The morning sun rose over the jagged peaks of the Desolate Mountains, painting the rocky terrain in hues of orange and gold. Lin Fan stood at the edge of his small alcove, gazing out at the endless expanse of cliffs and valleys before him. His body was aching from the battle with the spirit tiger, but his spirit burned with determination.
The faint ember of cultivation within him had grown stronger overnight, thanks to the energy he had absorbed from the Golden Spirit Grass. Though his strength was still far from that of a true cultivator, Lin Fan could feel the difference. His senses were sharper, his movements lighter, and his connection to the world around him deeper.
"This is only the beginning," Lin Fan muttered to himself, clenching his fists.
With the power of the Wheel of Destiny and the treasures of the Desolate Mountains, he had a chance to grow—to survive, to rise, and to take back everything that had been stolen from him. But for now, survival was his priority.
As Lin Fan descended deeper into the mountains, the terrain grew more treacherous. Sheer cliffs loomed on either side, and narrow paths wound precariously along the edges. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and faint traces of spiritual energy.
Lin Fan's eyes scanned his surroundings, always on alert. The Desolate Mountains were no ordinary place; every step could lead to treasure—or death.
Hours passed as Lin Fan navigated the rugged landscape. He encountered small spirit beasts along the way—lesser creatures like rock lizards and shadow rabbits—but he avoided them for now. His battle with the tiger had taught him the importance of conserving his strength, and the meager spiritual energy these creatures could offer wasn't worth the risk of injury.
As the sun reached its zenith, Lin Fan stumbled upon a narrow ravine. The faint sound of running water echoed from within, and Lin Fan's parched throat tightened with hope.
"Water," he whispered, quickening his pace.
The ravine opened into a small, hidden valley, where a clear stream flowed through the rocky ground. Lin Fan knelt by the stream, cupping the cool water in his hands and drinking deeply. The refreshing liquid soothed his dry throat and reinvigorated his tired body.
But as he drank, his eyes caught something glimmering beneath the water. Lin Fan froze, his heart skipping a beat. Carefully, he reached into the stream and pulled out a small, translucent stone.
The stone was smooth and cold to the touch, and it radiated a faint blue light. Lin Fan's eyes widened in recognition.
"A Spirit Condensation Stone," he murmured.
Spirit Condensation Stones were rare treasures, formed by the accumulation of spiritual energy over countless years. They were invaluable to cultivators, as they could accelerate the absorption of spiritual energy and strengthen one's foundation.
Lin Fan's lips curled into a smile. This was exactly what he needed.
But his joy was short-lived. A sudden chill ran down his spine, and the faint sound of rustling leaves reached his ears. Lin Fan's instincts screamed danger, and he quickly turned his gaze toward the forested edge of the valley.
The bushes trembled, and from the shadows emerged a group of figures. At first glance, they appeared human, but their twisted features and glowing red eyes marked them as something far more sinister.
"Blood Shadow Fiends," Lin Fan whispered, his throat tightening.
Blood Shadow Fiends were corrupted beings, remnants of cultivators who had fallen prey to dark energy and lost their humanity. Though their cultivation was often incomplete, their ferocity and bloodlust made them deadly opponents.
There were three of them, their bodies hunched and their movements jerky. Their red eyes locked onto Lin Fan, and a low growl escaped their throats.
Lin Fan quickly pocketed the Spirit Condensation Stone and rose to his feet, his mind racing. He had no choice but to fight.
The first fiend lunged, its claws slashing through the air with unnatural speed. Lin Fan dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. The second fiend followed, its movements erratic but no less deadly.
Lin Fan countered with a swift strike, channeling a faint surge of energy into his fist. His blow connected with the fiend's chest, sending it stumbling backward, but the force wasn't enough to take it down.
"Damn," Lin Fan muttered under his breath. His cultivation was still too weak.
The third fiend joined the fray, flanking Lin Fan as the other two pressed their attacks. Lin Fan gritted his teeth, dodging and weaving between their strikes. He could feel his stamina draining with each movement, but he refused to back down.
As the fiends closed in, Lin Fan's thoughts turned to the Wheel of Destiny. Was there a way to call upon its power again? The wheel had saved him once before—if it could grant him another treasure, he might have a chance to turn the tide.
Dodging another swipe from the fiends, Lin Fan closed his eyes for a brief moment and focused inward.
"Wheel of Destiny," he called out in his mind, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "Turn for me once more!"
For a moment, nothing happened. The fiends snarled, their claws inches from Lin Fan's body. But then, Lin Fan felt a familiar warmth spread through his chest.
The wheel's voice echoed faintly in his mind: "The Wheel turns for those who dare."
Lin Fan's eyes snapped open as a surge of energy erupted from within him. A faint image of the wheel appeared in his mind, its intricate symbols spinning rapidly. When the wheel stopped, a single symbol glowed brightly—a shape resembling a crescent blade.
From the air before him, a weapon materialized—a curved dagger etched with glowing runes. Lin Fan grabbed the weapon without hesitation, feeling its power course through him.
The nearest fiend lunged at him again, but this time, Lin Fan was ready. He sidestepped the attack and slashed out with the dagger, its blade cutting through the fiend's corrupted flesh with ease. The creature let out a guttural shriek before collapsing to the ground.
The remaining two fiends hesitated, their red eyes flickering uncertainly. But Lin Fan didn't give them a chance to recover. He pressed the attack, his movements swift and precise. The dagger's runes blazed with light as it tore through the fiends, their bodies disintegrating into ash with each strike.
When the battle was over, Lin Fan stood in the center of the valley, the dagger still glowing faintly in his hand. His chest heaved, and sweat dripped from his brow, but he felt victorious.
The dagger dissolved into light, returning to wherever it had come from, but Lin Fan didn't mind. He had survived, and with the Spirit Condensation Stone in his possession, he was one step closer to his goal.
As Lin Fan gazed at the horizon, his resolve burned brighter than ever.
"This world tried to break me," he murmured, his voice steady. "But I won't stop. Not until I've taken back what's mine."
The Desolate Mountains were ruthless, but Lin Fan was proving to be even more so.