As I advanced deeper into the forest, the sun sank toward the horizon, its light filtered into fractured beams by the towering trees. Traversing the Star Dou Great Forest consumed time at an alarming rate. Every step required precise control—one lapse of concentration could invite death.
I spent the night resting inside an abandoned cave. Judging by the scattered human belongings left behind, the soul beast that once occupied it had been killed by a soul master not long ago.
At dawn, I resumed my journey toward the middle-ring region of the Star Dou Great Forest. The difference was immediately apparent. In the outer areas, one-thousand-year soul beasts had been common, but here their numbers dropped sharply. Instead, soul beasts moved in organized groups, each territory dominated by a leader that had crossed the ten-thousand-year threshold, while the rest of the group usually consisted of one-thousand-year beasts.
Ahead of me, a herd of Starlight Deer advanced in orderly formation. Their leader's aura alone was enough to deter most intruders.
I adjusted my route toward the eastern side of the forest, where soul beasts with fire and related attributes were more prevalent. This region was rich in mineral caves, which attracted many mineral-devouring soul beasts. Golden Bears were especially common here.
As I approached the outer edge of the eastern region, the terrain gradually transformed into a sand valley—an area dominated by loose sand, ideal for scorpion- and snake-type soul beasts. I advanced steadily and cautiously, suppressing my presence to the lowest possible level.
Upon entering the sand valley, I discovered several space soul guides scattered near the remains of dead soul masters. Most appeared to belong to civilian soul masters without powerful backing. After their deaths, no one had come to retrieve their bodies.
From the soul guides, I collected a total of 57,800 gold coins, as well as a left leg soul bone from a 3,500-year Red Poison Scale Toad. The soul bone was useless to me—and equally incompatible with Rin and my subordinates. I would either exchange it for a more suitable soul bone or use it as a bargaining chip in the future.
As I finished sorting through the items, my attention snapped forward.
By the time I reached this region, my mind had already narrowed my options.
My target soul beasts were limited to three: the Three-Headed Golden Poison Snake, the Two-Headed Golden Dragon Snake, and the Golden Sword Plant. For my Thousand Demon Sword martial spirit, a gold-attribute soul ring was mandatory. Space attributes were secondary, but highly desirable.
I halted my movement the moment I sensed fluctuating soul power ahead.
Lowering my presence, I climbed a sand dune and concealed myself completely.
Below me, the sand churned violently.
A Sandstorm Scorpion erupted from beneath the ground, its armored carapace grinding against the shifting terrain. Opposite it, coiled in a half-circle, was a Two-Headed Golden Dragon Snake. Each of its scales reflected a dull golden light, thick and layered like forged metal. Its aura was oppressive—somewhere between seventeen thousand and twenty-five thousand years of cultivation.
Barely within acceptable range, I calculated coldly. But the mutation compensates.
The scorpion struck first.
Its tail slammed into the sand, soul power surging outward. In an instant, the ground erupted into a spiraling sandstorm, razor-sharp grains infused with corrosive black poison. The storm expanded rapidly, devouring everything in its path.
The snake did not retreat.
One head reared back and exhaled a column of flame. The fire burned a deep gold-red, instantly fusing sand into glass. Poison-laced grains vaporized on contact.
Fire attribute mutation confirmed, I noted calmly. Dominant head. Offensive focus.
While the first head clashed directly with the sandstorm, the second head remained unnaturally still. Its pupils narrowed as it slid low along the ground, using the chaos as cover.
The scorpion sensed danger and snapped its claws together, sending shockwaves through the sand to detect movement.
Too late.
The snake's second head struck from the blind spot.
Golden soul power condensed around its fangs, forming a jagged edge like molten metal. A faint green glow pulsed beneath the gold—venom so concentrated it distorted the air itself.
Steel-Piercing Golden Poison Fang.
The bite sank deep into the scorpion's abdomen. A sharp crack echoed as one of the scorpion's claws shattered under the force. Poison flooded its body in an instant.
The scorpion screeched and attempted to retreat, its sandstorm collapsing as its control wavered. It dug desperately into the sand, trying to burrow underground.
The snake surged forward.
Its thick tail slammed down, coiling around the scorpion with crushing force. Bone cracked. One head clamped onto the scorpion's remaining claw, snapping it cleanly, while the other seized its venomous tail, injecting even more poison to ensure complete paralysis.
The scorpion thrashed violently, unleashing one final surge of sand and poison. The storm flared briefly—
Then dissipated.
Five minutes, I estimated. The poison has reached the heart.
I began laying my trap.
Thin, nearly invisible threads of soul power extended from my fingertips, embedding themselves beneath the sand in a precise formation. Every line was measured. Every angle calculated.
The snake will not relax immediately, I reminded myself. Its alertness will peak for several minutes after the kill.
As predicted, the scorpion's movements slowed, then stopped entirely. Its body collapsed into the sand, lifeless.
The snake did not celebrate.
Both heads rose, scanning the surroundings in opposite directions. Its breathing was heavy, scales dulled by exhaustion, but its body remained coiled and tense—ready to strike at any moment.
Good, I thought coldly. A cautious beast survives longer.
The snake slowly absorbed residual soul power from the scorpion's corpse, its aura stabilizing bit by bit. It remained motionless, conserving energy—waiting.
Most soul masters would strike now, mistaking exhaustion for vulnerability.
That mistake was paid for with blood.
In the Star Dou Great Forest, survival was earned through paranoia. A beast that relaxed after victory was already dead—it simply hadn't realized it yet.
I tightened the final thread of my trap and settled back into stillness.
Now, I calculated, I wait.