Wild cultivation begins with wielding the Taiyin talisman.

In the dense forest at the fork in the road, three figures were sprinting forward with all their might.

Zhong Hongyao ran in the lead, constantly flicking out silver needles from her fingertips, pinning the scattered water rats that chased her along the way to the mud. Her needlework was swift and skillful, and her steps did not falter for even a moment.

But her expression was far from calm; she was clenching her teeth, and there were faint glints of tears in the corners of her eyes.

She understood that Ning Che was buying them time.

Zhao He couldn't stop these rat demons, but Ning Che could.

The forest behind him shook as he ran, each step sending splattering through the mud. But as he ran, he suddenly stopped and turned to rush back.

"I can't fucking leave like this!" he roared, his eyes red, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked. "Brother Xing is carrying four level-eight beasts all by himself, and that four-eyed one isn't normal. He's going to his death!"

Zhao He also stopped. The young man was trembling all over, gripping the knife hilt tightly in his hand, and biting his lip until it bled.

With Chen Mugang dead and Ning Che covering their retreat, a wave of guilt and helplessness overwhelmed him. He opened his mouth, but could only manage a choked sob: "Brother Xing..."

"stop!"

Zhong Hongyao turned around abruptly, sternly stopping Lin Ye. Her usually cold voice held a rare hint of anger: "What's the use of you going back now? To die in there with him? Xing risked his life to get us out, not so we could go back and cause him trouble!"

"So we're just going to watch him die?!"

"We won't watch him die, he won't die—as long as we go to Caixia Village and bring reinforcements, we can save him!"

She spoke with absolute certainty, but her voice trembled slightly.

Lin Ye stared intently at the depths of the swamp. He couldn't see Ning Che's situation, but he could vaguely hear the sharp sounds of clashing weapons and the shrill cries of rat demons.

His chest heaved violently, and finally he slammed his fist hard against the tree trunk next to him.

The bark cracked, and sawdust flew everywhere.

"Alright, let's go to Caixia Village to get reinforcements."

He gritted his teeth, the words seeming to be squeezed out one by one from between his teeth: "If Brother Xing loses even a single hair, I'll uproot this swamp and chop all those rats into pieces for fertilizer!"

He grabbed Zhao He, who was still hesitating.

Without further delay, the three turned and ran again, rushing towards Caixia Village.

Meanwhile, deep within the swamp, Ning Che had been driven into a desperate situation.

The mud had already reached above his calves, and even with the help of the Moon Rabbit Breathing Technique, Ning Che's movements became difficult.

As the snow thinned, Ning Che could feel the effects of the pills waning. The power surging within his body receded like a receding tide, flowing away to his extremities, replaced by dull pain and biting cold.

Contrary to the physical pain and cold, he felt as if his heart was about to burn, roaring incessantly, urging him to kill.

The miasma is getting thicker and thicker.

You can see grayish-white mist swirling along the water's surface, occasionally condensing into a clump, like something alive breathing.

Before him, mud and water surged, and four rat demons lurked at a distance, occasionally leaping out to attack and cast spells, forcing him to fight and retreat, and thus he had no choice but to continue deeper into the fray.

They drove him here for a full fifteen minutes. Every time he tried to change direction, rat demons would block his way from the side, willing to injure themselves to stop him.

If no miracle occurs, the battle is already over.

Ever since he failed to break through at that fork in the road, he hasn't had a real chance. Every strike he makes now is nothing more than a desperate act of resistance.

He never pinned his hopes on miracles.

If this is the only way we can go, then let's go this far.

Since ancient times, no one has ever escaped death.

Whether in his past life or this one, every time he prepared to kill his enemy, he naturally thought about the day he would be killed himself.

Regardless of what the destination may be, he thought he was ready.

He exhaled a long breath, dispersing the faint echoes and making the lingering roars and wails of those ghosts seem distant.

Before we knew it, we had survived another ordeal.

The waning moon sensed something, and withdrew all its brilliance, leaving only a sliver of light on the blade's edge, resembling the moon as it was about to set.

It seemed to have broken free from some kind of comfort, becoming faster and colder, forcing the four rat demons in front of it to increase the frequency of their attacks again in order to suppress Ning Che once more.

The snow falls silently, only making a clear, resonant sound when it clashes with sharp teeth and claws.

He had clearly become stronger, but unfortunately, his condition was already too poor. Even though the four-eyed rat demon had stopped emitting its glowing aura, he had no chance to reverse his current defeat.

Just then, the terrain suddenly rose. The mud became shallower, and Ning Che began to feel a hard texture under his feet, as if he were stepping on stone.

We've probably arrived.

After walking a few more steps, he stepped on many jagged bumps.

Ning Che looked down and thought he would see something like reefs or coral.

But no.

Those bumps and hollows on the ground are all bones.

The ground was covered with countless white bones, including rat bones, snake bones, bird bones, and many others that he could not identify.

His gaze lingered for a moment on a few of the pieces—human bones.

The rat demons intensified their attack, charging forward in a frenzy. Even the four-eyed rat demon, which had been conserving its power, made its four eyes light up, each color signifying a different spell.

But amidst the flurry of sword flashes, all attacks had to retreat or be dismantled; for a time, they were unable to defeat Ning Che.

Although some were already severely injured, and although the four demons hadn't managed to collect a single demon bone, they were still genuine eighth-rank demons. They painstakingly drove their prey to the slaughterhouse, but still couldn't kill them easily.

They were angry too.

The four-eyed rat demon let out a shriek, and yellow, red, blue, and white lights lit up in its eyes in turn, spinning into a circle.

At the same time, two rat demons pounced from the left and right, and the last rat demon stabbed its claws into the ground, causing a stone pillar to rise from behind Ning Che.

The all-hearing ears faithfully captured all of this, but even if Ning Che knew, what could he do?

Let alone his current state of exhaustion, depleted sword energy, and depleted mana, leaving him helpless. Even in his prime, could he possibly withstand such a move?

He didn't think he could.

The difference in cultivation level is a very real phenomenon, and this four-eyed rat demon is by no means weak among the eighth-rank cultivators. Unless he can directly open his dantian, he will not have a chance to fight four opponents alone.

However, cultivation is never something that can be accomplished overnight. No matter how talented or monstrous a person may be, they must climb the mountain step by step.

Therefore, he was not going to accept the call.

He was completely focused and went all in, drawing his knife with a desperate gamble.

The blade's light was so ethereal it seemed like a snowflake drifting on the wind past the shimmering, rotating ring.