Chapter Nineteen: Through the Forest of Death

As he spoke, Master Jinghai pointed toward a towering tree near the distant mountains on the edge of the forest. The tree pierced the clouds, a striking landmark that must have been more than ten kilometers away. “There, do you see it?” he said. “That’s your destination. You must reach that tree within two hours. Anyone who fails to arrive in time will be eliminated. Are you ready?”

Suddenly, a tremulous voice rose from among the contestants.

“I can’t do this—I’m leaving. This forest is terrifying!”

“Yes, it’s too frightening. I’m going too.”

“I wanted to become Master Jinghai’s disciple, but no amount of lives is worth losing in there. Hey, wait up! I’m leaving with you.”

Just as Master Jinghai was about to announce the start, three contestants, unable to bear the ominous atmosphere of the forest, turned and fled down the path they’d come, withdrawing from the competition on the spot.

“A wise choice,” Master Jinghai remarked, watching the departing contestants. “Anyone with even a little spiritual sensitivity can sense the dangers lurking here.” He turned to the remaining group. “Is there anyone else who wishes to withdraw? If you want to leave, do it now—once you enter, there will be no turning back.”

“As Master says, only those who pass the trial are worthy of becoming his disciples.” The long-haired man, who had scored 180 points in the spiritual power test earlier, stepped forward. His face was marked with several deep, obvious scars crossing his brows and cheeks—a testament to the harsh training and ordeals he’d endured. He was clearly not someone to be trifled with.

Beside him, a monk also stepped out. “That’s right. Those half-hearted types had better leave while they can, or Master will have to clean up after them.” This monk was the one Master Jinghai had praised earlier for enveloping his entire body with spiritual energy. Hearing the long-haired man call Master Jinghai “Master” so casually, the monk was slightly displeased—after all, the selection wasn’t even over yet, and this guy was already in a rush to claim a teacher. Shameless, he thought. So he quickly spoke up as well, both to assert himself and to intimidate the remaining contestants.

“I want to take the challenge as well!” Hearing these two address Master Jinghai as their master made Qin Xiaochuan feel even more annoyed. He stepped forward, facing Master Jinghai. “After seeing your great technique just now, there’s no way I’m backing out so easily.”

“You should call me ‘Master,’ you little rascal,” Master Jinghai reminded him sternly, displeased at being called ‘Granny.’

“Easy for you to say, you two are just hangers-on,” Qin Xiaochuan retorted, pointing at the long-haired man and the bald monk provocatively. “You think you can master Master Jinghai’s secrets so easily? I won’t let you get away with it. Are you two even human, you bastards? Maybe you’re some kind of monster in disguise—you certainly look the part! You don’t look like anything good...”

“...?”

“Hold on, Qin Xiaochuan, I’m joining too!” Zhang Yang raised his right hand and declared loudly, “If you’re going to challenge, then so am I!”

“Don’t butt in, idiot!” Qin Xiaochuan snapped at Zhang Yang, irritated at being interrupted just as he was about to expose the real identity of the two suspicious men. He glared at Zhang Yang, who was clearly provoking him. “Can’t you sense how terrifying it is in there, you fool?”

“I don’t care. If you’re going in, I’m going in.” Zhang Yang retorted, unwilling to show any weakness. Truthfully, after witnessing Master Jinghai’s demonstration, he was in awe, and all he could think about was learning the master’s secret arts so he could finally defeat Qin Xiaochuan and humiliate him in return for all the times he’d suffered at his hands. His original purpose for coming here was long forgotten.

“All right, get ready—begin!” Master Jinghai announced.

At his command, the contestants, eager not to be outdone, dashed into the forest in a rush. As soon as they entered, Master Jinghai clasped his hands behind his back and, with quick, light steps, sped to the front of the group.

“So fast!” exclaimed Qin Xiaochuan, astonished at Master Jinghai’s speed. It was nearly impossible to believe that someone of such advanced age could move so swiftly; ‘fleet as the wind’ hardly did him justice. In the blink of an eye, Master Jinghai had disappeared from view.

‘Whatever, a straight line should be the shortest distance,’ Qin Xiaochuan thought, fixing his eyes on the towering tree in the distance. Ignoring everything else, he set off directly toward it. There was no path in the forest—plants arched up from the ground, some almost waist-high. Thick moss blanketed the dangling vines, and poisonous snakes of various colors coiled among them, flicking out red tongues as if searching for prey.

‘There’s practically no way through,’ Qin Xiaochuan muttered to himself as he pushed through the undergrowth, stumbling forward. Ducking beneath the massive root of an ancient tree, he emerged onto a broad patch of open grass. Here, there was hardly any undergrowth.

‘Strange, it’s so clean here,’ Qin Xiaochuan mused, puzzled by the clear ground. But time was short—he had only two hours to reach the tree, and an hour had already passed since the start. Glancing at his watch, he decided to take his chances and dashed across the grass, not caring whether there were hidden traps ahead. The moment his foot touched the grass, he sensed something was wrong.

‘Damn, it’s a pond!’ The ground gave way beneath him, and Qin Xiaochuan plunged headfirst into the lush, grass-covered earth. Floundering in the water, he realized the pond was deep—his feet found no bottom. The water was pitch-black and impenetrable. Qin Xiaochuan had always been uneasy around water—ponds, lakes, the sea—especially in deep, dark places where anything might lurk beneath. It was all too easy to imagine a monstrous hand reaching up to drag him down or some terrifying creature biting at him from below. What a miserable way that would be to die.

Shaking off the thought, he broke the surface and began swimming toward the far shore, over a hundred meters away. Seeing the vast, oily expanse of “grassland” around him, he didn’t bother climbing out and circling around—his clothes were already soaked, so he might as well swim straight across. As he swam, he prayed silently: ‘Buddha, Mother, please protect me. Don’t let any monsters appear in this water. Please let me reach the other side safely. Buddha, Mother, Amitabha, God bless me—oh my God...’

But fate has a way of bringing about exactly what you most fear. As Qin Xiaochuan swam with all his might, a sudden splashing behind him signaled something pursuing him. He turned and saw a massive dorsal fin break the surface, like the fin of some prehistoric dinosaur—utterly terrifying.

Seeing the monster behind him, Qin Xiaochuan shrieked and frantically swam for the shore. Fortunately, he was close. Feeling the muddy bottom beneath his feet, he scrambled onto land and bolted into the depths of the forest.

He ran behind a tree and glanced back, just in time to see a gigantic crocodile lumbering out of the water. It had a dinosaur-like dorsal fin and waddled as it walked. Whether it was a mutant or some kind of atavistic throwback, Qin Xiaochuan had no idea. All he knew was that it was enormous—its gaping jaws could have swallowed him whole.

Watching the monstrous crocodile haul itself onto the bank, Qin Xiaochuan swallowed hard and backed away before turning and running for his life. As he fled, he muttered, ‘Damn it, never mind spiritual bullets—even a machine gun wouldn’t take down that thing! What the hell is it? It looks horrifying. Run, just don’t let it catch up to me—help!’

He ran without knowing how far, then glanced back to see that the monster hadn’t pursued him. Breathing a sigh of relief, he paused beneath a large tree, chest heaving from his desperate flight.

He had just caught his breath and was about to move on when a sharp, grating sound—like a rat gnawing wood—came from above. “Heh heh! Food at last, and I’m just hungry! Heh heh…”

Alarmed by the chilling voice overhead, Qin Xiaochuan instinctively looked up. In that instant, a shadow flashed past, slicing two thin cuts across his cheek. Blood trickled down immediately—something had attacked him.

Wiping the blood from his face, Qin Xiaochuan scanned his surroundings warily, spotting nothing. Then he looked up into the branches about ten meters overhead. There, hanging upside down, was a huge bat. It had drunk so much blood it seemed to have developed intelligence, for its face had taken on almost human features—except for its pointed ears and the two fangs protruding over its lips. Staring hungrily at the human below, drool dripped from its mouth; clearly, it hadn’t tasted human blood in a long, long time.