Chapter Four: The Deal

Night blanketed the Southern Wilderness.

The sky was ablaze with stars, their brilliance illuminating the farthest reaches of the heavens. Everywhere the eye could see, fist-sized stars shimmered, and their rainbow-hued light coalesced into visible mist, gently descending from the heights, nourishing all that dwelled below.

Atop Golden Crow Ridge, on the massive azure mulberry trees, hundreds of enormous fire ravens lined the cliff edge, their beaks agape as they silently absorbed the energy in the starlight. The ridge was enveloped in a dense scarlet radiance, and above more than a dozen mulberry giants, the fiery glow formed a vast vortex, pouring endless star force into the trees.

Ji Hao sat atop the roof of his home, gazing quietly at this wondrous night sky. His fingers rested on his abdomen, shifting through intricate seals, guiding the star power into his body. His slender form emitted a faint glow, as if fused with the starlight that filled the heavens.

The “Nine Words True Formula Pill Scripture,” originating from the secret arts of the Nine Words True Formula, could unlock the deepest potential within the human body, connect with the ultimate mysteries of the cosmos, and lead to the sublime state where heaven and man are one. From birth, Ji Hao had cultivated the pill scripture anew, enduring nearly ten years of arduous practice, and now had reached a modest success.

Within his brow, in the Violet Palace, the vast and boundless space of his soul, a mist-like Violet Palace Core slowly revolved.

“Hao, come in and sleep! Staring at the sky every night—are you hoping to soar up there?” Ji Xia’s warm voice sounded in the courtyard. “If you truly wish to fly, it’s not impossible. When you become a Witch King, you’ll be able to traverse the skies and earth!”

At this, Ji Xia burst into hearty laughter.

Everyone knew that the Fire Raven Tribe hadn’t produced a Witch King-level powerhouse for thousands of years. Once equal with the Bifang and Vermilion Bird Tribes, the Fire Raven Tribe, lacking a Witch King to preside, had fallen to become a subordinate clan under the Bifang Tribe.

Even Ji Xia, though recognizing Ji Hao’s gifted nature, did not believe he had much hope of reaching the lofty heights of a Witch King. Ji Hao’s talent was excellent, but he was still merely a third-level witchman, not yet even in the Minor Witch realm. Beyond that lay the arduous Great Witch realm, and only after breaking through that would he attain the powers of a Witch King—able to fly, vanish, and stir the rivers and seas.

“Ohhh…” he replied lazily, withdrawing the seals of the pill scripture, and lightly descended from the rooftop.

A wild bear with coppery skin and shaggy crimson fur, over fifteen meters long, sprawled lazily at the wooden door. Ji Hao landed directly on its soft belly. The bear, comfortably snoring, opened one eye and gently patted Ji Hao with its enormous paw.

Ji Hao pulled out a fruit, pried open the bear’s mouth, and stuffed it in. The bear, lost in its slumber, swallowed the fruit whole, not bothering to chew.

“Fatty, someday you’ll be too heavy to walk, and then you won’t be able to serve as Father’s mount,” Ji Hao teased, kicking the bear’s head. The bear simply covered its face with both paws, resigned to whatever Ji Hao might do, intent only on sleeping soundly.

Shaking his head, Ji Hao entered the wooden house.

In the corner, Qing Fu sat, dressed in a plain linen gown, gripping a jade pestle as she carefully ground a vivid green paste in her jade mortar. Wisps of blue smoke curled down from her fingers, merging into the paste.

Tiny herbal remnants dissolved in the mist, and the paste grew clearer and purer, becoming thick and potent. Under Qing Fu’s persistent grinding, it slowly transformed into a balm as lustrous as jade.

“Mother!” Ji Hao sat before Qing Fu, quietly watching his mother.

Qing Fu was not of the Fire Raven Tribe; she hailed from the Qingyi Tribe, a small clan from the east allied beneath the Fire Raven Tribe. The women of her tribe were born priestesses, especially skilled in identifying and concocting all manner of medicines.

Fire Raven women, like the men, were tall and robust, a fierce breed who could wield spears and axes to battle the wild beasts of the mountains. By contrast, Qingyi women were graceful and slender, their skin like snow, their faces beautiful as paintings.

Ji Hao’s mother, Qing Fu, was the most gifted priestess among the Qingyi, renowned as the greatest beauty of her generation.

Yet her once exquisite face now showed signs of weariness. She was barely thirty, yet her temples had streaks of white, and her perfectly shaped lips were devoid of color. Like Ji Xia, who was gaunt and thin, Qing Fu too was wizened and frail.

Grinding the medicine with care, Qing Fu looked up and smiled, her laughter soft and hissing, “Hao, you made quite a show today, didn’t you? You defeated Ji Shu’s son?”

Ji Hao scratched his head and grinned, “I just took a bit of an advantage. He wasn’t really hurt. In a fair fight, I can’t best him—but if we enter the forest, I could kill him ten thousand times.”

As he spoke, a chilling aura flashed over Ji Hao.

Qing Fu’s eyes softened as she looked at him, lowering her voice, “Good, that reassures me. Don’t be like your father, always thinking of the tribe’s greater good, always trying to avoid trouble… This is the Southern Wilderness. If you’re not ruthless, how can you survive?”

A strange fragrance drifted forth; the balm was ready. Qing Fu rolled it into twelve thumb-sized green pills, carefully placing them in a jade vial.

“Hao, remember the stories I told you when you were little. Our Qingyi Tribe was once from far in the east, a powerful clan. But because an old matriarch was soft-hearted and deceived, the entire tribe was nearly exterminated, and only barely escaped to the Southern Wilderness.” Qing Fu’s phoenix eyes flashed coldly. “When the ancestral ceremony comes in half a month, if your father survives, all is well. If he dies…”

Ji Hao bowed his head, listening quietly to her instructions. “If your father is killed by Ji Shu, I will follow him in death. You must leave the tribe, become stronger, and one day avenge us by killing Ji Shu’s whole family.”

Ji Xia entered, carrying a large slab of beast meat, and glanced at Qing Fu with a smile. “Why say such things to Hao? At the ancestral ceremony, it’s not certain I’ll lose to Ji Shu. To become the chief warrior of our tribe—ha, it’s not so easy.”

Ji Hao said nothing more, embracing Qing Fu before climbing the stairs to his own room.

Once every ten years, the ancestral ceremony brought all the chiefs of the Fire Raven Tribe to Golden Crow Ridge, the sacred place, to honor their ancestors—a rare opportunity for the tribe’s power to shift hands.

A decade ago, at the height of his power, Ji Xia had been unmatched by Ji Shu.

But now, with his witch acupoints destroyed, Ji Xia’s strength had waned, and as Ji Shu’s faction claimed, he might have fallen from the Great Witch realm to the Minor Witch realm. Faced with Ji Shu’s aggression, could Ji Xia hold out? Could Qing Fu endure? Without their protection, how long could he survive?

“This place is no peaceful land… it devours the weak.” Over the years, Ji Hao had seen the tragic fate of children from tribes destroyed by enemies. He himself lacked the strength to resist the dangers lurking outside.

Power—he needed to gain greater strength, and quickly.

Even if he could not aid Ji Xia much, he had to do all he could to grow stronger, to prepare for any calamity that might come.

He closed the door and opened the tightly shut window, letting the starlight flood his room. Ji Hao lay on a broad, heavy lion’s pelt, closing his eyes. His soul, a hundred times stronger than his peers, surged toward the Niwan Palace, entering his spiritual realm.

“Hey, old fellow, I’m here. I accept your deal—your so-called ‘Heaven-Mending Formula’ for my Nine Words True Formula Pill Scripture. And don’t forget those benefits you promised me.”

At Ji Hao’s call, a mass of white mist emerged in the vast soul space, forming a white jade disc before him.

A towering figure sat cross-legged atop the disc, gazing down at Ji Hao from above.

“Little one, you’ll never lose, nor regret, making a deal with me.”

***

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