Chapter Fifty-Nine: Seeking Aid

Outside Cold Creek Valley, members of the Bloodfang Band appeared once more.

It wasn’t only Ji Xia who burned with fury; even Ji Zhu was incensed, personally leading his contract giant raven as they scoured the surrounding mountains and forests. Yet, not a trace of the Bloodfang Band could be found. After several days of fruitless searching, Ji Zhu could only boast to Ji Hao with satisfaction—those Bloodfang Band scoundrels had fled in terror before their family's reputation.

Ji Hao, however, did not take matters so lightly. Though he could sense a conspiracy at play, he found no evidence to expose the Bloodfang Band’s schemes, and could only bury his suspicions deep within his heart.

For the next fortnight, Cold Creek Valley was unusually tranquil, and nothing else occurred.

It was as if Ji Hao had returned to Golden Crow Ridge, living and cultivating according to a fixed routine day after day. At dawn, before the sun had risen, he sat atop the mountain to refine his qi, tempering his Violet Palace Primordial Pill and awaiting the first ray of pure yang violet energy at sunrise.

After morning cultivation, he would accompany Qing Ying, leading hundreds of tribe warriors to hunt in the forests, providing meat for Cold Creek Valley. At noon, after feasting on large quantities of fierce beast flesh, he would spend the afternoon forging his strength and tempering his physique within the valley. In just half a month, the unstable blood essence following his breakthrough to the Little Shaman realm had thoroughly stabilized. Each day, vast amounts of refined blood and fire raven bloodline fused within him, strengthening the power of the Golden Crow, and the might of his three innate divine abilities steadily grew as well.

At night, Ji Hao either learned the art of shaman medicine refinement from Qing Fu or sparred under the guidance of Ji Zhu and Ji Xia.

Ji Zhu and Ji Xia were paragons of warriorhood among the Southern Wild tribes. They had no fixed combat moves; every strike was dictated by instinct, emulating the ferocious birds and beasts of the wilderness. Their principle was to kill the enemy with the greatest speed, the shortest attack path, and utmost efficiency.

Under the near-harsh training of Ji Zhu and Ji Xia, the sophisticated and elaborate combat techniques Ji Hao had mastered in his previous life gradually shed their unnecessary flourishes, becoming more seasoned, ruthless, and decisive by the day. The battle skills of his past life and the killing instincts of this one, molded together by his powerful soul, slowly transformed into a unique and terrifying ‘battle art’ that belonged to Ji Hao alone. In just half a month of focused cultivation, Ji Hao’s combat prowess and destructive power had increased more than tenfold, even though his cultivation itself had not advanced significantly.

One evening, as dusk fell—

Ji Hao stood atop the defensive wall of Cold Creek Valley, teasing a twin-headed snake with a slender branch. The snake was entirely silver, marked with black ring-shaped patterns.

The venomous serpent, over ten feet long, moved swiftly and unpredictably, its twisting body difficult to guard against. Yet Ji Hao’s gaze was hollow and unwavering, as his thumb-thick, eight-foot-long branch tapped and prodded the snake with practiced ease. No matter how frenziedly it lunged, it could never approach Ji Hao, always kept more than ten feet away, fluttering helplessly.

A crowd of warriors from Fire Raven Tribe and Green Yi Tribe gathered around Ji Hao, clicking their tongues in admiration.

“No wonder he’s the son of Big Brother Ji Xia and Sister Qing Fu. Such a young shaman—does Bi Fang Tribe have any youngster so formidable?”

“Ah, compared to Hao, I’m embarrassed to show my face. I’m ten years older than him, and I’m still stuck at the twelfth layer of Shaman realm!”

“That’s right! This twin-headed black-ringed viper—I could split it with one blow, but I wouldn’t dare, nor could I, toy with such a venomous creature like this!”

As their praise echoed, a warrior from Green Yi Tribe, stationed atop a tall arrow tower some fifty feet away, suddenly let out a shrill cry. He leaned half his body out from the tower and pointed forcefully toward the depths of the dense woods ahead.

“Hey, there’s something moving over there! I saw sunlight glinting on human blood—it’s fresh, someone’s wounded!”

The sound of frantic wings followed as a flock of tree sparrows scattered from the forest several miles away, soaring into the sky. The warriors atop the wall shouted loudly; sparrows startled for no reason meant someone was darting through the jungle in a life-or-death struggle.

Ji Hao drew a deep breath, thrust his branch forward, and with two crisp strikes, smashed both heads of the twin-headed serpent. Kicking its twitching body off the wall, Ji Hao leapt more than fifty feet high, grabbed a protruding brace on the arrow tower, and flipped himself inside.

“Yo~ yo~!” The Fire Raven Tribe warriors atop the wall let out long, resonant cries.

In the jungles of the Southern Wilds, such monotonous, extended calls signaled that this was a claimed territory—enemies should not trespass. The special rhythm of the call also guided allies and tribesfolk, so they could follow the sound and rush to their aid.

The sound of snapping branches echoed ceaselessly. After a dozen or so breaths, with a sudden gust, a blood-soaked figure stumbled out of the dense woods, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he staggered toward the entrance of Cold Creek Valley.

He had barely sprinted fifty feet, still more than a mile from the valley, when Ji Hao’s eyes flashed with fire—the Golden Crow Divine Eyes activated, revealing the man’s appearance. His chest was bare and covered in thick hair, upon which a burning leopard totem had been traced with blood-red dye.

Fire Leopard Tribe—an intermediate tribe sheltered under Fire Raven Tribe, their territory lying to the northmost edge of Fire Raven’s land. Their warriors were brave and skilled, and the bond between the tribes was exceptionally close. For years, in conflicts between Fire Raven and Blackwater Serpent Tribe, Fire Leopard warriors often served as the vanguard, charging ahead.

“It’s a brother from Fire Leopard Tribe!” Ji Hao leaned half his body out from the arrow tower, shouting down to the tribesmen on the wall, “Send some men to rescue him!”

Long, echoing shouts rang out, and a dozen Fire Raven warriors mounted their battle beasts, leaping straight from the wall and racing toward the bloodied Fire Leopard warrior.

“Heh heh!”

From the dense woods behind the Fire Leopard warrior came sinister, shrill laughter. With two sharp sounds, arrows shot from the woods, reaching the warrior’s back in a blink.

“In front of Qing Ying, you dare use arrows? I am Qing Ying, the most handsome archer of Green Yi Tribe, and the youngest Grand Shaman in our history!” Qing Ying’s boastful voice rang out from afar. With a piercing whistle, a green arrow flew forth, overtaking the previous arrows to reach the Fire Leopard warrior’s back.

The green arrow traced an arc, deftly knocking both arrows to the ground.

The Fire Leopard warrior staggered and fell headlong, his skull striking the earth and raising a cloud of dust.

He lifted his head, his face wild with beard and blood, and screamed hoarsely, “Save my tribe! Those Blood Crocodile and Ghost Frog bastards—they’ve joined forces to attack us! Heaven help us, a few days ago, all our young warriors were drawn away to Golden Crow Ridge!”

The Fire Raven warriors heard his cries and erupted into furious roars.

***

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