Beast Taming: Starting from Transmigration and Starting with a Cheat Code

In contrast to the relaxed and warm atmosphere within the academy, the northern border region, thousands of miles away, is experiencing the coldest season of the year.

The leaden sky hung low, and a biting wind, carrying ice crystals, howled across the bare rocks and sparse vegetation.

This is the edge of the Abyss Realm, known as the "Forbidden Zone for Living Beings," a shallow buffer zone.

Qin Ming had been unable to contact Master Zheng for a long time. At this moment, Zheng Da was trudging through the black frozen soil, which was over his ankles and mixed with ice shards.

His once energetic face was now filled with exhaustion, his eyes were sunken, his lips were chapped from dryness and cold, and stubble was sticking out in a mess.

Each exhaled breath condenses into a long white mist in the cold air, which is then torn apart by the gale.

His specially made cold-weather psionic combat suit was damaged in many places and covered with marks that were hard to tell whether they were frost or dirt.

But his back remained ramrod straight, like an old pine tree rooted in a cliff, steadily walking at the very front of the group.

"Hang in there, we're almost there." His voice was hoarse, but carried a reassuring calmness as he turned to speak to those behind him.

Behind him followed a silent and slow-moving group. There were seven or eight rescued garrison personnel, most of them with vacant and unfocused eyes, their faces still bearing expressions of fear or bewilderment, as if a part of their souls was still lost in that eerie fog.

They supported each other, stepping in Zheng Da's footprints, some deep, some shallow, their movements stiff, seemingly unresponsive to the biting cold around them.

Further back, a massive duck with somewhat dull feathers was struggling to support a translucent, constantly fluctuating pale blue psionic shield.

The protective shield enveloped the entire team, blocking out some of the cold wind. More importantly, it provided gentle, soothing mental stimulation, striving to maintain the last vestiges of consciousness in the wounded and prevent them from being consumed by illusions.

The Spirit Abyss Duck possesses a rare super-powerful secondary attribute, exhibiting resistance to the eroding forces of the Abyss Realm that far surpasses that of other spirit beasts of the same rank.

But at this moment, his usually wise and calm eyes were bloodshot, and his neck seemed to be bearing an invisible weight, making every step he took heavy.

"Quack..." Upon hearing Zheng Da's words, Lingyuan Duck squeezed out a low, hoarse response from its throat.

He strained to maintain the stability of the shield, not daring to relax even slightly.

In fact, given Zheng Da's status as the owner of a large city museum and his responsibility to guard it, he would never easily leave his post unless there were extremely special and urgent circumstances, let alone be out of contact for a long time.

Unfortunately, this incident came too suddenly. Several days ago, the usually relatively stable entrance area of ​​the Abyss Realm suddenly experienced a violent surge of psionic energy, accompanied by a strange gray mist spreading outwards.

The elite reconnaissance and defense squads stationed there were the first to be hit, and before they could even send out a distress signal, they were swallowed up by the surging fog.

The incident happened suddenly, and the command center at the rear was instantly thrown into chaos. The infamous Abyss Realm was known to all; its internal environment was bizarre and unpredictable, its spatial structure unstable, and even more terrifying was its all-pervasive mental erosion power, capable of inducing the deepest fears and chaos within one's heart.

Conventional rescue methods would be tantamount to suicide, and a high-level expert forcibly entering could trigger even more violent spatial tremors, making it impossible for the lost to return.

It was under these circumstances that Zheng Da was appointed to the critical mission.

The reason is simple: his Lingyuan Duck is one of the most resistant spirit beasts to mental erosion known within a thousand miles, and it also has a certain ability to protect a group.

At the same time, he participated in the early exploration of the Abyss Realm when he was young and has a certain understanding of the characteristics of its shallow areas.

Without time to hesitate, Zheng Da, carrying the Lingyuan Duck, plunged into the churning gray fog during a brief lull in the riot.

The situation inside was worse than expected.

The sense of space was completely distorted; familiar scenery was twisted and deformed in the fog; and whispers and roars of indistinguishable origin, directly affecting the mind, filled the air.

Every step could lead to unknown dangers, and every moment requires resisting the corrosive force that tries to penetrate the mind and evoke countless negative emotions.

The search for survivors was long and arduous. The Spirit Abyss Duck's telepathic abilities were also severely suppressed within the Abyss Realm.

They painstakingly located the scattered wounded, some of whom had gone completely mad, attacking anything living they could see; others were in a deep hysteria, either standing motionless or muttering to themselves, unresponsive to reality.

Zheng Da not only had to protect himself, but also had to find a way to subdue or comfort the wounded, and use the power of the Lingyuan Duck to build a temporary psychological barrier for them to prevent them from harming themselves or attacking each other during the process of being taken away.

This is almost like single-handedly dragging several heavy "burdens" through a quagmire.

The physical and spiritual energy expenditure is secondary; the real torment is the mental strain of constantly fighting against mental pollution and maintaining absolute clarity.

Several times, even Zheng Da felt his will begin to blur, but it was the timely spiritual resonance from Lingyuan Duck that pulled him back.

Lingyuan Duck's exceptional sense of direction and spatial positioning ability, derived from avian instincts and enhanced by superpowers, played a crucial role in this situation.

This is their guiding light.

I don't know how long we traveled through the gray fog and chaos, maybe a day, maybe several days—time is meaningless here.

Finally, the fog ahead began to thin, and the pervasive sense of mental oppression gradually lessened.

Another ten minutes or so passed, which felt like an eternity. The gray mist, like the receding tide, gradually thinned and dissipated. The long-awaited, though bleak, yet undeniably real, sunlight pierced through the clouds and shone on Zheng Da's frost-covered face.

He squinted, adjusting his eyes to the "normal" light.

Before me lay the familiar desolate frontier landscape, and in the distance, the outline of a majestic protective wall. Though the sky was gloomy, it was no longer distorted or eerie.

The cold wind was still biting, but the air was no longer filled with that nauseating, spiritually decaying stench.

Sunlight. Even just the faint sunlight in winter.

Zheng Da tilted his head back and took a deep, greedy breath of the cold, yet incredibly "clean" air.

The stale air that had been suppressed in his chest seemed to be expelled with it.

He had never appreciated this ordinary light and scenery as much as he did at this moment.

In the distance, the support personnel who had been waiting anxiously outside the safety line also spotted them.

Several psionic transport vehicles with flashing emergency lights roared to life and sped over, followed by a group of psionic healers in white coats and a stretcher team.

Before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop, a middle-aged military officer wearing a heavy military overcoat and with an anxious expression jumped out and almost staggered towards Zheng Da.

Looking at the wounded soldiers who had been brought out behind Zheng Da with dazed eyes, and then at Zheng Da's exhausted appearance, which was almost at his limit, he was so excited that his lips trembled and he couldn't utter a complete sentence for a moment.

Zheng Da raised his hand and gently patted the other person's shoulder. His movements were a little stiff, and his voice was hoarse but steady. "I have successfully brought it back."

These few words carry a weight exceeding a thousand pounds.

The officer gripped Zheng Da's cold hand tightly, shaking it vigorously. All his gratitude, admiration, and lingering fear turned into repeated cries: "You've worked so hard! Master Zheng! You've worked so hard! Quickly, get some rest!"

On the other side, well-trained rescuers efficiently and carefully took over the wounded, placing them on stretchers with constant temperature and calming runes and sending them to a specially established mental health center in the rear.

Although their mental disorientation cannot be cured overnight and the recovery process is destined to be long, everything is only possible if they can survive the Abyss of Delusion.

Everyone present understood this principle. Therefore, every glance directed at Zheng Da was filled with sincere respect.

Zheng Da did not refuse this care. He personally handed the exhausted and even somewhat debilitated Lingyuan Duck to the spirit healer who came to greet him and was in charge of treating spirit beasts. He carefully gave a few instructions on the details and watched as Lingyuan Duck was carefully helped into the specially made care chamber before he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The nerves, stretched taut for days and nights like a bowstring pulled to its limit, finally collapsed at this moment.

A wave of intense fatigue washed over him, and his vision even blurred.

He was helped into a warm car, where someone handed him hot drinks and energy drinks.

He drank it mechanically, the warm liquid flowing down his throat, bringing a negligible warmth.

Only then did he feel his personal terminal vibrate slightly—before entering the Abyss Realm, all communication devices were forcibly shut down or blocked, and would only reconnect after leaving a certain range.

He struggled to lift his heavy arm and tapped the screen. Once the signal was restored, a flood of messages poured in. He glanced at them; most were inquiries and follow-up arrangements from the association and command center, along with a few messages of greeting from family.

As for that long list of unread messages and missed communication requests from his nephew.

Normally, Zheng Da might have smiled and clicked to see what this kid was up to this time.

But now that he's relaxed, he seems to have almost no strength left, not even to lift a finger; his thoughts are sluggish and sluggish.

"What is Wenjie up to now...?" he vaguely thought. In his memory, this nephew loved to write long essays filled with exclamation marks, the content of which was nothing more than interesting things in the academy or confusion about cultivation.

What real problems could one encounter while staying in the safe environment of an academy?

Let's wait until we're more sober before dealing with it.

Before the idea could even fully take shape, the boundless darkness gently and irresistibly engulfed him.

The body automatically enters the deepest restorative sleep, and consciousness sinks into a chaotic ocean.

Before completely losing consciousness, perhaps because of something I had been thinking about all day, an extremely faint thought, like a bubble at the bottom of the water, gently rose and then burst:

If only... there were a cure for this loss of perception and mental erosion... how wonderful that would be...