Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Swarm

Pale-black snowflakes drifted slowly from the sky, as if the gods were adorning the world with elegant ink, or as though the countryside in a dark fairy tale had been filled with despair, stirring a faint sadness and melancholy in the heart. Yet these black snowflakes never reached the ground—or rather, before they could touch it, the heat radiating from below sublimated them into nothingness. Beyond the crest of this small hill, behind her lay a world of ice and snow, while before her stretched an arid, black-brown wasteland. The cold behind was bone-chilling; the heat ahead pressed against her like a furnace. Standing at this point of intersection, the sensation of ice and fire warring within was enough to drive one mad. Even with Katherine’s constitution, she could only endure a few minutes before the discomfort became unbearable; for an ordinary person, a single minute would almost certainly lead to serious illness.

She quickly set foot on the black-brown plain, her bare feet touching the ground, and Katherine couldn’t help but grimace: the surface was scorching, surely over forty degrees, rivaling the temperatures of the driest deserts. Ling Mo stood not far off, gesturing to a large boulder nearby, suggesting she rest for a while.

Her strength indeed felt sapped. She slowly walked over and sat beside the stone. At once, she noticed the excellence of her clothing: though the boulder was even hotter than the ground, sitting on it in her shorts, she felt none of the heat. On the contrary, it felt cool and comfortable, an unexpected relief.

Freed from her frantic running, Katherine immediately sensed her energy recovering at an astonishing rate. Judging by the feeling, she’d be back at her peak in minutes. However, the depletion of food reserves in her body was equally alarming; whereas before she had felt nothing, now hunger gnawed at her.

Hunger was bearable, but as she licked her lips, she felt as if there were flames burning in her throat. Already somewhat dehydrated, the long run had left her parched beyond endurance. Yet it was clear this barren land would not easily yield any water. Forcing herself to shift her attention, she reached out to catch the black snowflakes drifting from above, intending to show off to her streaming audience.

But to her surprise, the snowflakes that landed in her palm were pure white! Indistinguishable from ordinary snow, they melted at once, leaving only tiny beads of moisture on her skin. Perplexed, Katherine looked closely at her hand, then reached out again, catching several more snowflakes in succession. At last, she was certain: the “black snow” falling from the sky was nothing more than ordinary snow!

But why did they appear black? A suspicion rising in her mind, she quickly stood, hurried back to the hilltop where the two worlds met, and retreated a dozen paces into the snowy side. Looking up, she finally discovered the secret behind the black snow!

It wasn’t the snow itself that was black, but rather that the far side of the hill was shrouded in a vast black mist! This fog was everywhere, yet so translucent it scarcely affected visibility, making it easy to overlook. From where she stood, the left-hand side was a fairytale world of white drifting snow, while the right was shrouded in black flakes like the ruins of an apocalypse. The spectacle was so breathtaking she found herself entranced, and her viewers were equally captivated.

Just as Katherine was about to offer some witty, poetic commentary to display her long-suppressed literary flair—and perhaps coax some gifts from her audience—Ling Mo’s voice rose from the other side of the slope:

“Have you seen enough? If so, come over. There are some things I need to explain to you.”

At his words, Katherine hurried over, only to find Ling Mo holding a squirrel of unknown origin. Or at least, it resembled one: all plump and mouse-like, with a bushy tail trailing behind. The main difference was its fur, blazing red like fire rather than the usual gray or brown, and its ever-lashing tail looked for all the world like a dancing flame.

“See this?” Ling Mo said as she approached. “This squirrel is called a ‘Tartan Blazing Sprite.’ Normally it’s a level-two magical beast, though rare ones can advance to level three or four. I’ve never seen a level-five. It’s fairly weak, bottom of the ranks among its peers, but it has one characteristic that’s extremely important for martial cultivators like us.”

Katherine, still half-dreaming from the beauty she’d seen, answered absentmindedly, “Oh? What trait?”

“Forcing out its flame essence and using it to cook magical beasts of the same tier preserves about seventy or eighty percent of the meat’s energy. The effect lasts three to five days.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Ling Mo replied, and with a casual flick, tossed the squirrel away.

Katherine watched blankly as the squirrel arced through the air, rolled once on the ground, then scrambled up to flee. Suddenly snapping out of her daze, she let out a shriek and dove after it with a pounce quicker than she’d ever managed in her life. The squirrel, sensing the danger, dodged nimbly aside and darted off like a streak of fire.

Katherine landed sprawled on the ground, headfirst, rear end high, sliding some distance. She watched helplessly as the flaming squirrel vanished into the distance, then scrambled up, mouth open to shout, but swallowed the words and sighed in frustration. “Master, why did you let it go?”

“I thought you didn’t care…”

“How could I not care!” Katherine was nearly in tears. “That was the beacon of hope for a cooked meal! Why let it go? Eating raw food every day is making my mouth taste bitter—I even burp up a stench!”

Ling Mo teased, “You know, the Tartan Blazing Sprite’s flame essence is quite limited. Roasting one sheep-sized magical beast is enough to kill it, so every hot meal means another innocent squirrel’s life. Don’t you think that’s a bit cruel?”

“Not at all!” Katherine replied instantly, without a second’s hesitation. “I think a cooked meal is more important. Master, are these squirrels easy to catch? Are they common?”

“They’re easy enough to catch, but as for distribution? There’s none. The Tartan Blazing Sprite is unique to this black fog region; nowhere else has them.” Ling Mo gave her a look as if she were an idiot. “If they were everywhere, do you think your master would live like a barbarian eating raw food every day? You think raw liver tastes great?”

“….” Katherine exhaled her frustration, settling for second best. “Well, at least we’ve got them around here for now. One more cooked meal is a blessing. Master, how long will we stay in this area?”

“Not long. No more than three days at most,” Ling Mo replied with a frown. “In fact, if your dehydration problem weren’t so severe, I wouldn’t have come here at all. This black fog is very troublesome, and even I feel distinctly uncomfortable here.”

“Even you don’t want to deal with it?” Katherine was startled. “Is the black fog poisonous?”

“It’s not poison. It’s mainly because… well, you’ll understand when you meet the true master of this place. For now, follow me.” Ling Mo glanced at her and added, “The magical beasts here are much more perceptive than those outside. If you pull any more reckless stunts, my ‘aura concealment’ skill won’t be able to keep you safe.”

Even I almost got myself killed just now. I’ll behave for a while, all right? Katherine kept silent, but replied inwardly as she fell in beside Ling Mo, running once again. Perhaps the faster pace made the ground feel less hot underfoot. As they advanced, the black mist grew denser and began to hinder visibility.

The mist was a minor annoyance, but soon magical beasts began to appear in droves—a far greater problem. Katherine had to take great care to avoid them. Solitary hunters were one thing, but she even spotted a massive pack of thirty or forty “Phantom Wolves.” Their leader was twice the size of the others, exuding an aura far beyond that of a level-four beast.

This enormous pack was hunting a Blackback Kodo Beast. Their leader alone distracted the beast, while the rest of the pack coordinated their attacks with flaming claws and hurled energy blades, targeting its vulnerable spots. Now and then, the flash of a “Demon Penetration Cannon” would light up. The Kodo’s huge body was already covered in wounds, looking exhausted and close to collapse.

Carefully threading her way past the pack, Katherine paused to watch their skill. The leader’s flaming claws differed entirely from the others: it could ignite both forepaws with blazing fire and slash in an X-shaped cross, severing the Kodo’s three-meter-long horn in a single blow.

She was watching, enthralled, when a great buzzing filled the air. Before she could react, a “red cloud” rose from the shadowed slope, shot skyward like a crimson banner, then swooped down in a dark mass, enveloping both the Kodo and the wolves in an impenetrable shroud. Amidst the sound of cicadas in summer and the sickening gnawing noise, one could only imagine the grisly scene. When the “red cloud” lifted off again, nothing remained of the Kodo and wolves but their stark white skeletons, still standing in the positions they had held in life.