Chapter Five: The First Battle

Treading on the soft earth, Chen Qi moved forward warily.

Though he had already entered the foothills for half an hour, he had yet to encounter even a common animal, let alone a fierce beast. This, however, was to be expected—no doubt, the areas closest to the Cloud Sea Sect had long since been scoured countless times by the sect’s powerful disciples. Listening to the insects chirping among the mountains, Chen Qi lay beneath a tree to rest for a while, allowing his restless heart to gradually settle. He understood well: the more one proceeds in a state of constant vigilance, the more fatigued one becomes when confronted by a wild beast. The art of battle, too, must have its ebbs and flows.

After drinking a mouthful of water he’d brought, Chen Qi continued deeper into the mountains. By now, his mind was calm and his body relaxed, yet there was a sense of latent energy ready to spring forth.

Suddenly, Chen Qi noticed a pile of dung amid the grass, trailing away toward a narrow path. He stared thoughtfully at it; if his guess was correct, this was the droppings of a Crimson-Striped Wild Boar, suggesting one was likely nearby.

He opened his bestiary, and sure enough, the Crimson-Striped Wild Boar was listed:

Crimson-Striped Wild Boar: Eighth-grade fierce beast. Excels at headlong charges, with tough hide and flesh, hard tusks, and stiff bristles. Materials from its body can be exchanged for fifteen contribution points.

“Eighth grade?” Chen Qi murmured, then decided to seek out the boar. The contribution points from its materials were enticing, but he had also promised Sun Ruohai to bring back its meat as a side for their wine.

Following the trail of dung, the stench grew stronger. Not far ahead was a small cave, the source of the foul odor. As Chen Qi hesitated, wondering whether to venture in for battle, a beastly shadow slowly emerged from the darkness—the Crimson-Striped Wild Boar itself!

He saw that the boar’s body was marked with red patterns, its blood-red bristles swaying in the wind, and its bloodstained tusks glinting in the sunlight—a genuine fierce beast. The boar, about to head out to hunt, froze at the sight of Chen Qi at its doorstep. Man and beast stared at each other for several seconds.

Seeing that the human before it was not especially robust, the Crimson-Striped Wild Boar flew into a rage, snorting as it charged at Chen Qi. Though Chen Qi had anticipated this, the boar’s speed still shocked him; his carefully planned dodge barely allowed him to avoid being gored.

The wild boar, unable to halt its momentum, crashed heavily into a tree behind Chen Qi. As Chen Qi prepared to strike at its hindquarters, the boar wrenched its tusks free from the trunk and immediately charged again.

Now only a few meters separated them. Seeing that the boar could not build up speed for another charge, Chen Qi boldly swung his blade at the beast’s head.

Clang!

As the blade was about to strike, the boar twisted its head, catching the sword with its tusks. Steel rang against ivory in a clear, sharp note. Chen Qi felt a tremendous force surge through his arm, forcing him to stagger backward.

“How strong is this brute?” he thought, steeling himself for the next attack. The collision seemed to affect the boar only slightly; with a shake of its head, it charged again.

Clang! Clang!

Sparks flew as blade met tusk again and again. The repeated impacts sent waves of force through Chen Qi’s arm, leaving his right hand numb and aching.

Seeing that the boar could shrug off attacks with a mere toss of its head, Chen Qi realized he needed to change tactics. He rushed toward the boar, shortening its distance to accelerate. At the moment they were about to collide, Chen Qi suddenly dropped to the side, his right hand slashing out as the boar thundered past. The combined momentum of both created a deep gash along the beast’s flank.

The Crimson-Striped Wild Boar howled in pain, blood spurting from its side, but this only drove it into a frenzy. With a sudden pivot, it lunged at Chen Qi again.

Chen Qi’s blade, now slick with pig’s blood, seemed to glow as some effect was triggered. Unflinching, he swung a swift, horizontal slash at the boar. The beast, unwilling to let its head be wounded, once more met the blade with its tusks. But Chen Qi, having grown accustomed to its frontal assaults, was ready. He feinted, then brought his blade down with renewed force, aiming straight for the boar’s snout.

Still, it was not without cost. The boar’s massive body barreled into him, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying.

“Is that all?” Chen Qi sneered, quickly getting up again.

Now in full battle mode, Chen Qi shed his usual flamboyance, his eyes gleaming with a bloodthirsty light rarely seen in him. Compared to Sun Ruohai’s punch that once made his organs spasm, the boar’s charge was nothing at all. Had anyone witnessed the scene, they would have seen a young man grinning savagely at a bleeding wild boar, its snout marred by a deep, bone-revealing gash.

Seizing the advantage, Chen Qi pressed the attack, charging at the wounded beast. He was certain the boar was in no condition to fight back.

But to his astonishment, the wild boar did something unexpected: seeing Chen Qi rush at it, it turned and bolted away, kicking up clouds of dust as it fled! Chen Qi, caught off guard, inhaled a noseful of dust, left coughing and disheveled. Watching the boar disappear into the distance, he stamped his foot in frustration and cursed the creature’s cunning.

“Don’t let me catch you again!” he shouted after it. Seeing the trail of blood left behind, Chen Qi decided not to let it escape so easily. The spot where the boar had struck him still ached, so he immediately set off in pursuit, following the bloodstains.

...

Ten minutes later, Chen Qi jogged after the trail, his steps light, burning with thoughts of revenge.

Thirty minutes later, doubt crept in. Surely, with so much blood loss, the boar couldn’t have run so far. Were it not for the clear trail, he would have thought he’d lost it.

Forty minutes later, he pressed onward, resigned. If not for the bloodstains, he would have given up.

“I really regret not using my finishing move to kill that boar when I had the chance. Truly.” — Chen Qi.

After nearly an hour’s chase, Chen Qi finally spotted the crimson boar collapsed up ahead.

It lay in a hollow, barely breathing; if not for the faint twitch of its tail, it might have been mistaken already for a corpse.

Suppressing his excitement, Chen Qi gripped his blade and advanced cautiously. He had to beware of a dying beast’s last strike—it was, after all, an eighth-grade beast.

“One step. Two steps.”

He edged closer. The anticipated counterattack did not come. Now, only two sword-lengths separated him from the boar’s fallen form.

“Rest easy; I’ll give you a proper pyre,” Chen Qi said with mock solemnity, raising his blade. Sunlight gleamed in gold and crimson off the edge.

Just then, a sudden change occurred—a drum-like pounding sounded from behind him.