After several Rank 3 Gu Masters had jointly completed the alteration of the first crucial land vein, the group began to gather up their Gu materials with cold, indifferent expressions, preparing to hurry to the next node.
"You lords have worked hard! Leave it to me! Let this lowly one handle rough work like this!"
In the corner, the Wild Dog still wore that exceedingly lowly manner.
Seeing this, he hurriedly trotted forward, and with nimble hands and feet, hefted all those heavy odds and ends onto his own back in one go.
That enormous bundle instantly pressed his waist into a bend, so that the whole of him looked just like an old tortoise trudging forward under a heavy load.
Yet upon that mud-caked face of his, an ingratiating smile remained crammed in place.
Those lofty Rank 3 Gu Masters paid him no mind at all — they could not even be bothered to lift an eyelid.
They merely treated this "Wild Dog" as an exceedingly convenient menial.
They turned and walked onward.
Watching the backs of the several people ahead striding off with great, sweeping steps, the Wild Dog lowered his head, a trace of exhaustion flitting through the depths of his eyes, and in his heart he could not help but curse under his breath.
"Boss Lin, oh, Boss Lin…"
Feeling the weight on his back that seemed about to snap his spine, the Wild Dog sighed inwardly:
"This life of mine — I count it as fully repaid to you now."
"From this day forward, the two of us are square, owing each other nothing…"
Though he grumbled thus in his heart, seeing that the several lords ahead had already walked far off, he did not dare tarry in the slightest, and hurriedly, hefting that mountainous pile of odds and ends, trotted panting after them.
"Lord! Wait for this lowly one!"
"Aiyo, please slow down…"
As the Wild Dog's lowly cries gradually faded into the depths of the dense forest, within this valley that had just been artificially altered, that water vein — forcibly severed and rerouted — was, bit by bit, imperceptibly changing the fragile ecology all around.
One beast herd after another, herds that had originally been unrelated to each other and each dwelling in peace, began to grow ever more restless and violent as their territories were encroached upon, their water sources cut off, and their food continuously squeezed.
They paced and charged about restlessly among the trees, and even came to blows over the scant remaining living space.
For now, it seemed, this was still nothing more than the most ordinary of beast-herd disturbances — the kind that occurred every single day within the boundless, endless Hundred Thousand Great Mountains.
But no one knew.
A terrifying storm, one great enough to sweep across the whole of Black Wind Ridge, was already slowly gathering and taking shape in the deepest reaches of the mountains.
...
And directly ahead of this storm, the Black Wind Ridge battlefield had, at this moment, fallen into an exceedingly bizarre dead silence and calm.
Over the following few days, the White Bone and Black Blood camps — which had originally slaughtered ceaselessly within this meat-grinder every day — actually, as though by prior agreement and with exceeding tacit understanding, simultaneously furled their banners and silenced their drums.
On the White Bone Alliance's side.
Under the death order of the supreme commander Li Mang, those raiding squads, which had originally bitten at people everywhere like mad dogs, began to withdraw bit by bit from the frontal battlefield.
They retreated with exceeding finesse, without the panic of a rout, and without the flaws of a hasty flight.
Rather, in an exceedingly orderly, methodical fashion, they abandoned some of the peripheral resource points and temporary camps, slowly contracting the bulk of their core combat strength in the direction of their main base.
Their true aim, naturally, was not to admit defeat.
Rather, it was to clear space and avoid the main charging path of the beast herds before the artificially manufactured "beast tide" officially erupted!
And Black Blood Stockade's side, likewise abnormally, did not seize the chance to launch a large-scale pursuit.
Those two words Lin Mu had earlier thrown out in the secret chamber — beast tide.
Though it sounded outrageous, and had not received any substantive confirmation, this was already enough to make the deep-scheming Lin Cang enormously wary.
Better to believe it exists than to trust that it does not.
And so, Black Blood Stockade outwardly held its troops in place, while in secret it had already begun to operate at a furious pace.
Lin Cang spent a heavy sum to hire a small handful of Gu Masters exceedingly skilled in reconnaissance, and drew from within the clan a batch of the most experienced, most keenly-scented veteran hunters.
These people, like a great net cast out, launched an exceedingly covert, carpet-style investigation of the mountain ranges, the flow of water sources, and the beast-herd movements around Black Wind Ridge.
At the same same, the Punishment Hall's investigation into the clan's internal "mole" was also continuously deepening and closing its net in secret.
But now time was too pressing, and the intelligence they obtained was far too scant.
They did not know from which specific direction the beast tide would come. They did not know when this natural calamity would descend with a crash.
They did not even know just what heaven-defying means that old fox Li Mang had prepared to precisely draw such a vast beast herd, one with such varied habits, toward Black Blood Stockade.
So in the short term, Black Blood Stockade's upper echelons still discovered no substantive breakthrough whatsoever.
More important, and what most made Lin Cang feel his hands and feet were bound, was that he simply did not dare make the movements of his investigation too obvious!
The informant of whom Lin Mu spoke was currently their only hidden piece capable of spying upon the internal movements of the White Bone Alliance.
The moment Black Blood Stockade made a great show of guarding against the beast tide, it would be equivalent to telling Li Mang outright — that there was an exceedingly serious leak within the White Bone Alliance.
By that time, that fragile hidden piece would instantly be pulled out, and Black Blood Stockade would utterly become blind and deaf.
And so.
The White Bone Alliance was plainly retreating continuously, ceding vast swaths of tempting territory.
Yet Black Blood Stockade, as though facing a formidable enemy, guarded its ground stubbornly, not advancing a single step in pursuit.
The two sides thus, in exceedingly bizarre fashion, quieted down.
On the surface, all was calm and windless — even the smoke of the flames of war seemed to have been blown away by the autumn wind.
But in the dark, each harbored their own sinister designs, and killing intent surged madly beneath the ground like magma.
Everyone was silently, with all their might, gathering strength for that impending final great battle — one great enough to decide the life and death of the two clans.
...
And amid this outer contest of surging clouds and hidden currents, this suffocating game.
The very instigator who had triggered this storm of information — Lin Mu — had likewise not been idle.
On the second day, holding the token specially granted by the Patriarch, he stepped into the core region of Black Blood Stockade's Gu Storage Cave.
The collection of this core region was far beyond compare with the common, run-of-the-mill goods in the periphery.
Facing the rows upon rows of dazzling Gu worms upon the racks, exuding the tempting aura of Rank 2 or even Rank 3, Lin Mu's gaze was surprisingly calm.
He did not linger before those attack Gu worms of enormous might, nor did he take a second glance at those defensive or movement Gu that could preserve one's life.
Because, back when the war had only just begun and the military merit board was first announced, he had already, upon that list, fixed his eyes firmly upon one single Gu worm.
It was also the one and only thing, among the highest-grade "special-grant rewards" of the military merit board, that made Lin Mu feel boundlessly moved — moved enough to risk everything.
Rank 3 — the Crystal Corrosion Gu!
Lin Mu walked to a standalone stone platform in the deepest part of the secret cave, gazing at that strange Gu worm within the light film — its whole body a translucent, deep-blue hue.
This Gu worm, in the eyes of many Gu Masters who pursued slaughter, was simply a chicken rib.
It had no attack ability whatsoever; it could not help you kill enemies. It had no defensive effect whatsoever; it could not block blade or sword.
Its one and only function was that, once mobilized, it would secrete a special fluid that exceedingly slowly eroded the Gu Master's own aperture crystal membrane!
This caused the originally incomparably tough aperture walls to become, over a certain span of time, more fragile and thinner, and thus more easily broken through by Primeval Essence.
It would not, like the Relic Gu, directly provide pure Primeval Essence foundation out of thin air. It would not raise the aptitude that a Gu Master had long since been fated with.
Still less would it directly let a Rank 2 peak stage Gu Master advance to Rank 3 as easily as eating a meal or drinking water.
To forge iron, one's own body must be hard — whether one could in the end break through that fragile barrier still depended on whether the Gu Master's own accumulated Primeval Essence and foundation were deep and profound enough.
So for an ordinary Gu Master, this Crystal Corrosion Gu's cost-effectiveness was exceedingly low; it merely added those few faint slivers of hope for you when charging a barrier.
But.
For Lin Mu, this Gu worm's significance was entirely, utterly different!
In fact.
Lin Mu's brutal fight against the masked man beneath the moon that night — exposing his Rank 2 peak stage strength — had in itself been a life-preserving act forced upon him by circumstance.
But he had also decided to turn the situation to his advantage, to expose his identity justifiably and openly. And within this, aside from seeking a legitimate identity, a very large part of the reason was precisely this Crystal Corrosion Gu!
Since the exposure of his cultivation had already become a foregone conclusion, then this "exposure" absolutely must not be wasted in vain!
Through calculations like walking a tightrope, Lin Mu converted the price and risk he had paid into substantive strength that could truly fall into his own hands.
Because, in this world, only he alone knew.
In the deepest reaches of his apertures, there still slumbered — exceedingly quietly — another peerless, extraordinary Gu— the Rank 3 White Silver Relic Gu!
So long as he could, with the aid of this Crystal Corrosion Gu, successfully cross the threshold between Rank 2 and Rank 3, advancing to Rank 3 initial stage, then he could, in the instant of breakthrough, use that White Silver Relic Gu.
Rank 3 initial stage.
Directly leaping up to Rank 3 middle stage!
Crossing in a single step — that was the terrifying consecutive leap of two realms completed within an exceedingly short span of time!
In this moment of crisis, with a great chaos about to descend and even a Rank 4 Patriarch unable to control the overall situation, possessing the formidable combat strength of Rank 3 middle stage — that was the true absolute trump card that could preserve his life, and even flip the table, in the coming tempest!
Such an ultimate temptation was enough for Lin Mu to gamble everything.
"Of course, this breakthrough is by no means a sure thing."
Lin Mu took the Crystal Corrosion Gu out from the light film and gripped it in his palm, his gaze clear-headed and cold.
He himself understood exceedingly clearly that charging a major realm this time carried enormous risk.
Because, strictly speaking, his truly reaching Rank 2 peak stage had in fact been only a matter of a few days ago.
That layer of crystal membrane within his apertures, though it had been scoured, was still far from having reached the seasoned, mellow roundness ground out by long years.
Were he to follow the most secure conventional wisdom of the Gu path, he ought to have continued to settle his heart, spending several months to nourish his apertures inch by inch with painstaking, water-grinding effort, accumulating his foundation to the point where there was no more advancing to be had, and only then seeking an opportune moment to charge Rank 3.
But time was the thing Lin Mu most lacked. He could wait no longer.
Fortunately, Lin Mu still held in his hand an enormous advantage that an ordinary Rank 2 Gu Master simply could not reach.
The Four-Flavors Liquor Worm.
Because this supreme-grade support Gu could disregard the barriers of minor realms, refining his Primeval Essence ahead of time to a higher level, therefore, back before Lin Mu had even truly stepped into Rank 2 peak stage, the barrier within his apertures had already been enduring, day after day, the nourishment and scouring of "Rank 2 peak stage level" Primeval Essence.
In other words.
The time he had truly reached Rank 2 peak stage was indeed exceedingly brief.
But his aperture crystal membrane was not nearly as "young" and fragile as one might imagine.
Those days of primeval-refining meditation in the past — hidden away in that dim secret chamber, seemingly calm and dreary day after day — had in fact long since been accumulating, bit by bit, exceedingly solidly, a bottomless foundation for his breakthrough.
And now.
The right timing, the right terrain, the right people… had all, at this very moment, finally been assembled with exceeding perfection by Lin Mu!
"Since all is ready."
Within Lin Mu's pitch-black eyes, a resolve and fervor of succeed-or-die kindled.
"Then I will not prepare to wait any longer."