Chapter Fourteen: Blood Moon

Wang Xian, the only card master in their settlement, narrowed his eyes as he examined her closely. She was rather attractive. This was simply a normal man’s first reaction upon seeing a woman: first, observe her appearance, then her words. When facing a stranger, regardless of gender, one’s initial instinct was always to assess their looks.

The death of the two earth giants did not mark the end of the dungeon. On the contrary, it was just the beginning...

In the distance, a horde of goblins was already surging forward. Some among them exuded an especially formidable aura; perhaps there were even second-tier goblins mixed in. But the firebird's onslaught was not yet over. Five enormous fireballs burst from its beak, crossing the space and thundering into the advancing goblins.

The very air seemed to twist from the oppressive heat that erupted as the five fireballs appeared. Even Lu Sheng, who was watching from afar, could feel the scorching wave.

The fireballs crashed into the goblin horde, exploding with a deafening roar and sending blistering waves in all directions. Countless goblins perished in the blasts, their mangled limbs flung skyward. Those five fireballs alone had claimed at least two to three hundred goblins.

Lu Sheng’s eyes burned with envy—if only he had slain them himself.

After unleashing its barrage, the firebird wilted, reverting into a card and returning to Wang Xian’s hand. Clearly, it had exhausted its strength.

Seeing this, Li Kuang sent his wind wolf to mop up the battlefield. The remaining goblins stood no chance. The powerful wind wolf darted among them with impunity—its speed rendered the goblins utterly incapable of laying a finger on it.

At that moment, the wind wolf was like an elegant predator, hunting at will. The hundred or so remaining goblins were soon slaughtered to the last.

Standing atop the final goblin corpse, the wind wolf licked its paw with pride, then looked back at its master with an air of smugness.

“So strong... The chief’s strength is at the peak of second tier, but Wang Xian seems even stronger than our chief?” Lu Sheng asked Mu Kui, a trace of confusion in his voice. Wang Xian’s performance far outshone Li Kuang’s.

“I’m not too sure about that. All I know is that Wang Xian holds a position equal to the chief in our settlement, and his origins are shrouded in mystery. One day, he just appeared out of nowhere, and Li Kuang even called a meeting to announce Wang Xian’s status.” Mu Kui truly knew little about him, but that was hardly her fault. Wang Xian rarely left his room, so it was impossible to know much.

“The dungeon’s cleared. Let’s head back. After waiting an hour, we can finally sleep,” Mu Kui said, stifling a yawn, still looking half-asleep.

Lu Sheng ignored Mu Kui, his gaze fixed on the sky, his expression growing grave as he uttered two words: “Blood Moon.”

The instant the words left his mouth, the entire dungeon space was washed in red, especially the crescent moon high above—now a glaring, blood-red arc.

A crimson moon in broad daylight—a most ominous sight.

Mu Kui, eyes still squinting, hadn’t yet realized what had happened. All she’d heard was Lu Sheng murmuring something about the blood moon.

“What did you say?”

“Get ready. For the next hour, we’re on our own.”

The Blood Moon—a special phenomenon within the dungeon space. It appeared only when all monsters in the dungeon were slain, and would then transport every living being within the instance into a strange monster world.

In the past, all they had to do was survive for an hour—the time it took for the monsterless dungeon to disappear. Once the dungeon vanished, they would be brought back.

The teleportation was random; they would not arrive together. Sometimes nothing would happen, sometimes they might encounter fearsome monsters. As long as their luck wasn’t too poor, they would return safely.

Mu Kui, still muddled, wanted to ask Lu Sheng for clarification, but time had already run out.

In the next second, they vanished from the dungeon.

From the moment the blood moon appeared to their disappearance, the entire process took less than five seconds—hardly any time to react.

Lu Sheng knew about the blood moon thanks to Sky Island, the faction he had belonged to in his previous life.

Night blanketed the land. In the depths of a forest, a lone figure suddenly materialized. Lu Sheng surveyed his surroundings; the only source of light in the darkness was the moon overhead.

It too was blood-red, painting the earth in a ghastly crimson. It was as if he had entered a world awash in blood—a jarring, unsettling place.

This monster world was exceedingly dangerous. It was rumored that all monsters here, under the blood moon, had entered a berserk state, their aggression heightened to extremes.

As his gaze swept over the dense, tangled forest, Lu Sheng couldn’t shake the sense that at any moment something might leap out at him—a peculiar, pressing sense of danger wrapped itself around him.

Now was not the time to hide his abilities. There was no one here who knew him.

He summoned nine goblins. Only with these green-skinned creatures encircling him did he feel a sliver of security.

Eight were ordinary goblins wielding wooden clubs, and one was a stone-throwing goblin.

The most urgent task was to find a safe spot to survive the hour. As long as he could last through the hour, he would be safe.

As for hunting monsters in this world, the thought never crossed his mind. Placing himself in needless danger would be the height of folly—especially now, when he had begun his path of cultivation. Given enough time, his strength would soar.

He no longer felt any enthusiasm for slaying monsters.

The dense forest was perilous; he had no way of knowing if monsters lurked in the thickets. He directed the goblins to clear a path, searching for either an open area or a concealed spot.

An open area would reduce the risk of ambush, though he’d be exposed—an option to consider only when there was no choice. A hidden spot, on the other hand, would be ideal; once concealed, he need only endure an hour.

But as he moved deeper into the forest, he found nowhere suitable to hide. Anxiety gnawed at him; wandering in such terrain was itself fraught with peril—one wrong step could spell his doom.

Fortunately, after some time, he finally found a place that satisfied him—a spot both open and concealed, a perfect blend of his two requirements.

It was a jumble of massive rocks, barren of any grass or trees, nothing but naked stone. Settling in, Lu Sheng found a spot and remained still.

He did not recall his goblins; having them stand guard was safer.

[Piglet Card +1]

Lu Sheng: ?

What was this about? How did he suddenly receive a card?

Piglet... Could it be the sub-dimensional space?

With that thought, Lu Sheng projected his consciousness within.

Good heavens—the ten sturdy piglets he’d once had were now reduced to skin and bones, not a trace of meat on them. One had already died, and the remaining nine looked close to death.

Two bloodthirsty mosquitoes perched nearby, their abdomens swollen to the size of fists and gleaming with blood, hovering above a puddle—perhaps laying eggs.

Yet a single piglet was far larger than the pair of mosquitoes combined. How had these two managed to drain all ten piglets into desiccated husks?

Did the mosquitoes’ bellies hold some mysterious space within?