As soon as Yan Mo spoke, Yuan Zhan immediately called out to everyone to prepare to enter the forest.
Because the forest was dense, and although the Maple Clan was there to look after them, there were quite a few children among the three hundred-plus people; one misstep could easily lead to them getting separated. The Maple Clan had warned them long ago that the Black Forest was fraught with danger—not only from wild beasts and venomous insects, but also from swamps, muddy pits, and hidden traps. After consulting with Yan Mo, Yuan Zhan ordered the group of over three hundred to split into several teams: women, children, and the wounded would walk in the center, while warriors formed the outer perimeter. They also tied themselves together with grass ropes wherever possible to prevent anyone from getting lost.
Just as everyone was busy forming groups and twisting grass ropes, Yan Mo, after examining the critically injured, frowned at Yuan Zhan and said, “Although it’s true that once we split up, we shouldn’t travel together anymore to avoid further conflicts later on, there are still so many people—and so many women and children. Even if they leave all the critically injured behind and take the horses with them, I still can’t help but worry. Cao Ting, He Tu, and Gan Yu are all on our side. If someone over there gets injured, sick, or poisoned, will the Old Priest be able to handle it? Might they abandon the wounded again?”
Yuan Zhan raised an eyebrow. Was his Priest really that compassionate? Or was he simply reluctant to see those who could be saved left behind?
Hearing this, the critically injured men left behind clenched their fists. Yan Mo’s words served as a stark reminder: some of them hadn’t chosen to stay, yet the Old Priest and his men had abandoned them there without so much as a word.
Lan Die and the other warriors, who had watched helplessly as their horses were led away, also heard Yan Mo’s concerns. But the first emotion to well up within them was rage; their teeth ground together with a sharp clatter.
Zheng and Lie, who were speaking with Yuan Zhan, felt a bit awkward. They hadn’t stopped Yuanji’s men from taking the horses, and they’d seen them leave the critically wounded behind, but because they still harbored some affection for Yuanji, they’d simply gone along with it.
As for Yan Mo’s concerns, the several warrior leaders were well aware that this was very likely to come true.
Lie took the opportunity to suggest to Yan Mo that they send someone to chase after those who had left and bring them back to join the group, but before he could speak, he heard Lord Mo let out a long sigh and say to Zhan, “A-Zhan, what do you think about asking the Lord of the Black Forest for help and asking the Maple Clan to look after them along the way?”
Zhen, Lie, and the others all looked at Yan Mo in surprise, yet at the same time, they didn’t find it strange at all that Lord Mo would say such a thing. Perhaps Lord Mo could be a bit aloof at times and didn’t speak much to those he didn’t know well, but his heart was truly, truly kind!
Yuan Zhan was very sharp—he’d practically figured out the true nature of his clan’s Lord Priest. The moment Yan Mo opened his mouth, Yuan Zhan already knew exactly what was coming next.
So, the man furrowed his brow deeply and snapped, his face twisted with displeasure, “On what grounds? We’ve already paid a heavy price just to get the Lord of the Black Forest to let us pass through the forest. If we make any more demands, who knows what kind of exchange they’ll force us into!”
Yuan Zhan’s voice boomed so loudly that it ensured all three hundred-plus people heard him clearly.
Those in the distance who hadn’t heard Yan Mo speak began asking each other what had happened upon hearing Yuan Zhan’s words. With Lan Die and others passing on the message, everyone soon knew exactly what was going on.
Some still held onto past feelings, while others felt they were the ones who had been abandoned—why should they have to look out for the people who had cast them aside now that they were reaping the benefits?
Of the three hundred-plus people present, the vast majority were unhappy. And emotions spread most easily in a dense crowd; when everyone was expressing anger, even those who had felt little resentment at first were stirred into feelings of bitterness and rage.
Yan Mo smiled inwardly—this brute finally showed a glimmer of redeeming quality. Outwardly, however, he spoke in a gentle tone, as if trying to soothe Yuan Zhan’s fury: “We’ve already brought them this far; we can’t just give up now.”
“They’re the ones who wanted to leave! They were the ones who abandoned us first—it wasn’t us who left them!” Yuan Zhan snapped angrily.
“The Chief is absolutely right!” A murmur of support gradually rose from the crowd, with many warriors and women shouting, “Why should we care about them? Let’s just go our own way!”
“Exactly! If the tables were turned, they wouldn’t give a damn about us!”
“Lord Mo, they have the old priest. Don’t worry about them!”
“But those children are innocent…” Yan Mo secretly rubbed the goosebumps rising on his arms, looking troubled. After much deliberation, he said helplessly to everyone, “Then I’ll ask Lord Jiufeng to accompany them on the way. That way, at least they won’t have to worry about being ambushed by wild beasts.”
To reduce his Scum Points, he couldn’t just abandon those people. The Guide still hadn’t calculated the total points for saving the Yuanji Tribe—what did that mean?
Yan Mo speculated that either the Guide hadn’t yet acknowledged the Yuanji Tribe’s complete safety, or it was related to the promise he’d made to lead them to settle near Jiuyuan. He felt the latter was the more likely explanation.
Yuan Zhan wore a cold expression, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
“Lord Mo!” Many warriors now felt they’d made the right choice. Lord Mo was definitely more suited to be the high priest of a great tribe than the old priest. If Lord Mo showed such kindness even to people from other tribes, how much better must he treat his own tribe? With him around, the tribe would surely never again see so many people devoured, abandoned, or traded as slaves.
And… the warriors’ burning gazes fixed on Yuan Zhan’s face. What had Zhan once said? That his rapid leveling and growing strength were all thanks to Lord Mo?
If they followed Lord Mo, would they too have a chance to become Level 5… no! Even just Level 4 warriors would be enough!
In his heart, Hunter wholeheartedly agreed with Yan Mo’s proposal. This was far better than calling everyone back to travel together. After all, a massive rift had already formed between those who left and those who stayed. If they were to travel together again in the future, it would likely lead to all sorts of trouble—just as Lord Mo had said. Even if he didn’t fully grasp the meaning of “conflict,” he could grasp the general idea.
“Only Lord Mo would do something like this. If it were the Old Priest, I spit on him!” Xia Fei spat out with a fierce scowl. Because of her stocky build, she’d nearly been pushed out as a scapegoat by the Old Priest on several occasions; if not for Hunter and Meng protecting her, she would’ve been dead long ago.
Xia Fei’s view represented the thoughts of nearly everyone. If anyone had previously felt sympathy for those who’d left Yuanji, now everyone simply felt those people had taken a massive advantage of them.
Lord Jiufeng, the Mountain God, is going to follow and protect them the whole way! So what do they have to worry about?
But Lord Jiufeng is clearly their guardian deity—why on earth should he protect those bastards who abandoned them?
Ancestral God Priest Mo is theirs, Level 5 Warrior Yuan Zhan is theirs, and Lord Jiufeng is theirs too! They all belong to Jiuyuan!
Seeing that his objective had been achieved, Yuan Zhan led the way into the forest, and the others followed one after another.
Yan Mo kept his promise in front of everyone; many witnessed him walk to a clear spot by the stream, put his finger in his mouth, and blow a loud whistle.
Jiufeng, who had been playing with an Ironback Dragon hatchling nearby, glided over in a single swift motion and landed on the large rock beside Yan Mo. “Heh heh!” he said. “Mo Mo, don’t pay any attention to these idiots. Let me take you to play. I found a fun spot not far from here.”
Yan Mo raised his hand and stood on tiptoe to stroke the soft fur on its chest.
Jiufeng purred contentedly as he stroked it.
Yan Mo motioned for Jiufeng to lower its head and whispered something to it.
As Jiufeng listened, its fur bristled. At first, it refused, letting out an angry “Heh heh,” but after being soothed, it reluctantly agreed.
“Kyeh—” Then you’d better hurry out of the woods. If you’re a day late, I’ll eat ten of those two-legged monsters!
“Alright, I’ll come out as soon as I can.” Yan Mo thought to himself, Eat as many as you want, but didn’t you say you don’t eat two-legged monsters?
“Kyeh—” I won’t bother with them!
“I don’t need you to care about them. Just follow them. You’re out there to play anyway—you can hang out with the Ironback Dragon family, tease them, and scare them a little.”
“Jie?” Is that okay? Didn’t you say it wasn’t allowed before?
“People are different now. Those who follow me are my own—they’ll be your subjects from now on. Those wandering outside the forest don’t count!”
“Jie—” Jiufeng was delighted; he’d been itching to pick on a few two-legged creatures for a while.
“Don’t pick on the little ones—they’re too weak. Go after the big ones, and try not to kill them.”
“Jie!” Got it.
With the man and the bird having settled their plans, Yan Mo followed the group into the forest.
The headcount was taken three times. Including the seriously injured, there were a total of three hundred and thirty-five people, with warriors making up nearly two hundred of them.
Everyone was on edge as they entered the forest, largely due to Yuan Zhan’s repeated warnings to be careful. No one told them to be quiet, but everyone remained strangely silent; even the mischievous children dared not make much of a fuss.
Yuan Zhan led the way, and everyone followed him.
The Maple Clan guided them from ahead according to the map Yan Mo had provided, but they did not show themselves. The members of the escort remained hidden in the shadows; apart from Yuan Zhan and Yan Mo, no one else could tell whether the figures standing beside them were members of the Maple Clan or ordinary maple trees.
Yuan Zhan had a strange sensation. He hadn’t actually seen the Maple Clan’s figures ahead, yet he instinctively knew which way to go. It was as if every tree in the forest were pointing him in the right direction—a feeling very similar to when he walked underground.
Perhaps he should ask Mo: Was the seed that vanished from his body more than just a tender leaf sprouting from his chest? Did it have a greater impact on his body?
Mo had said he had fused with that seed, but what exactly did that mean?
Could he now begin to control plants just as he controlled the soil?
Besides Yuan Zhan, the twenty-eight warriors—including Bing—also felt that walking through the forest made them feel more at ease. Even now, they still didn’t know how they had survived; they only knew that Lord Mo had made a deal with the Maple Clan, who had rescued them.
As they walked, Yan Mo realized that the Maple Clan was still keeping something from them; the path they were leading him on didn’t entirely match the route provided in the guide.
How did he know this?
Because the map functioned like a magical map or a GPS device: a red dot moved wherever he went, allowing him to see exactly how far he had strayed from the intended route.
Fortunately, their overall direction remained correct, and they hadn’t strayed too far from the intended route—they were essentially staying parallel to it. If they had followed the guidebook’s route exactly, they would have had to cut straight through the very heart of the Black Forest.
During their days traversing the forest, Yuan Zhan kept his promise to Old Sama, exercising restraint when hunting beasts in the Black Forest. Each time, he took only enough meat to keep everyone about sixty percent full.
However, with wild vegetables and mushrooms to supplement their meals, no one went hungry.
Yan Mo also made quite a few discoveries along the way. The Black Forest was a treasure trove, though he didn’t have time to search it thoroughly. Even so, simply walking through it allowed him to find wild onions, wild ginger, and many other medicinal herbs he desperately needed.
When he spotted the wild ginger, Yan Mo nearly split his lips with laughter—this stuff was practically as strategically valuable as cotton!
While Yuan Zhan and Yan Mo led their men through the forest on a shortcut, the members of the Yuan Ji tribe—who were taking the long way around—were delighted to discover that the Mountain God Jiufeng had been following them the whole time.
When Jiufeng first caught up with them, they’d been on edge for a while, fearing that the Mountain God had already learned they’d abandoned the young priest.
And Jiufeng did indeed punish them. One by one, it grabbed the tribe’s strongest warriors with its claws and tossed them to the iron-backed dragon cubs to play with—forcing them to run while the cubs chased after them!
By the time those warriors were dragged back, they were all exhausted, foaming at the mouth.
Chief Hao didn’t escape this ordeal either. He went to beg Jiufeng to spare them, only to be snatched up and tossed down again. Just as Hao was about to hit the ground, Jiufeng swooped down to catch him. This back-and-forth tossing and catching happened several times, nearly playing Hao to death.
The old priest, Qiushi, grew terrified and wanted to sacrifice a human to Jiufeng. But just as they were about to act, Jiufeng swept them all away with its wings.
The old priest assumed Jiufeng disliked this group of sacrificial victims, so he selected another batch—only to have them blown away again. After several such attempts, he finally realized that the Mountain God Jiufeng simply held no regard for their offerings.
However, following these sacrifices, the old priest felt that the Mountain God seemed to have developed a certain fondness for him; on one occasion, Jiufeng even tossed him a goat’s head.
Furthermore, since Jiufeng had never left, always following behind them alongside the Ironback Dragon family to provide protection, the old priest couldn’t help but think smugly: Had he already gained the Mountain God’s approval? Would he be able to obtain even greater power in the future? Might the Ancestral God also appear to him in his dreams?
If that were truly the case, he wanted to beg Jiufeng and the Ancestral God to grant him a longer life—he didn’t want to die yet. Furthermore, he did not want to end up like the priests of the past, who turned into fools in their old age. For this reason, he had not yet dared to pass on the entire legacy to Qiu Ning, teaching him only the simplest parts. He firmly believed that once Qiu Ning matured, his abilities would be “sucked” away by the boy.
If the Ancestral God could turn him back into a youth, that would be even better. Qiu Shi vividly remembered how that young priest had gone from white hair to black!
Hao didn’t answer him, so the old priest took that as tacit agreement.
What the old priest didn’t know was that while he was talking to Hao, Jiufeng, who was following behind them, was also whispering to the Ironback Dragon cub.
“Heh! That old two-legged is so dumb! At first, he’d tie up those two-legged creatures so I could flap my wings at them for fun. With just one flap, they’d roll all the way to the end of the world!” Jiufeng declared, thoroughly pleased.
“Aah!”
“Heh heh! He’d wriggle and jump around, and even spit out smoke!”
“Ooh!”
“Heh! But when I threw him the leftover sheep’s head and told him to rip his own head off for me to play with, he didn’t get it! He’s just so dumb! Heh—!”
At the same time, on the vast lands on the other side of the same continent.
Since the previous Great Shaman, Lord Dimo, had departed to meet the Mother Goddess, Zheli—now the tribe’s new Great Shaman—lay drenched in cold sweat by the sacred pool. He struggled to lift his head, revealing a pair of white, pupil-less eyes.
The tribe’s chief, Chief Fudian—in the prime of his life—knelt before Zheli, lifting his wrist. “My Great Shaman, what is it you wish to tell me?”
Zheli seized his wrist, his fingernails digging into Fudian’s flesh. His body trembling, he summoned all his strength and, staring with his lifeless eyes, uttered his first prophecy since inheriting the title of Great Shaman: “The Fruit of Shamanic Fortune! I have seen the Fruit of the Shaman’s Destiny! It walks through the black forest, and the mermaids who dwell in the water have welcomed it… The tribe must obtain it! The Fruit of Shamanic Fortune must belong to the Dingyue Tribe!”
