Everything was dark, and Rong Yuxuan's consciousness slowly returned, in fragmented pieces, like shattered glass scattered across her mind. A strange, heavy scent began to assault her senses — a stench of rotting flesh, mixed with the metallic aroma of dried blood and the dense humidity of the forest. The air was thick with something beyond the ordinary: a dead and decaying presence.
A constant, throbbing pain hit her soon after, a cruel stab at the base of her skull, radiating throughout her body. But the relentless movement of a strange, solid, furry body that was not hers made her muscles protest — rigid and exhausted, as if they had been forced beyond their limits. She no longer had control over her limbs, only a monotonous sway, a back-and-forth movement that resembled the cruel rocking of a condemned soul on its way to the gallows.
Her eyes slowly opened, revealing a fog-distorted landscape. Countless trees rose like specters, their branches bent like twisted fingers, staring at her in eerie silence. But it was no ancient tree creature that carried her through the forest; it was something far more dangerous.
The thing before her was a sight out of the most twisted nightmares. It had the grotesque form of a corrupted deer, with long, muscular hind legs supporting a heavy, furry torso resembling that of a bear. But the head... The head was a blasphemy of nature itself. Slime-covered tentacles sprouted from its skull, writhing in slow spasms, and dark substance oozed, burning the leaves as it touched the ground.
Each breath of the creature was a guttural, wet sound, as if it were in constant pain and agony.
Yuxuan had vast knowledge of some of these creatures from Tianlong, thanks to the books her older brother, Rong Jun, had forced her to read when she was younger. Many of these abominations were indescribable atrocities.
Demon Bear-Deer. A name whispered in tales to scare children and warn warriors. Creatures from the Dark Lands, mind and heart devourers, leaving behind only empty bodies, soulless puppets that wandered aimlessly until they turned to dust.
Upon realizing the true nature of the creature before her, Rong Yuxuan's fists instinctively clenched in a gesture of anger and agony — or at least, they tried.
The tentacles of the Demon Bear-Deer were like ropes — no, like vines. Thick, alive, pulsing with ancient energy that slowly drained the strength of anyone who dared resist. Bound to the wrists and ankles of the young lady of the Rongyu clan, these vines wrapped around her torso, tightening with each breath, like snakes waiting for the last exhale.
Exhaustion weighed down on her shoulders like an iron cloak, and the memories she had lost began to return in disconnected flashes. She had been on a hunt some hours ago. Yuxuan had joined a group of cultivators from the Gu Clan of Wuqing to track down a demonic cultivator who had caused bloody deaths in nearby villages. But all she remembered was the strange rustling in the leaves, the biting cold in the air. Then, the pain... and the emptiness.
Yuxuan's clothes were dirty with mud and blood. The light cloak, dyed in shades of moss green and gold, was torn in several places. Her bare feet scraped against the creature's rough skin, and the touch felt increasingly wet and sticky, making Rong Yuxuan's skin crawl with disgust and discomfort.
She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to feel and assess. There was something more. The energy within her was still there, weakened, yes, but alive. A fragile thread of hope. If only she could find an opening, a mistake, a distraction.
The creature continued its relentless pace, unhurried, as if savoring the certainty of its prey. But patience was a weapon as much as a sharp blade.
And she still had both.
Rong Yuxuan realized she still had a dagger hidden in her clothes, but it would take considerable effort to summon it with her limited internal energy. Then, she snapped her fingers lightly and felt a bit of her Qi flow through her veins like a waking serpent, sliding through every muscle and fiber of her body.
A familiar warmth began to pulse from within, like a primal force that never abandoned her, even in the darkest moments. Her fingers, still weak, moved slowly until they met again in a quiet snap — a sound insignificant in the vast silence of the profaned forest. Small traces of golden energy danced around her hands, almost invisible to the eyes, but felt as a living whisper on her skin.
The dagger was indeed there. Rong Yuxuan felt its hidden weight beneath the torn folds of her tunic, cold against her warm flesh. Finally, she felt a sense of relief. Not everything was lost. Summoning it would require precision, strength, patience, and, above all, complete silence.
Slowly, like a leaf carried by the wind, the blade slid between her garments, guided by the cultivator's steely will. The touch of the metal brought a familiar, almost comforting feeling. With careful movement, Rong Yuxuan positioned the dagger against the pulsing vines that held her, pressing gently, testing the resistance of the living bindings.
The blade cut through rotten, pliable flesh, but not without resistance. A dark, viscous liquid gushed from the vines, burning Yuxuan's skin on contact, causing a throbbing, searing pain. She bit her tongue to suppress the grunt that almost escaped her lips, focusing on the task. With a single strike, she poured all her strength and internal energy into the tentacles that entangled her, feeling them break under her determination.
The creature howled, a guttural sound that reverberated through the forest like distant thunder. Rong Yuxuan fell heavily to the ground, her knees hitting the cold earth, as the beast thrashed in blind fury, whipping the air with the mutilated tentacles.
There was no time to hesitate.
She rose, her muscles protesting, but her mind was already clear, cold as the blade in her hands. The creature still roared, its dark eyes searching for her with renewed hunger, but now there was distance between them.
Her lips curled into a low growl. Yuxuan hissed between her teeth, mixing irritation and relief:
"Go to hell, filthy creature!"
She lifted her gaze to the sky, obscured by the twisted tree canopies, and her brown eyes gleamed with a spark of triumph. Rong Yuxuan took a deep breath, smelling the woodsy scent of the forest mingled with the stench of the creature, and let out a fractured sigh.
"May the heavens guard me from this madness..." she murmured softly.
The wind blew through the dry leaves, carrying her lost murmur through the dark forest. Rong Yuxuan straightened, preparing to escape as quickly as possible from this place. As soon as she stood upright, the dampness of the mud clung to her torn clothes.
Her muscles protested the movement, and she clenched her jaw, trying to contain the throbbing pain that pulsed through every fiber of her body. The instant her foot hit the ground, a dry twig snapped under her weight, producing a loud crack that echoed through the silent forest.
She froze, cursing under her breath, but it was too late. The grotesque creature before her raised its horrendous, deformed head, with trembling and erratic movements, as if waiting for a sign to attack.
The eyes of the Demon Bear-Deer — or rather, what should have been a pair of eyes — were a black, empty pit, an endless abyss that sent a chill down her spine. Rong Yuxuan immediately assumed a fighting stance, gripping the dagger firmly in her left hand. The blade, dirty with earth, was still sharp enough to cause havoc. If she had to fight, then fight she would. Her energy was limited, nearly non-existent, so all that remained was her skill in hand-to-hand combat. There was no room for mistakes.
The creature stared at Rong Yuxuan with a bizarre, almost unsettling gaze. And, in a slow and nauseating movement, it began to twist its head to the side. The sound of cracking bones echoed through the environment until the creature's face completed a full rotation. Then, without warning, it shot toward her in an uncontrolled sprint, crushing branches and leaves under its monstrous weight.
Rong Yuxuan reacted at the last second. She leaped backward, her feet sliding in the mud, and used the trunk of a tree to propel herself over the creature. Her body spun in the air, and she landed with feline precision behind the monster, once again assuming a defensive posture.
She was known in her clan for her unyielding rigidity and her ability to make quick decisions. If something represented a threat to her safety, she would show no mercy to whoever stood in her way. Gathering her breath in her lungs, Rong Yuxuan turned her attention back to the creature. She stared directly at it, trying to ignore the nausea that was growing in her stomach. The deep, dark eyes — those empty, lifeless holes — seemed to devour her.
A deafening roar escaped the monster's throat, a sound so intense that it reverberated throughout the clearing, nearly bursting Rong Yuxuan's eardrums. She staggered for a moment, feeling the infernal buzzing invade her mind. Without her internal energy, she was vulnerable to sounds like that, and desperation threatened to infiltrate her mind.
The monster lunged again, its misshapen tentacles whipping through the air, trying to grab her and drag her into its large, grotesque mouth. Yuxuan reacted instinctively. She slid across the muddy ground, dodging the repulsive appendages with precise movements. Her dagger gleamed in her hand, slicing through each tentacle that came near, one by one. Each strike was accompanied by a viscous, repulsive sound, and green blood gushed like a fetid fountain.
With one final, precise motion, Rong Yuxuan drove the blade deep into the creature's throat. Thick, viscous blood erupted in a disgusting torrent, splattering across her arms and burning her skin like liquid fire. She let out a scream of pain, her muscles convulsing under the searing heat, but she didn't release the dagger.
The beast thrashed violently, emitting a gurgling, agonizing sound, before finally toppling over, trembling one last time before surrendering to death. Rong Yuxuan gasped for air, feeling her chest rise and fall with effort, as she watched the grotesque corpse sink into the mud. She looked at her burned arms, where the creature's blood still smoked, slowly eating away at the layers of fabric and skin. The pain was intense, but bearable. After all, it wasn't the first time she had faced something like this.
"Damn..." she muttered through clenched teeth, wiping the blade on her tattered robe before she sheathed it.
Rong Yuxuan began walking through the forest, each step feeling like it was tearing away a piece of her strength. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a thick veil, and the fever burned beneath her skin, clouding her thoughts. She could feel the weight of her own body, too heavy, too slow. The scars on her flesh were old companions, but the open wounds — those were new, deep, exuding the sour scent of burnt flesh and dried blood.
She hadn't realized the severity of her condition until a sharp pain forced her to face it. Something had happened before her battle with the Bear-Deer Demon; she was certain of that, but her mind was a field of ruins, where memories crumbled before she could grasp them. Perhaps it had been a bloody battle against the demonic cultivator. Either way, there wasn't much left of her, just a broken woman wandering down a path that seemed endless.
Death hovered like a lurking beast, silent and patient. She knew it was drawing near — she could feel it in the tremors running through her limbs, the taste of rust clinging to her tongue, and the way her vision blurred before snapping back into sharp focus. Rong Yuxuan no longer fought to live, only to keep moving, to let her legs carry her one step and then another. Still, death felt distant, a persistent shadow that followed her but hadn't yet dared to touch her.
Rong Yuxuan crossed the stream with heavy steps, and every small movement sent waves of excruciating pain through her battered body. The cold water bit into her skin like small blades of ice, but it also offered a fleeting relief to her parched throat.
She knelt by the edge, hastily drinking a few drops, as if the water could wash away the fever and exhaustion consuming her from the inside out. But the water wasn't magic, and she knew that. Even so, in that fleeting moment, she allowed herself to believe that maybe she could go on, that perhaps there was a path beyond this torment.
It was then that she heard a familiar voice.
Across the stream, a towering silhouette rose against the horizon. A man called to her, and his voice cut through the silence like distant thunder. Yuxuan felt something tighten in her chest — not fear, nor hope, but a strange mixture of both. The sight of that person, his dark eyes fixed on her, seemed too real, almost as if fate had sent him to rescue her from the brink of oblivion.
Rong Yuxuan tried to rise, but her muscles protested, and she braced herself against the cold stones of the stream, feeling every drop of energy drain from her like water slipping through her fingers. With all her effort, she dragged herself out of the stream, battling against her own body.
The cold seeped into her bones, but she couldn't stop. Not now. With each meter, the presence of that man felt closer, more tangible, until finally, her fingers brushed his hands. The man leaned forward, pulling her gently toward him with a strength that spoke of unspoken words, as if telling her: "It's not over yet."
Rong Yuxuan closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of his hands against hers. She didn't know whether it was a blessing or an illusion created by her weakened mind, but it didn't matter. If there was still a chance to escape, even if it was just a sliver, she would grab it with everything she had left.
She let herself collapse onto the hard ground, breath heavy, muscles screaming for rest. Every fiber of her being throbbed with pain, and she knew she was on the brink of her limit. Rong Yuxuan could barely keep her eyes open. Her vision wavered between shadows and indistinct flashes of light. The chi that flowed through her body was disordered, like a river that had broken its banks, and each breath seemed to pull an invisible thread from her soul, about to snap.
But the warmth that spilled from her back — steady, constant — kept her anchored in the present. It was a pure warmth, different from the fever that had burned through her veins moments before. Her hazy gaze lifted with difficulty to meet the face of the man before her, and then, even amidst the fog of pain, reality struck her with clarity.
Gu Qingfeng.
His courtesy name was Chang Feng Zenzhe, a legendary cultivator of the Gu Clan of Wuqing, renowned for his strict virtues and impeccable skills in archery and horsemanship. The Palace of Righteousness, the clan's headquarters, was revered as the home of the most disciplined disciples in the entire cultivation world.
However, among the cultivators of the clan itself, Chang Feng Zenzhe was seen as an exception — the wandering blade of Wuqing or the Thorn of Heaven, one who rarely stayed within the sacred confines of the Palace. He preferred the wind in his hair to the rigidity of scrolls, hunting yaoguai to the endless repetition of ancestral teachings.
Gu Qingfeng positioned Rong Yuxuan in a lotus posture and then sat behind her with flawless elegance. His hands gently rested on her back, transferring energy to stabilize her chi. His touch wasn't just warm — it was an anchor.
Rong Yuxuan swallowed hard, struggling to speak. Her voice came out hoarse and barely audible.
"Chang... Feng Zenzhe..."
He didn't move immediately, but there was something inscrutable in his eyes. Then, he raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a polished indifference.
"Call me Gu Qingfeng. That title belongs to the monks and old men of the Gu Clan of Wuqing, who have plenty of time to worry about formalities", he said, focusing on stabilizing Yuxuan.
She breathed deeply. The chi flowed through her like a soft breeze, dissipating the suffocating weight of pain, but exhaustion was so great that her body still felt like stone.
"What happened to you?", he asked, bluntly.
There was something about the way he spoke that drew attention — no gentleness, but also no rudeness. It was direct, as if he had discarded all the unnecessary layers of conversation to get to the heart of the matter.
Rong Yuxuan hesitated. Her mind was a whirlwind of fragmented images, scattered pieces of a broken mirror.
"I... don't remember."
She tried to sift through her memory, but all she found was a throbbing pain in response. The confession came out lower than she intended, almost a whisper.
Gu Qingfeng, however, didn't show surprise. If there was one thing he understood well, it was forgetfulness — that limbo between life and death, where time dissolved into mist. But when she looked up to meet his gaze, a flash of something dark crossed his features.
"Were you attacked?", he asked, furrowing his brow.
Yuxuan closed her eyes for a moment, trying to reorder the scattered fragments of her memory. Then, the image of the beast surfaced in her mind like a blade driven into her chest.
"Yes. A Bear-Deer Demon."
Gu Qingfeng's hand on her back went still. Just for an instant — a brief hesitation, almost imperceptible, but enough for her to notice.
"A Bear-Deer Demon?", his voice now carried a different tone: genuine interest, perhaps even a hint of disbelief.
Rong Yuxuan nodded.
"It almost killed me. If it weren't for you…"
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to. They both knew that if Gu Qingfeng hadn't appeared at that precise moment, Rong Yuxuan would have been just another name lost in the shadows. He tilted his head slightly, studying her with keen eyes, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, as if weighing each word before uttering it.
"Then tell me… If this creature really attacked you... why the hell do I see no trace of it around?", he questioned.
The question hung in the air like a thread about to snap. And in that moment, Rong Yuxuan felt a chill run down her spine. She kept her eyes fixed on Gu Qingfeng, feeling the weight of her answer pressing on the air between them. The pain still pulsed in every fiber of her body, but her voice was firm, her determination evident in each word that left her lips.
"I... I killed the Bear-Deer Demon. With my own hands", her words sounded more like a statement than an explanation, and she didn't hesitate to complete it, as if simply confessing would give her some sort of release.
The silence that followed seemed like a deep abyss. Gu Qingfeng didn't move a muscle, but his eyes, which had become even more penetrating, seemed to evaluate every word flowing from the lips of that beautiful woman.
"The Bear-Deer Demon...", he repeated the name as if testing the taste of the like the words. His expression was now unperturbed, but there was a coldness in his eyes that, for a moment, made her question whether he truly understood the magnitude of what she had said.
The Bear-Deer Demon is one of the worst creatures described in the book "The Thirteen Creatures." An ancient and immense being, it belongs to the most feared category of demonic creatures in Tianlong. It is described as a monster capable of consuming the vital essence of any living being, turning the area around it into a swamp of destruction.
"The Thirteen Creatures" has been passed down through generations. Its pages, though worn and stained by time, contained the legends that shaped the cultivators' understanding of the world of shadows and demons. Each creature described within not only represented a physical threat, but also a test of mental and spiritual resilience for those who dared to confront them.
And the Bear-Deer Demon, as described by the words of those ancient masters, was the most terrifying of them all. It didn't just destroy the bodies of its victims, but corroded their very spirits, leaving them ready for demonic domination.
Yuxuan looked at her own hand, still marked by the scars of the battle. "Even wounded, I had to face it. If I hadn't, nothing of me would remain in this world." Gu Qingfeng leaned slightly forward, and his eyes reflected a dark understanding of what she had just described. His tone, when he finally spoke, sounded grave and emotionless, yet still carried an undeniable weight.
"The Bear-Deer Demon… It's not just one of the worst creatures, Rong Yuxuan. It is the cruelest and most vile. Its existence is a curse, a primordial evil that, when awakened, threatens to swallow everything it touches." His voice was tinged with a bitterness she hadn't expected. He seemed to know the horrors of that beast up close, far more than she wished to know.
Yuxuan closed her eyes, recalling the moment when the demon had emerged from the mist. The Bear-Deer Demon, an imposing creature with large antlers that gleamed as if they were made from the very darkness of the abyss. It had the strength of an entire army, and the gaze of its fangs could consume a man's soul in seconds. But Yuxuan, in that moment of extreme vulnerability, did not hesitate.
Gu Qingfeng watched her silently, his gaze hardened by something deeper than she could understand. He took a deep breath, as if absorbing the magnitude of what she had said, and then, with a slight nod, he stood up.
"I will investigate this. No matter what lies behind it, Rong Yuxuan, you are not alone anymore," he said softly. "I will take you back to the village so you can rest, and then we will continue the search for the demonic cultivator. Everyone is concerned."
Yuxuan's eyes narrowed as she heard what he said, and for a moment, the shadow of doubt quickly passed through her mind. But before she could articulate a response, Gu Qingfeng lifted her in his arms, raising her from the ground, still maintaining his unshaken demeanor.
He looked at her one last time before turning toward the horizon, where the darkness began to yield to the first glimpse of light. And, for some reason, Rong Yuxuan felt a new weight settle in her chest, as if the future had begun to intertwine with her destiny in an unexpected and irrevocable way.
To be continued...