Chapter Forty-Four: The Land of Primal Beasts

Li Xingyu was making his way toward a remote, seldom-visited mountain deep within the heart of the Celestial Empire. According to the map from the Myriad Ways Sect, this range consisted of hundreds of peaks and valleys. Though situated within the empire, about dozens of these peaks and valleys formed a place notorious throughout the Celestial Empire—a perilous region known as the Land of Primal Beasts.

Ancient records revealed that this Land of Primal Beasts had once served as a sanctuary where cultivators raised their spirit beasts. Back then, cultivators used powerful arrays and restrictions to enclose these dozens of peaks and valleys, creating an environment for nurturing formidable spirit beasts. Because these beasts possessed varying degrees of cultivation—some even highly advanced and inherently fierce—the protective arrays and restrictions were formidable. Yet, for the convenience of lower-ranked disciples tasked with tending the beasts, the primary function of the array was to prevent the creatures inside from escaping, rather than making entry particularly difficult.

With the passage of time, the arrays gradually lost their effectiveness, and the spirit beasts were taken away when the cultivators departed. Yet remnants of the arrays lingered, especially at the former array nodes, still wielding some power. More importantly, after the cultivators had left, new beasts emerged—creatures neither ordinary animals nor true spirit beasts, but fierce hybrids referred to by the inhabitants of Nastar as Primal Beasts. The strength of these Primal Beasts varied: the most powerful reportedly rivaled innate experts, while even the weakest far surpassed ordinary wild animals. The origins of these Primal Beasts remained shrouded in mystery, though prevailing theories suggested they were either hybrids resulting from ordinary animals inadvertently trapped within the arrays and mingled with spirit beast bloodlines, or eggs of weaker spirit beasts overlooked during the cultivators’ departure that later hatched on their own.

The presence of these Primal Beasts, combined with the lingering effects of the ancient arrays, rendered this area a dead zone within the Celestial Empire. Occasionally, Primal Beasts would wander beyond their domains, prompting the entire mountain range to become largely deserted. The mountains’ original name had faded from memory; everyone now referred to them as the Primal Beast Mountains. Despite the dangers, the range was vast, and certain areas remained relatively safe.

Li Xingyu’s destination was one such valley, marked as safe on the map. His choice of location stemmed from the fact that, having acquired the Jade Ginseng, he hoped to harness its effects to break through to the Spirit Condensation Realm. During such cultivation—especially when attempting a breakthrough—distractions could prove fatal. Without a sect to shield him, he had to seek a secluded, nearly inaccessible place. If successful, his strength would increase dramatically, and he would finally be able to use the storage ring he had obtained—perhaps discovering items within that could further aid him.

Moreover, with a treasure in hand, even if the Xiaoyao Sect chose not to reveal the secret, they would surely hunt him down, unwilling to relinquish the Jade Ginseng so easily. Who could say whether those present, or spies from other factions lurking within Xiaoyao, might leak the news? If so, his peril would grow exponentially. Thus, finding a hidden sanctuary and using the Jade Ginseng to advance his cultivation was the wisest course.

Li Xingyu had not slain the Xiaoyao Sect members to silence them—partly because he could not bring himself to do so. More importantly, when he saw the plaintive gaze in Chen Jingrou’s eyes, he was reminded of his girlfriend’s look each time he embarked on a mission. The earnestness in her eyes when she pleaded to accompany him, the shyness when he covered her mouth—so reminiscent of his girlfriend’s bashfulness during their first kiss—only strengthened his resolve not to harm them. If he spared Chen Jingrou, killing the others would be pointless. After a final glance at Chen Jingrou, he turned and departed, paying no heed to Protector Pang. He knew the Xiaoyao Sect would never let him leave freely; at the very least, they would escort him back to their sect. Letting him go would risk leaking news of the Jade Ginseng—a threat they could not afford. Moreover, his freedom could endanger their own safety. Protector Cheng, with his experience, would never make such a rookie mistake.

Following the map from the Myriad Ways Sect, Li Xingyu traveled for ten days without encountering danger, finally arriving at the chosen valley. The valley was deep, surrounded on all sides by towering peaks. Its seclusion was due to the fact that entry required scaling a sheer cliff over a hundred feet high, or crossing the cloud-reaching mountains encircling it. Ordinary people and most martial artists would find it nearly impossible to discover or access. This was a crucial reason for Li Xingyu’s choice. While he doubted the martial world’s factions would guess his location or find it, he feared being disturbed by accidental passersby or wild beasts during his breakthrough.

Li Xingyu’s cultivation had already reached the pinnacle of the so-called Innate Realm among martial artists. Equipped with advanced climbing gear from Earth, he easily scaled the cliff and entered the valley. Though the season here was akin to late autumn on Earth, the valley, encased by high peaks and perhaps warmed by subterranean volcanic flows, remained balmy. Lush green grasses and blooming flowers covered the ground. Sensing the warmth radiating up from the earth, Li Xingyu confirmed that volcanic magma or thin crust beneath the valley allowed heat to rise. Surveying the valley and its slopes, he found several small animals and edible fungi and wild fruits, solving his food problem.

The small animals, perhaps unaccustomed to humans, showed neither fear nor hostility when Li Xingyu appeared. Some even approached, sniffing his scent upon realizing he meant no harm. Li Xingyu quickly grew fond of this place—the presence of these animals suggested the valley was indeed safe, a veritable paradise. He caught several larger carnivores for food and gathered wild fruits, fungi, and vegetables, deciding there was no need to subsist on dried meat; life, after all, should offer some enjoyment.

During his exploration, Li Xingyu discovered a cave with a concealed entrance. Although he sensed no danger, the animals accompanying him halted fifty meters from the cave, refusing to approach. This reminded him of the situation in the Primal Beast Mountains; could there be hidden dangers in the cave? It seemed unlikely, given the overall safety of the valley. Upon careful examination, he found nothing amiss—the cave was not deep, only a dozen meters or so, with a spacious interior.

As he left the cave to continue exploring, he considered whether to use it as his place for cultivation. Were it not for the animals’ reluctance, the cave would be ideal. But what caused their fear? Had he overlooked something? He pondered this, recalling his inspection and weighing the cave’s pros and cons for his breakthrough.

Ultimately, he decided to use the cave. He guessed the animals’ fear might stem from a fierce beast that formerly inhabited the cave, and though it was gone, its scent remained. Animals often judged strength by scent, so they dared not enter. Li Xingyu felt no such concern. Given his limited time due to matters two years hence, he could not afford to search for another location. After making all necessary preparations, Li Xingyu retreated to the depths of the cave and began to regulate his breathing, intending to adjust his true essence to its peak before consuming the Jade Ginseng to break through his bottleneck.

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