apart like paper.
Lu Chen surged forward, blade aimed at the red-haired leader.
"What?!" The man barely raised his axe.
Clang!
Steel and blade collided. Sparks flew. The brute staggered back three steps, his grip splitting, blood running down the haft.
"What kind of technique is that?!"
"The kind that kills you."
This time, Lu Chen invoked the Martial God's Combat Insight stolen from Xiao Tian.
The blade changed.
Where before it was cold and efficient, now it carried the momentum of battlefields and relentless slaughter—instinct refined by endless war.
The brute sensed death.
"Blazing Armor!" He howled, igniting a layer of flame around his body.
Useless.
The blade cut through flame, axe, and chest in one seamless arc.
Blood sprayed.
The leader fell dead.
The remaining four froze in horror.
"Run!" someone screamed.
Lu Chen did not pursue—he hunted.
[Demon-Suppressing Step] carried him like a wraith through the forest.
One slash per man.
Four slashes. Four corpses.
Lu Chen sheathed his blade, breathing steady, as if nothing of note had occurred.
Wang Meng stared at him, expression complicated.
"That strike just now…" he hesitated. "It felt like military killing arts—but purer. As if it existed solely to end lives."
Lu Chen offered no explanation. "Loot the field."
Blazing Sect was wealthy—over fifty point crystals, fire-aspect pills, and cultivation manuals. After distribution, each gained ten points.
Squad total: 177 points. Rank: third.
Bai Yunsheng's team stood at 203—only twenty-six ahead.
"At this rate, we'll overtake them tomorrow," Lingque said.
"If we live that long," Hawkeye muttered. "I saw large movements east and west—at least thirty people forming an encirclement."
"Finally," Lu Chen smiled. "Bai Yunsheng himself?"
"One squad in Qingyun robes—likely him."
"And the rest?"
"Ghost Shadow Sect, plus other sects and rogues. All drawn by the bounty."
"Thirty people…" Iron Shield tightened his grip. "Can we handle it?"
"Not head-on," Wang Meng said calmly. "But this is Primeval Forest. Terrain favors guerrilla tactics. And they're not united—only bound by greed. Kill the leaders, and the rest will scatter."
"Then that's the plan." Lu Chen pointed northwest. "Stone Forest ahead—denser terrain. We withdraw, lay traps, and thin them out."
Agreed.
They retreated while setting crude traps—sharpened stakes, vine snares, branch-triggered launchers. Not lethal to experts, but enough to slow, disorient, and sow chaos.
Midway through the withdrawal, the pursuers arrived.
Ghost Shadow Sect struck first—five figures slipping through shadows like specters.
"Careful—they're in the shadows!" Lingque warned—
Too late.
A black blur lunged from the darkness, dagger aimed at her back.
Clang!
Iron Shield intercepted.
The attacker vanished again, followed by two more strikes from different angles.
They harassed relentlessly, refusing direct combat, draining stamina.
"This won't work," Wang Meng growled. "They'll bleed us dry."
Lu Chen closed his eyes.
[Ancient Ring Soul Perception] surged to full output.
Within his awareness, five shadowy flames moved clearly through the darkness.
"Three o'clock, two meters off the ground."
Bang.
Hawkeye fired. A muffled grunt—one shadow fell.
"Ten o'clock, behind the tree."
Wang Meng hurled his knife. It punched through bark, blood spraying from the other side.
Two down.
The remaining three charged.
Lu Chen met the first head-on. The man split into three afterimages.
Pointless.
One slash shattered all illusions. The real body—on the left—lost an arm at the shoulder. Lu Chen finished him instantly.
The last two tried to flee. Wang Meng and Iron Shield blocked them.
Moments later—silence.
But the delay proved costly.
The main force arrived.
Over thirty surrounded them in a forest clearing.
At the front stood Bai Yunsheng, robes white as snow, untouched by dust.
"Lin Xiao," he said calmly. "You're finished. Surrender your points and treasures, and I'll grant you a swift death."
Lu Chen laughed softly. "This is your best? Hiding while cannon fodder dies for you?"
A rogue cultivator stepped forward. "Daoist Bai is merciful! You reject mercy—kill them and split the reward!"
The crowd stirred—but no one charged.
Fear held them back.
Bai Yunsheng frowned. He had to act.
"If you insist on dying, I'll oblige." He drew his sword—clear as jade, cloud patterns flowing.
"This blade is Flowing Cloud, a low-grade spirit weapon. Dying by it is your honor."
He moved.
A white arc shot toward Lu Chen's throat.
Fast—faster than anyone before.
Lu Chen blocked.
Clang!
He slid back half a step, arm numb. Bai Yunsheng was stronger than expected—level 34, refined swordsmanship hiding layered variations.
"Interesting," Bai Yunsheng said. "But this ends now."
Three sword lights split from one—
Threefold Cloud Sword.
Lu Chen dodged with [Demon-Suppressing Step], barely evading. The sword chased relentlessly.
Their duel erupted, blades flashing, shockwaves rippling.
No one else could intervene.
After a hundred exchanges, Bai Yunsheng grew alarmed.
He couldn't win.
Lu Chen was growing stronger.
"I won't drag this out," Bai Yunsheng snarled.
He retreated, producing a golden talisman.
It burned, merging with his sword.
Energy surged.
"Golden Sword Talisman!" someone cried. "Triple power amplification!"
Bai Yunsheng's face paled.
"Die!"
A ten-meter golden sword fell, sealing all escape.
Everyone thought Lu Chen was finished.
Lu Chen smiled.
The Demon-Suppressing Stele roared within him. All stolen insights fused into one.
The blade rose.
Silver, gold, and bloodlight intertwined.
"Slash."
One plain strike.
The golden sword cracked.
Then shattered.
The blade continued.
Bai Yunsheng's defensive artifact shattered.
"No—!"
The slash passed.
A thin red line appeared on his chest.
Blood erupted.
Bai Yunsheng fell, eyes wide in disbelief.
Silence.
Then panic.
"Run!"
The encirclement collapsed.
Lu Chen stopped his team from pursuing.
He knelt beside the corpse.
[Destined One (False) detected—Plunder initiated.]
He smiled.
Come again.
He would kill them all.