Great Wilderness Demon Lord

Thirty years later, the true atmosphere of the frontier region is palpable.

When I woke up in the morning, the grass blades were covered with a thin layer of white frost, and my breath turned into mist.

The roadside is lined with hardy pines and firs, their dark green foliage appearing particularly somber under the gray-white sky.

The official road is still well maintained, but most of the vehicles traveling on it are heavily loaded caravans, with guards often making up more than 30% of each caravan. Although this area is still under the jurisdiction of the Dayong Law, guarding against wild beasts and occasional stray riders crossing the border has become an essential consideration for travelers.

Villages and towns became sparse, often only appearing every seventy or eighty miles, but they were quite large, mostly in the form of "Tunpu" (fortified villages).

The thick rammed earth walls, the deep trenches, and the towering watchtowers on the walls all reveal its semi-militarized nature.

The streets and alleys inside the fort are straight as a ruler, and the center must have a well, a granary and an armory for storing weapons.

When residents see a convoy passing by, the men will subconsciously press the hilt of their knives at their waists, their eyes wary and sharp—an almost instinctive vigilance developed from years of living in the border region.

Outside a large fortified village called "Huangshabao," Xiao Yunlan witnessed what the hub of the border region's supply chain looked like.

Outside the fort, a temporary market stretched for miles across the open ground, with tents, prefab houses, and warehouses of all kinds densely packed together, and caravans and supplies were parked full.

Salt, iron, and cloth from the south were unloaded and repackaged here, while leather goods and medicinal herbs from the north were gathered here awaiting transport.

There were also vendors who specialized in pioneering work, selling specially made thick fur coats, medicine packets that claimed to ward off miasma, cold-resistant exotic grains, and various versions of the Great Wilderness map.

An old map vendor pointed to the winding ink lines on the parchment scroll in his hand and said to Xiao Yunlan, "Sir, three hundred li further north from here is Zhenhuang Pass. Beyond the pass, that's where the 'Great Wilderness' begins."

He pointed to the fortress wall and the distant, faintly visible field ridges, "These areas inside the pass may look desolate, but they're at most considered the frontier; the rules are still in place."

Xiao Yunlan bought a scroll of "Map of the Great Wilderness" with slightly more detailed annotations.

The map includes brief annotations of mountains, rivers, dangerous passes, valleys, and even the types of wild animals one might encounter. There are also a few blurry "old camp ruins" markings on the edges.

A line of tiny characters in the corner of the drawing, straight yet striking: "Drawn by the pioneering team 'Black Stone' in September of the twenty-third year of Yongchang, with three members remaining."

He carefully put the map away. Deep within his dantian, the cunning demon's azure aura subtly shifted, coldly and efficiently using this new information to deduce the possible risks ahead and corresponding countermeasures.

Xiao Yunlan felt little joy at the prospect of finding "resources," but rather a slight alarm bell was ringing—the more active the demonic thoughts became, the more vigilant he needed to be against their backlash.

-----------------

In the last ten days, the colors of the world faded day by day.

The scenery shifted from sparse to desolate, with thorny bushes and brambles growing close to the ground everywhere, and it was hard to find any decent trees.

The vastness of the open fields was unsettling, the sky seemed incredibly high and distant, and the wind swept across the wilderness without any obstruction, whipping up sand and gravel that, with their rough texture, stung our faces and crept into our collars.

The official road is no longer paved with stone slabs; only dirt roads, worn deep by countless carts and horses, remain, one rut after another, like wrinkles etched into the earth by the years.

So sparsely populated that sometimes you can drive all day without seeing a single village.

Only occasionally, atop a hill, one might see a solitary watchtower, its flag fluttering wildly in the wind.

When the convoy is seen in the distance, the soldiers on the tower will wave their flags, signaling the peace agreed upon by the border troops—the only remaining mark of human order on this vast land.

The cold air is getting worse every day.

Even during the day, one must wrap oneself tightly in a fur coat, for the wind is like a cold knife, stinging the exposed skin with every slap.

The veterans began to teach more subtle ways of life: to apply refined animal fat to their hands and faces to prevent frostbite and cracking, and to teach the families of craftsmen how to weave thick pads from dried weeds and stuff them into their boots.

When camping for the night, you must find a sheltered spot on a rocky cliff or mound to set up camp; otherwise, the campfire will be easily blown away by the strong wind, and the pervasive cold will be enough to freeze your blood.

On such a night, with the wind howling like ghosts, Xiao Yunlan, who was staying in a cave in the rock wall, attempted the most difficult training he had undertaken since his journey north.

The wind howled fiercely outside the cave, while the campfire inside flickered erratically. He held his breath and focused his mind, guiding the Qi into his body according to the methods of the "Qi Cultivation Technique".

The spiritual energy of heaven and earth here is completely different from that of the capital city—it is thin and scattered, with a wild and violent quality, like sand dancing wildly in the wind, extremely difficult to capture, let alone tame and integrate into the meridians.

What made his heart sink was that the eight demons dormant within his dantian reacted unusually violently to this environment.

In particular, the crimson representing "unparalleled courage" and the gray symbolizing "plague and death" seemed to resonate dangerously with the desolate and frigid world outside, beginning to stir and convey a distorted "pleasure".

They frantically seized and tore at the raging spiritual energy. Although eight or nine out of ten were dispersed and worn away by the binding power of the "Eight Formations for Binding Demons," a trace of extremely weak but uniquely characteristic energy—mixed with scorching fighting spirit and chilling deathly silence—seeped into his meridians.

After circulating the energy for three cycles, cold sweat beaded on Xiao Yunlan's forehead. This was not entirely due to the difficulty of the exercise, but rather the fear and trepidation in his heart.

He could clearly sense that this newly refined Qi was more solid and possessed a certain tenacious destructive power than it had in the capital—this might be a "benefit".

However, what accompanied this was the obvious satiation and desire conveyed by Yama's clearly aroused state, and even a sense of "fullness" as a result.

They seemed to be whispering: This is the soil they truly desire.

This realization sent a chill down Xiao Yunlan's spine.

While one's strength might increase in an unconventional way as a result, the growth of demonic intent and its "fit" with the environment are more like a poison coated in sugar.

He stared at the thick darkness outside the cave that swallowed everything, and instead of feeling at ease, he felt a deeper sense of wariness about the road ahead.

Using the power of demonic thoughts is like walking on the edge of an abyss, and this wasteland that seems to allow him to "grow faster" may be the most tempting entrance to that abyss.

-----------------

At dusk at the end of the third month, the legendary barrier finally appeared on the horizon.

First, it was a gray shadow on the horizon, which gradually rose and extended as the convoy moved forward, eventually transforming into a majestic wall that stretched across the sky and the earth.

The wall is built of local dark blue giant rocks, more than ten feet high, and gleams with a cold, hard metallic luster in the afterglow of the setting sun.

The walls are fortified with sharp, jagged battlements, and banners flutter in the wind. Every hundred paces, an arrow tower stands, and the bronze bells atop the towers occasionally emit a low hum in the wind, the sound waves rippling through the twilight.

What's even more breathtaking is the scene in front of the pass.

Five li away from the pass, a continuous area of ​​camps had already formed on both sides of the official road.

Hundreds and thousands of tents, prefab houses, and warehouses stood side by side, with smoke rising from their chimneys and the sounds of people and horses creating a bustling, vibrant scene.

Caravans from the north and south converged, dispersed, traded, and prepared here. Pioneer teams laden with goods prepared to enter the pass, while returning caravans unloaded their supplies. Porters, carriage drivers, and warehouse workers who specialized in "passing through the pass" weaved through the crowd, shouting and making a ruckus.

The air was thick with the stench of livestock, leather, cheap spices, and sweat, along with a restless, almost greedy, energy.

"Zhenhuang Pass." Steward Wu spurred his horse forward, pointed into the distance, and said with a sense of relief after a long journey, "We've finally arrived."

A slight commotion arose in the ranks. The veterans unconsciously straightened their backs, and the children of the artisans' families peeked out from the gaps in the covered wagon curtains, their eyes wide as they gazed at this giant border city and the bustling human activity in front of it.