Black Boar Forest was nothing new to Ning. At this point, he knew its terrain quite well. It was his primary hunting ground for one main reason:

  No Foundation-Building beasts.

  Any monster that reached that level was instantly eliminated by the sect’s patrol forces. Overkill? Maybe.

  But this was standard practice in the Eastern Wilderness. Compared to the Western Desert, Northern Sea, Central Plains, or even the Southern Miasma Marshlands, the Eastern Wilderness was the region most abundant in monsters.

  In truth, humans and monster beasts had contended for hegemony over this land for countless generations. Only because the established sects regularly cleared their surroundings did the area seem peaceful.

  A Golden Core sect simply couldn’t allow a Foundation Beast to run wild. If one escaped deeper into monster territory and evolved further, it would eventually return to take revenge, or worse, lead a horde.

  But all of that was far above Ning’s pay grade.

  Right now, he cared only about the black boar snorting ten meters in front of him.

  This one was huge, easily a hundred kilos, its muscles packed like iron plates beneath its bristled hide. Its tusks curved outward, thick and stained from digging up spirit herbs… or other animals.

  Ning crouched behind a tree root and reached for his bow. His Turtle Breathing was running at full strength as he converged his qi.

  Hunting a black boar was never easy.

  They had three major strengths:

  Thick hide, mortal weapons barely scratched them.

  Ridiculous vitality, boars were basically tanks with legs.

  Explosive aggression, the moment they were injured, they stopped thinking and only charged.

  The first rule of hunting black boars was simple:

  Never let them charge.

  Ning pulled the bowstring back to his cheek, feeling the tension ripple through his arms. His eyes narrowed.

  The ear was the boar’s weak point. Thin skin, close to the brain.

  He exhaled softly and released.

  The arrow hissed through the air.

  It was slightly off-course, striking the ear sideways, but it still drew blood.

  Ning didn’t waste time regretting the missed kill-shot. He swiftly nocked another arrow, just as the beast went delirious with pain.

  This time, he aimed for the leg joint. Crippling mobility first, the only reliable strategy.

  Thwack!

  The arrow struck true. The boar stumbled, its hind leg buckling. But it didn’t fall. Instead, it roared and tried to charge anyway, tearing up soil and sending leaves flying.

  Then the poison struck.

  Poison Lily venom was more paralytic than lethal. Quick-acting and especially effective against black boars who relied on momentum to build strength.

  Ning didn’t emerge immediately. Only after triple-tapping the beast did he finally step out of hiding.

  “A black boar equivalent to a third-stage Qi cultivator. It’ll fetch a pretty good price.” Ning smiled.

  Monster beasts were filled with treasure. Their skin could be made into talisman leather, their bones into spiritual weapons, their tusks into ornaments. Even their flesh and blood were valuable for spiritual cooking, formations, and alchemy.

  Of course, the inverse was also true. Monster beasts benefited greatly from devouring humans. Their evolutionary path relied on awakening bloodlines and consuming spiritual energy. To a beast, a cultivator was just a walking qi-pack.

  Humans and monsters had been exploiting each other since ancient times.

  Higher-tier black boars existed, but Ning made it a point to fight only weaker ones like those at the third stage.

  Was it dirty?

  Tell that to beasts with thick hide, insane vitality, and instincts honed to kill. A one-on-one fight between a cultivator and a beast was always risky. Early-stage cultivators, especially, were outclassed by monster physiques.

  There were solutions, of course, besides the “hundred professions” of the immortal path; cultivators often formed hunting teams.

  He’d considered joining one himself, but ultimately chose not to.

  The reason was simple. As a wise old man once said, “King of the Ants… You truly have no idea. You know nothing of the bottomless malice within the human heart.”

  In groups, treasures caused conflicts. Spoils caused conflict. Stupidity caused conflict. Spoiled teammates, arrogant teammates, too many variables.

  So Ning had no choice but to pick weaker beasts instead. It wasn’t his fault, really.

  Even then, he took precautions: masking his scent with leaves, obscuring his face, positioning himself safely within the trees. He shot from different angles, ensuring distance and unpredictability. Beasts weren’t dumb; they followed the direction of arrows.

  Even if one located him, Ning could simply flee. Even if the beast was faster, the poison would slow it down.

  With every hunt, Ning prepared layers of strategy, methodically stalking and then executing his prey. If it were Xiao Fan, Ning felt the guy would probably charge head-on, almost die, then suddenly awaken a hidden power and kill it with one blow.

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  After harvesting the spoils, Ning ventured deeper into the forest for another target.

  That was when he heard it.

  “Trash, do you know who you’ve offended?”

  Just hearing that line was enough for Ning to guess the situation. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

  …

  Ning concealed himself instantly, relying on his camouflage. Lowering his presence, he observed the scene unfolding.

  Three people surrounded a single figure.

  And who else could it be but their resident protagonist, Xiao Fan?

  With his enhanced hearing, Ning caught snippets of conversation.

  “You ignorant trash, do you know who you’ve offended?” the tall leader barked.

  Xiao Fan, looking dazed and confused, croaked, “Who… are you guys?”

  “It doesn’t matter who we are,” the leader sneered. “You brought this upon yourself by disrespecting your senior brother. You should’ve stayed away from Senior Sister Xiao.”

  Another disciple spat, “Exactly! You’re just a toad trying to eat swan meat! Know your place, trash!”

  Ning was stunned.

  Sent to assassinate someone, yet they exposed the entire motive out loud.

  One need not fear competent enemies, only incompetent allies. It seems going solo was the right choice.

  Xiao Fan seemed to realize the same thing. His eyes widened, then blazed with overwhelming fury. His hands trembled, not with fear, but rage.

  “XIAO HONG!!!”

  His roar thundered across the forest, sending birds scattering. Even the assassins staggered under his killing intent.

  The leader swallowed hard but forced a shout: “W-What are you afraid of?! He’s alone! Kill him!”

  The other two steadied themselves and charged.

  Xiao Fan’s lips curled in a cold, serene smile. A suffocating pressure rippled outward.

  Then, he moved.

  What followed wasn’t a fight.

  It was a slaughter.

  Even though all three were mid-stage Qi Condensation, they were like mortal villagers charging a tiger.

  The first swordsman struck. Xiao Fan shifted a mere half inch, the smallest motion, yet it ruined the man’s stance. Xiao Fan’s fist shot upward into the attacker’s wrist.

  Crack.

  The sword flew from numb fingers.

  Before the scream finished, Xiao Fan twisted and slammed his palm into the man’s sternum.

  Boom.

  The cultivator collapsed, dead before he understood how.

  Ning blinked.

  As expected of a Xianxia Protagonist, his battle instincts were terrifyingly sharp.

  The other two attacked simultaneously. Xiao Fan’s awareness sharpened; every sword angle, every flow of qi, every shift in footing entered his perception. He stepped between strikes with impossible fluidity, as if he’d practiced this sequence countless times.

  The second swordsman thrust.

  Xiao Fan deflected the blade with his fist.

  Ning’s eyes narrowed. Those gloves. Definitely a spiritual artifact.

  The man panicked, qi flaring along his sword, but Xiao Fan’s qi wrapped around the blade like a constricting serpent.

  A faint ringing.

  Then,

  Snap.

  The sword shattered cleanly.

  Xiao Fan’s elbow crashed into the man’s throat. He collapsed choking.

  The leader stumbled back, terrified.

  “H-How, ?! You’re just a low-”

  Xiao Fan vanished.

  No, he simply moved too fast.

  He reappeared behind the leader and struck his chest.

  The man flew into a tree, coughing blood.

  “D-Don’t kill me! It was Xiao Hong’s fault!”

  Xiao Fan appeared beside him. “His retribution will come. For now, you will suffice.”

  Just as Xiao Fan was about to deliver the final blow, the man suddenly shouted, “I know a treasure! Don’t kill me!”

  “Treasure?” Xiao Fan’s fist halted mid-strike at those words.

  The man nodded hurriedly, as if a single second of delay would doom him, which, honestly, wasn’t wrong. “If you go north of this forest, there’s a mid-stage boar. We found that in its lair, there’s a ripening Dragon Qi Grass.”

  “Dragon Qi Grass?” Both Xiao Fan and Ning were taken aback.

  Dragon Qi Grass was a rare first-rank magical herb. Not only was it extremely useful for body-refining cultivators, especially those practicing Heaven-Strengthening Body or Hundred-Treasure Body, it was also an enormous source of spiritual energy.

  Overall, it was one of the rare herbs effective for both the body-refining and qi-refining paths.

  “Are you sure?” Xiao Fan asked, clearly tempted.

  “Yes, yes!” The man nodded repeatedly. “I found it a few years ago, but it wasn’t ripe yet, so I waited. Now that it’s finally about to ripen… well, since a strong expert like you is here, the opportunity should obviously belong to you.” His face was twisted in pain even as he tried to flatter Xiao Fan.

  Ning could understand that pain. Imagine finding a treasure, waiting years for it to ripen, only to be forced to hand it over at the very last moment.

  “If what you say is true, then I can spare you,” Xiao Fan said.

  The man exhaled in visible relief.

  “Wait here. I’ll take care of this mess first, then we’ll go.”

  But the moment Xiao Fan turned his back as if to deal with the “mess,” the injured man’s eyes suddenly sharpened. He lunged forward, unleashing a fist technique at the seemingly unaware Xiao Fan.

  “Go DIE!”

  However, his ambush was pointless. Xiao Fan, as if already expecting it, slid aside effortlessly. With one punch he shattered the man’s ribcage, and with another he crushed his skull, killing him instantly.

  “They always fall for this trick,” Xiao Fan muttered, glancing at the corpse.

  From his hiding spot, Ning was stunned. He’d assumed the protagonist would naively spare the man, inevitably causing trouble later on.

  But instead, Xiao Fan had only pretended to lower his guard, baiting the man into attacking so he could kill him outright. This way, he eliminated future trouble and learned about a treasure.

  Xiao Fan was a bit different from Ning’s imagination.

  Killing three men wasn’t surprising, every Xianxia protagonist had at least thousands of lives on their hands eventually. What shocked Ning was the casual experience and acting skill Xiao Fan displayed.

  What came next was even more shocking.

  With practiced motions, Xiao Fan stripped the corpses of their belongings, used a fire spell to burn the bodies, and then sprinkled some kind of powder that dissolved the remaining bones. Watching those extremely familiar movements, Ning couldn’t help but think:

  So Xiao Fan was the Bay Forest Butcher all along.

  After finishing all that, Xiao Fan was about to leave when he suddenly stopped and scanned the surroundings.

  “I know you’re there. Come out.”

  Ning’s heart nearly stopped. His hand tightened around his talisman, but he forced himself to stay still, trusting his concealment.

  [Turtle Breathing: Great Accomplishment (12/400)]

  As his most-used martial art, Ning had reached the Great Accomplishment stage fairly quickly. At this level, he’d learned its ultimate application, Feigning Death. His qi dimmed, his heartbeat slowed, his breathing nearly vanished.

  Unless someone scanned with spiritual sense very precisely, he would remain undetected as long as he stayed still.

  It was this technique that allowed Ning to hunt in the forest. And the talisman in his hand, a first-tier Swift Wind Talisman he bought for forty spirit stones, was his last line of escape.

  Knowing Xiao Fan’s personality, Ning was sure this was only a bluff. If Xiao Fan had truly discovered him, he would have charged straight over to silence him. So this shout must be another bait.

  Xiao Fan had already proved himself to be a master baiter.

  Ning’s guess was right. After receiving no response, Xiao Fan muttered something about imagining things and walked away.

  Ning only crawled out five minutes after Xiao Fan was completely gone and his senses picked up no movement.

  “Dude’s terrifying.” Ning released a long, suppressed breath. Watching Xiao Fan kill was eye-opening, but watching him try to bait someone was even worse.

  Fortunately, Xiao Fan still fell victim to the classic cliché, sensing that something was off, but dismissing it a moment later.

  Still shaken, Ning resumed his task. He needed to find another black boar, he still had work to do.

  For the next minutes, he searched for traces of black boar. It was not a hard thing to do, since subtlety was not in the nature of the aggresive boar.

  It was then he felt a tremor in the ground and sensed movement.

  His intuition tingled.

  Xiao Fan.

  “So fast?” Ning muttered. It hadn’t even been half an hour, and Xiao Fan was already securing the treasure.

  Ning climbed a tree and spotted him, running at full speed, clutching something glowing. Xiao Fan’s face was tense, a talisman stuck to his leg, his body evaporating red qi as he pushed himself to flee as fast as possible.

  Behind him charged a massive black boar, easily a thousand pounds, shattering trees in its pursuit.

  Not only that, Ning sensed its qi.

  That lackey had lied. The beast wasn’t mid-stage.

  It was late-stage… and furious.

  Ning’s eyes drifted to the boar’s lair.

  Then to the beast chasing Xiao Fan far away from it.

  Well, well, well… look what do we have here.

  ...

  Thanks for reading~