Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Demonic Ants

“Elder brother, what are they doing?”
Li Ying asked in a hushed voice, a hint of curiosity in her tone.
Li Mu gestured toward the nearby statue of the Wolf Deity. “A sacrifice, hoping the gods will answer their wishes.”
Beneath the gaze of the Wolf Deity’s statue, the tribe appeared small and insignificant; in those godless eyes, there seemed to spill forth a profound and desolate sorrow.
“Mm,” Li Ying murmured, her gaze fixed on the figure. She stared for so long, almost as if lost in a trance, that only when Li Mu called her did she come back to herself.
“What is it, little sister?”
“I don’t know. I felt something strange, but never mind. Let’s go, brother.” Li Ying turned away, a trace of doubt lingering in her eyes.
Li Mu nodded, faintly unsettled but not dwelling on it. He called for Sun Qi and the others, and together they prepared to leave.
Just as Li Mu was about to depart, Akemu called several young men over, each carrying a round tray.
“Revered one, please accept our humble tribute,” Akemu intoned, kneeling and offering the tray before Li Mu. The others did the same, including the one in front of Li Ying.
Li Mu knew this was a tribal custom and chose not to disrupt it. He politely lifted the fur covering the tray. There lay three small, black, bird-egg-like beads, etched with swirling patterns.
“What are these?”
Akemu replied, “A gift from the Wolf Deity. Only the mightiest white wolves possess such beads within their bodies. Consuming them grants great strength. Our tribe has little else to offer, we beg the immortals to accept this gift.”
Li Mu was indeed puzzled, but Shen Bingxue laughed lightly, “Beast cores.”
This was Li Mu’s first time seeing such things, but he quickly understood. He picked one up. “Then I thank you, elder. I accept.”
Seeing Li Mu accept the gift, the others did likewise. Li Ying smiled sweetly and bowed to the young man holding the tray, making his face flush red.
Not all high-level spirit beasts possess beast cores. In second and lower tiers, it’s a rare chance, but for third tier and above, beast cores are common.

Beast cores can be consumed directly; ordinary folk who do so will quickly gain strength and vigor. However, cultivators usually refine them into pills, which greatly enhance one’s spiritual power and are extremely valuable. Without a special recipe, a good beast core combined with a few common ingredients can produce a decent pill, though the required flames and alchemical techniques are extremely difficult.
Akemu called for Muwu. “Immortal, previously at Stone Mountain—you will find several fine mounts there.”
Though the dark wolves were not quite as fine as the famed thousand-li steeds, they were well suited to running across these wild hills, swift as the wind, with barely any jostling for the rider.
The terrain was barren, covered in withered grass and whipped by flying sand. One had to marvel at how precious the Deepwood tribe’s homeland was—it was no wonder they were reluctant to leave.
After two days’ journey, a vast mountain range appeared on the horizon, crouched across the wolf plains. Upon seeing it, Muwu immediately pulled on the wolf’s reins and stopped.
He pointed at the mountains, his expression tinged with fear. “Immortals, this is as far as we go. Beyond lies great danger—no one in our tribe has ever crossed.”
Li Mu smiled and nodded. “Turn the wolves back. We’ll go on from here.” With that, the group dismounted and began to walk toward the mountains.
Muwu called after them, “Be careful, immortals! May the Wolf Deity watch over you!”
Li Mu raised a hand in farewell, but did not turn back. Instead, Li Ying turned and smiled, her sweetness making Muwu pause in place.
Stone Mountain was a fitting name.
Before them rose a mountain as if hewn by a saw, with several deep scars carving its face into sharp, perilous ridges.
“The spiritual energy here is far denser than outside, yet still not as abundant as one might expect—how odd.”
Li Mu felt the flow of energy for a moment, puzzled. If there were a spirit vein here, the mountains should be saturated with power, but the energy was oddly thin, not matching the terrain’s promise.
“Why is there a dark wave ahead?”
Shen Bingxue stood before Li Mu, pointing toward the mountains. Besides the spiritual energy, something else troubled her.
What could cause a dark wave in these mountains?
Li Mu focused his senses. A few miles away, a surge of darkness erupted from the slopes, racing toward them at incredible speed. Ahead of the wave, a horde of wild beasts fled in terror.
“To the flying shuttle—now!”

Li Mu’s eyes narrowed as he quickly grasped the situation, his expression shifting.
Everyone rushed onto the flying shuttle, rising several dozen feet to observe from above.
The dark wave soon revealed its true form: a massive swarm of fiendish ants.
“Fiend ants!”
Shen Bingxue trembled slightly, her face paling as she pushed the shuttle even higher.
These fiend ants, though weaker than even first-tier spirit beasts, were among the world’s most terrifying creatures—no living thing was safe from them. Their small bodies brimmed with deadly poison; a mere touch could numb flesh. A few ants were nothing, but tens of thousands, hundreds of millions—even the mightiest spiritual beasts would have no hope of escape.
The black cloud of ants rolled beneath them like a living tide, surging and falling.
At the vanguard were ants with dark wings, capable of brief flight even across the sandy expanse. Their speed was remarkable, making them the shock troops of the swarm. Next came a second wave—smaller ants, but armed with razor-sharp black forelimbs, catching the eye with their deadly sheen.
At the rear were the largest ants, with great wings that allowed them to fly for some time, though they were slow and unarmed. These were attended by many male ants—the guardians of the great ones, and the most formidable fighters of the swarm.
It was clear—they were migrating.
Soon, a multitude of nameless wild beasts were overtaken by the ants. As the black cloud passed, mere moments later all that remained of the beasts were their bare bones, which quickly vanished as well, leaving no trace behind.
“So terrifying!” Shen Bingxue could not help but turn pale, too shaken to look away.
Sun Qi pointed nearby. “Look!”
A sand serpent—a second-tier spirit beast, massive and crowned with fleshy ridges—stretched nearly thirty yards long, usually hidden beneath the wolf plains, striking down any who passed. Even for Li Mu, in the Foundation Building stage, such a beast would be a challenge. Yet here, its gigantic body was caught in the ant tide and in moments was reduced to a single whip-like bone, left exposed in the desolate wild.
The swarm of fiend ants took less than the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn to pass completely.
All that was left in their wake was utter devastation—not even the grass stems remained. Everything had been devoured.