The mountain wind howled like ghosts wailing, snapping many tree branches and sweeping up snow from the forest floor, mixing it with the heavy, falling snowflakes from the night sky. The world was a vast stretch of white.
Qin Ming walked alone through the wind and snow, arriving at the foot of the mountain where the patrol team had set up camp. He decided to use the bow and arrows he had seized. Though he still saw it as a "soft bow," the weapons of the newly reborn were far superior to the iron-limbed bow he had used before.
The fierce snowstorm lashed at his face, forcing him to squint. He changed out of his thicker warm clothing and, after donning armor, put on a thinner outer layer. He buried the bow, arrows, and his bundle in a snow cave, weighed them down with heavy rocks, then took the four iron spears from the patrollers and started climbing the mountain.
Qin Ming advanced silently, gradually approaching the summit, just tens of meters from a flat area.
If not for the strong wind and heavy snow, the golden mastiff—massive as a tiger—would likely have already smelled the presence of a stranger. Even so, it sensed something and perked up its ears, which were marked with golden patterns.
In one of the larger wooden cabins, firelight flickered. Shadows of several people appeared in the windows. In this bitter cold, they were drinking and feasting on yak meat simmering in a copper pot over a charcoal fire, the rich aroma thick in the air.
"The Fire Spring in the Blood Bamboo Forest is about to go out. That's the best time to deal with those spiritual beasts. We need to plan ahead..."
The words drifted on the wind. Qin Ming wanted to hear more. Some patrollers had set their sights on a spiritual creature in the mountain for a second rebirth. Unfortunately, he could listen no longer, as the golden mastiff had emerged from its shelter and was looking in his direction, about to bark.
Qin Ming aimed at the window and loosed an arrow at the burliest man inside. Iron arrows shot through the night like lightning, all piercing the wooden cabin with sharp whistles.
Someone inside gave a muffled grunt. All the shadows inside immediately dropped to the floor. Then the cabin's doors and windows burst open, and several figures charged out, shielding themselves with tables and doors. They quickly took cover behind trees and rocks, scanning for the attacker with sharp eyes.
The golden mastiff barked madly, its roars scattering the snow in front of it. Its enormous body exploded with terrifying power as it charged ferociously toward Qin Ming.
Qin Ming ignored the mutated mastiff for now. The iron arrows rained down like a storm, all targeting a single person—Fu Entao.
He didn't care about the other patrollers. The real threat was the one who had undergone a second rebirth. Wounding him would mean far more than taking out a few lesser foes.
Unfortunately, Fu Entao was only hit once, and the wound was minor. His special armor had absorbed most of the impact, and the arrow only penetrated his body about half an inch. After that, Fu Entao swept aside most of the arrows with his longsword and used trees as cover to close in quickly.
Judging by the strength of the arrows, Fu Entao concluded his opponent had not yet undergone a second rebirth. He assumed this wasn't someone too difficult to deal with. But it wasn't that Qin Ming lacked strength; it was that the patroller's bow couldn't withstand his thousand-pound force and eventually snapped in his hands.
The mutated mastiff, its body striped in gold and black, leapt at him, maw wide open, revealing sharp, frost-coated fangs. Its roar shook the forest.
Suddenly, its massive body froze midair. Its roar was cut short as an iron spear flew at terrifying speed, pierced its skull, and sprayed blood into the snow. Its fierce eyes instantly dimmed.
Undeniably a strong mutant beast—one that could trouble even a rebirther—but Qin Ming took it out with a single spear. Instant kill. With a thud, the mastiff fell five meters in front of him. From afar, Feng Yian saw the golden mastiff fall and cried out in anguish, "Jin Zi!"
A surge of fury rose in Qin Ming's heart. In this man's eyes, the lives of villagers outside the mountain weren't even worth that of a vicious dog. And now he screamed for it?
Qin Ming's right arm swung powerfully, hurling another spear through the storm, hurtling toward Feng Yian with a chilling whoosh.
Feng Yian, a bearded, second-rebirther candidate, reacted swiftly. His strong body shifted sideways, swinging his longsword in a show of defiance to intercept the oncoming spear.
With a shriek of metal and a spray of sparks, Feng Yian's arm went numb, his hand trembling, nearly dropping his sword. He was shocked. How powerful was that throw? The spear grazed him and smashed through a thick wooden cabin door behind.
At that moment, the nearly two-meter-tall Fu Entao stomped through the snow, kicking up waves as he charged. He was now less than ten meters away.
But waiting for him was a patroller's iron spear, shooting out like a venomous flood dragon through the darkness.
As someone who had undergone a second rebirth, Fu Entao's senses were razor-sharp. He tracked the spear's trajectory.
Unwilling to waste energy, his massive body shifted slightly, dodging it easily without stopping his charge. But right behind him was another patroller, trailing by about ten meters. He became the perfect second target.
Qin Ming had planned this. If Fu Entao blocked the spear, fine. If he dodged, it would hit the one behind. That rear patroller had no chance to evade. The distance was too short, and Fu Entao had blocked his view.
"Aaagh—!" A scream rang out. The iron spear pierced his chest, breaking through his armor and sending shattered fragments flying. But the impact altered the spear's trajectory slightly.
Thud—the spear nailed the man to a tree as thick as a barrel. Blood streamed down the shaft, staining the snow. He writhed in agony, clearly not long for this world.
Behind him, Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng felt a chill down their spines, as if they themselves had been impaled. They instinctively stepped back.
Fu Entao, knowing what had happened, wore a grim expression. Ten meters was a mere leap for him. His curly black hair blew wildly in the wind, his fur cloak flapping. At nearly two meters tall, his specially made longsword was wide and razor-sharp. He slashed down, powerful enough to split mountains.
Qin Ming had stood like a stone, but now he moved like lightning, fast and fierce. A slight sidestep let him evade the terrifying blade. His left hand struck the sword's body with the last iron spear, diverting its path.
Fu Entao was startled. This wasn't someone he could easily crush. Could he also be second-reborn? He pressed down, trying to push away the spear and continue his assault, but met powerful resistance.
Qin Ming's left hand clashed with the sword, sparks flying as he forced it aside. Then he charged in, swinging his machete at Fu Entao's exposed chest.
Fu Entao's pupils contracted. His heavy sword hadn't overcome the spear. For the first time, he felt outmatched. His left arm, protected by a black-gold bracer engraved with mountain beast runes, came up just in time. Clang!—a harsh metallic clash echoed as he blocked the blow.
Using the momentum, Fu Entao retreated like a thunderstorm, kicking up snow and breaking away from the passive situation. He shook his numb arm. A crack had appeared in the bracer, not from the blade's sharpness, but the sheer force behind it.
He had misjudged Qin Ming's strength. Planning to finish him quickly had backfired. Now, he scrutinized the youth more carefully.
Qin Ming glanced at his machete. It was damaged, its edge chipped. Though made of refined iron, it couldn't match patrol-grade weapons. He knew he was stronger, but slightly slower. Second-rebirthers favored agility and flexibility. He had to press close and force a melee to deny his opponent the chance to disengage and flee.
"Who are you? Why are you targeting us?" Fu Entao asked. Earlier, seeing the youthful face, he'd assumed it was just a hot-blooded kid, an easy prey for interrogation. But now, faced with such strength, he grew cautious, even wary. Could this be a noble from Chixia City? But his clothes didn't match.
Qin Ming didn't answer. His iron spear pointed forward, machete raised, advancing step by step—calm, collected, exuding presence despite his youth.
Fu Entao frowned, increasingly suspicious of his identity.
As Qin Ming emerged from the dark woods near the Fire Spring, Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng recognized him. They had already thought his silhouette seemed familiar. Now, bathed in firelight, his face became clear, and they were stunned.
"You're... Qin Ming, from Shuangshu Village?!" Feng Yian said in disbelief. He had seen the boy several times. Wasn't he just newly reborn?
Qin Ming did not answer, stepping forward decisively, then suddenly accelerating. His spear lashed out like a silver serpent transforming into a dragon, slicing through the snowstorm, scattering snow in all directions.
"Surround him—don't let him escape! I want him alive!" Fu Entao shouted as he slashed, trying to boost morale. His gaze was icy, feigning confidence to prevent Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng from losing heart.
"Join in! Let's end this quickly!" another burly patroller called, slowly approaching Qin Ming with his blade, not to rush into battle, but to apply pressure.
Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng followed, blocking off escape routes, ready to strike and sway the tide.
The clash between Qin Ming and Fu Entao was ferocious. The iron spear danced like a dragon or serpent, while the blade slashes flared like lightning in a storm, expanding the battleground.
Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng turned pale. Could the captain suppress this youth named Qin Ming?
Qin Ming and Fu Entao fought from the Fire Spring back into the forest, with the three others cautiously following to contain him. As they charged through the woods, once-pristine trees suddenly cracked and fell. Snow-covered branches rained down, and even large trunks crashed to the ground.
Suddenly, a silver-white figure leapt from a tree in the darkness, aiming to ambush Qin Ming. He was locked in combat with Fu Entao, his back turned. The patrol's snow ape, long hidden, had launched a surprise aerial attack.
This mutated creature could tear through beasts with its claws. Now it dove viciously at Qin Ming's neck, feral and fast. But Qin Ming had long known the ape was there. Upon entering the mountain, he'd secretly located all threats and had been on guard the entire time. His footwork flared like the wind—agile and precise—as he dodged the pounce. He then swung his machete backhanded.
Slash! With a sickening sound, the machete bisected the savage snow ape midair!
Blood splattered as it howled, its two halves thudding into the snow, and then, it was still.