Chapter Forty-Nine: Formidable Foe

Chapter Forty-Nine: [Formidable Enemy]

A streak of light shot out from the land of death, darting away like a meteor. Several teams of ability-user hunters nearby witnessed the spectacle, their curiosity piqued as they followed the luminous trail. When they realized it encased a human—a fellow ability-user like themselves—cries of astonishment erupted among them.

"Could that be the infamous bastard Wadsworth?"

"Damn it, how dare that arrogant jerk act so brazenly!"

"Should we form a team and take him down together?"

"Let's do it! My armor is top-grade, I can withstand his attacks."

"Fool, Wadsworth rarely fights head-on. If he senses the tide turning, he'll slip away in an instant."

While these ability-user hunters were plotting pursuit, someone suddenly shouted, followed by a scramble as more of them rushed to dodge.

It turned out that hot on the heels of that streak of light was a massive army of black-striped king scorpions, their ranks a chaotic mix of red, blue, black, and white—led by a gigantic queen scorpion. The swarm surged forth, unstoppable; several hunter teams, caught off guard or too slow to evade, were instantly swallowed by the tide of scorpions—an unstoppable slaughter.

When the scorpion army finally passed, the ground lay in utter ruin. Of those unlucky hunters caught in their path, not even remains could be found.

"Good grief, did Wadsworth poke a hornet’s nest of black-striped king scorpions? Why else would so many chase him out of that graveyard?"

"Maybe he cuckolded the scorpion king!"

"Idiot, king scorpions are matriarchal—the leader is the queen."

"Who knows? I just hope the scorpion queen rips him to pieces."

Watching the fading streak of light and the receding scorpion horde, many hunters muttered curses against Wadsworth, their hearts still pounding with lingering fear. Among them was a man wearing a hat and a mask, his features obscured, but his eyes cold and shadowed as he trailed in the light’s direction.

Meanwhile, in the distance, Xia Zheng skimmed the ground in low flight, astonished by the scorpions' relentless pursuit. That they would chase him so far from the land of death—did they intend to pursue him to the ends of the earth?

"My mental energy’s being seriously depleted," Xia Zheng thought, feeling a mounting ache in his head. Flight of this kind consumed a vast amount of psychic power, and he had no quick way to replenish it.

"Damn it, are you forcing me to devour someone else’s spirit? Don’t blame me, then." At present, his only means of recovery was the 'Devour' attribute from the Soul Refining Technique, but he rarely used this particular power unless absolutely necessary. Yet the persistent chase by the scorpions had frayed his patience.

With a grim resolve, he clenched his teeth and instantly accelerated, putting a wide distance between himself and the scorpion army below.

A piercing shriek split the air. The scorpion queen, sensing her quarry slipping further away, screamed in fury, sending rings of sonic waves rippling outward in pursuit of Xia Zheng.

Sensing the incoming sound waves, Xia Zheng immediately dropped altitude and landed, breaking into a sprint. This conserved much of his mental energy, while still allowing for considerable speed—at his fastest, nearly two hundred yards per second.

Half an hour later, Xia Zheng’s senses told him that the king scorpions had finally given up the chase. By now, he was far from the land of death; clearly, the scorpions had their reasons for nesting there.

Ahead, a river blocked his path. He gauged his remaining psychic power—barely enough for ten more minutes of flight, but he was loath to use this last reserve unless absolutely necessary.

Channeling his energy to his feet, he formed a smooth mirage beneath him and dashed across the river’s surface as if running on glass.

Halfway across, an icy prickle of being watched crawled over him, uncomfortable and chilling.

"Is it just my imagination?" Xia Zheng looked around but found nothing suspicious. Yet the sensation lodged deep within, stubborn and unshakable.

He pressed on with heightened vigilance, trusting his instincts. As a mind-wielder, each increment of psychic power seemed to attune him more closely to some mysterious realm; every advance sharpened his senses and honed his premonition of danger. This unease was not mere paranoia—it was a genuine premonition of imminent threat.

Suddenly, in the river’s midst, disaster struck.

The water beneath him burst open and a fist, formed from droplets, shot toward his face.

"I was waiting for you!" Xia Zheng was not surprised; he had anticipated just such an attack. Instantly, he shaped his mental power into a spear and thrust it at the watery fist.

The fist exploded into droplets, but did not vanish. Instead, it reformed instantly into a massive hammer, which crashed down onto his spear. The impact shattered the psychic weapon and sent a burning pain through Xia Zheng’s chest—he had suffered internal injuries.

But he was no novice. Realizing his opponent’s strength exceeded his own, he knew a direct confrontation was futile. He sprang high, catapulting toward the far bank.

"Trying to run? Not so easy!" a man’s voice shouted. The river erupted, forming a spectacular curtain of rain. Under its master’s control, the rain condensed into towering walls, hemming Xia Zheng in.

With a wave of psychic power, Xia Zheng gathered the surrounding droplets into a projectile and launched it like a cannonball.

Boom!

The projectile smashed into a rain-wall, detonating in a violent clash. Both dissolved into mist, leaving a gaping hole.

In a flash, Xia Zheng unfurled his psychic wings, shot through the breach, and fled into the distance, tossing back a final retort: "Since you attack without cause and seek my life, we are enemies to the death."

With that, his form dissolved into a streak of light and vanished into the woods across the river.

Moments later, a figure coalesced from drops upon the river’s surface—a man who had mingled earlier among the hunters at the periphery of the land of death.

He raised his head, revealing a long, square face, heavy stubble, and features shadowed with cold malice.

"So, a mind-wielder—so young, yet not a novice. When did such a formidable youth appear? A new talent from the military, perhaps? Heh... All the better. The greater the talent, the more I enjoy the hunt. You're not the first prodigy to die at my hands. Threaten me, will you? You're still too green."

With a sneer, he melted back into droplets and slipped into the river, pursuing Xia Zheng's trail.

Once within the woods, Xia Zheng felt waves of dizziness—the telltale sign of mental exhaustion. But he dared not rest; his pursuer would not relent so easily.

"Damn, I need a place to recover my energy." Although he possessed the devouring attribute of the Soul Refining Technique, there was no suitable target at hand.

He slowed his pace, finally stopping to rest against an ancient tree, physical fatigue secondary to the deeper weariness within.

"Wait, I remember my master once mentioned a secret method in the Spirit-Forging Manual—something about recuperating through sleep, concealing one's presence while restoring psychic power and healing injuries."

He rummaged through his pack, producing the Spirit-Forging Manual.

Soon, he found the sleeping technique—Tortoise Breathing. By assuming a specific posture, one could almost completely conceal bodily presence, restore psychic power, and heal wounds—a unique support method.

After a quick read-through, Xia Zheng memorized the incantation and grasped its essentials. Although the Spirit-Forging Manual and Soul Refining Technique now seemed rudimentary and no longer satisfied his growing ambitions, they were all he had for now.

Suddenly, his senses tingled with imminent danger.

"Kid... You can run, but you can't hide..." The man's voice echoed through the woods. Xia Zheng hurriedly stowed the manual and took off again. After a few minutes of rest, his stamina and energy had somewhat recovered.

This time, he deliberately searched for a hiding place, but finding none suitable, concentrated his remaining strength to sharpen a wooden stake and dig a burrow into the mountainside.

He crawled inside and concealed the entrance with psychic power. Lying down, he pressed his chest to the earth and arched his legs upward until his feet nearly touched his head, curling into a ball. Grasping his ankles, he began to recite the Tortoise Breathing incantation.

Under the spell’s working, his psychic power swiftly induced a trance, his presence fading into the ambient energy. His heartbeat slowed, body temperature dropped, and his breathing became nearly imperceptible.

After a minute, his heart beat less than ten times, his skin icy as stone, his breath nearly ceased. Compared to the creatures around him, he was as inert as any lifeless object. The surrounding earth and leaves quickly covered him, leaving behind only a lump of dirt indistinguishable from an ordinary stone.

In this deep sleep, Xia Zheng’s wounds began to heal, and his mental energy slowly returned.

A hundred meters outside the burrow, a watery slide formed, depositing the man's figure onto the ground.

"Hmm, the kid's aura has vanished. Interesting," he muttered, sniffing around, extending his senses, but found nothing. The mystery only deepened his curiosity.

"Could he really not be here?" Doubt gnawed at him, for he could not explain Xia Zheng’s sudden disappearance. Yet he felt certain the boy, on the brink of collapse, could not have fled far.

"He must be hiding close by—how naive. I've become a fiend through years of bloodshed; my experience in rooting out the concealed is unmatched. Even if you burrow into the earth, I'll dig you out."

With that, he transformed into countless droplets, spinning into round water spheres like steel marbles.

The spheres burst apart, thousands of tiny droplets spreading in all directions, seeping into the ground and air, transforming into myriad miniature scouts, launching a thorough and relentless search of the entire area.