The wind howled through the vast, frozen plains, carrying with it the scent of blood and the fading echoes of battle. Hui Jian moved swiftly, his footsteps barely audible in the snow as he put more distance between himself and the ruins of the camp he had left behind. The chaos of the beastmen assault was now far in the distance, and with every step, the weight of the camp's destruction fell further behind him.
He didn't look back. There was no need.
The frozen expanse of the Northern Plains stretched endlessly before him. Jagged mountains rose in the distance like the teeth of some ancient beast, and the icy wind cut through him, biting at his skin despite the thick furs he wore. His mind, sharp and focused, remained undisturbed by the bitter cold. He knew the true enemy wasn't the weather. It wasn't even the beastmen who roamed these desolate lands. It was the very ground beneath his feet—the unrelenting expanse of wilderness that had claimed countless lives before him.
Hui Jian's pace was steady, calculated. He wasn't running from the camp, not exactly. His exit had been planned, every move a part of the larger strategy. Now, the next phase had begun. Survival in the wilderness wasn't just about keeping ahead of danger; it was about thinking three, even four steps ahead. The heavenly wall—the near-mythical barrier between the Northern Plains and the Central Continent—loomed large in his thoughts.
But first, there was the matter of making it through these treacherous lands.
As he moved through the snow, the remnants of other camps and settlements caught his eye. The Northern Plains were unforgiving. He passed charred ruins and collapsed tents, the signs of camps that had not fared so well against the beastmen raids. Bodies lay frozen in grotesque poses, their weapons still clutched in lifeless hands, their expressions frozen in a last, silent scream. Hui Jian barely spared them a glance. His path was clear, his objective singular.
The cold gnawed at him, relentless and biting, but Hui Jian's mind remained steady. He had prepared for this. His stockpile of supplies—food, primeval stones, and the few precious Gu he had acquired—was enough to sustain him for a short while. But the journey ahead was long, and he knew he couldn't rely on just his current resources.
The Beast Strength Gu pulsed faintly in his aperture, a quiet reminder of the power it granted him. It had been an invaluable tool, providing him with the strength he needed when necessary. But using it now, in these conditions, would only drain him faster. He needed to conserve his primeval essence for the challenges ahead.
The howling wind brought with it another sound—faint, but distinct. A low growl, the heavy footfalls of something large moving through the snow. Beastmen. Hui Jian's eyes narrowed as he quickly moved to the shelter of a nearby outcropping of rocks, his form disappearing into the shadows. His breath came slow and steady, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon.
In the distance, he saw them—a small pack of beastmen, hulking brutes with fur-covered bodies, scavenging through the remains of another destroyed camp. They moved with a predatory grace, their movements methodical as they picked through the bodies and ruins, searching for anything of value.
Hui Jian crouched low, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, though he knew better than to engage. There were four of them, and though they seemed distracted, any fight with them would be too costly. The cold made every movement more taxing, and he had no intention of wasting energy on a skirmish that could be avoided.
He waited, patient as the beastmen ransacked the camp. After what felt like an eternity, they moved on, their guttural growls fading into the distance. Only then did Hui Jian emerge from his hiding spot, his breath visible in the freezing air. He moved carefully, keeping his distance from the camp as he resumed his journey.
The wilderness was vast, and he knew the dangers extended far beyond the beastmen. Other survivors—those who had lost their camps or their families—roamed these lands as well. Desperation made them dangerous, perhaps more so than any beastman. But Hui Jian was no stranger to such dangers. He had faced far worse in the chaos of the camp and had emerged unscathed.
As the day wore on, the cold began to seep deeper into his bones. His mind, however, remained sharp. The heavenly wall was his destination, the boundary that separated the Northern Plains from the Central Continent. Crossing it was no simple feat. Gu Masters, especially those with powerful Dao Marks, were often repelled by the wall's defensive barriers. Hui Jian, still only a Rank 2 Gu Master, had no such burdens—yet.
But even for someone of his rank, the journey would be perilous.
He reached a small, sheltered cave by nightfall. It wasn't much, but it would shield him from the worst of the wind and allow him to rest. Inside, he took stock of his supplies. The food he had looted from the camp would last him a few more days, and the primeval stones he carried would give him enough essence to power his Gu for several uses. But the most valuable thing in his possession for now was his Mind Flower gu. Which he was contemplating on if he should try to refine it or not.
Sitting in the darkness of the cave, Hui Jian's mind drifted to the heavenly wall. He had heard stories of Gu Masters who had crossed it, though few ever spoke of the journey itself. The wall was an enigma—almost alive in the way it repelled stronger Gu Immortals while allowing others to slip through its cracks. If he could find the right method, he could bypass the wall without drawing attention.
But that would require resources. And time.
Hui Jian's thoughts were interrupted by a distant sound—a low murmur, faint but unmistakable. He froze, listening intently. Voices. Not beastmen this time, but human voices. His eyes narrowed as he stood and moved to the entrance of the cave, peering into the darkness. In the distance, a flicker of light—the telltale sign of a caravan, moving through the wilderness.
A plan began to form in his mind. A caravan heading toward the heavenly wall might provide the cover he needed. More than that, they might carry something of value—resources, or perhaps a Gu that could aid in his journey.
Hui Jian allowed himself a small smile. Opportunity, it seemed, had come knocking.
He would approach the caravan cautiously, ingratiating himself if necessary. And if they proved to be careless, or foolish enough, perhaps he would take more than just their trust.
For now, though, he would wait. The night was long, and patience had always been his greatest weapon.