The winter rain fell in a steady drizzle.
On the desolate mountain, the sound of raindrops striking leaves echoed endlessly, the chill seeping deep into the bones with every breath.
Inside the cold and silent temple, a group of traveling merchants stumbled in, grumbling as they shook off the rain and checked their goods.
"We might be stuck on this mountain tonight. This shortcut was supposed to save time, but who knew we’d run into this cursed weather?"
"Ugh, why is this mountain path so treacherous?"
"Spending the night up here… we won’t run into any demonic beasts, will we?"
The merchants shivered as they complained.
"Relax, this is the Mountain Lord’s temple. The priests from the nearby villages make regular offerings here—it’s very efficacious."
"I’ve stayed here overnight before. Nothing to worry about with the Mountain Lord’s protection."
Reassured by his words, the merchants settled down, lighting a fire to cook their meal.
Before long, movement sounded at the entrance. The group tensed, looking up to see two figures stepping inside.
"Pardon the intrusion."
A young man clasped his hands in greeting.
"Travelers must help each other when they can," the guide replied warmly.
The young man studied him thoughtfully before taking a seat beside a veiled woman.
At first, the merchants eyed the pair with curiosity, but soon lost interest, turning their attention to wine and roasted flatbread as they chatted.
"Have you heard? The guardian spirits in many places have been slain."
"The ones in Nine Spirits Village and Humao Town—gone."
"Who would dare commit such sacrilege?"
"Not a who—a what. One’s a wicked flood dragon, the other a bird demon. No one knows how they teamed up."
The young man blinked in surprise.
Among the demon tribes, he was known as the Peerless Heavenly Flood Dragon.
He’d spent his journey vanquishing demons and evil spirits, yet his reputation seemed… different from what he’d imagined.
The merchants glanced at him. The firelight had grown brighter, revealing his handsome features—gentle brows and a smile that likely radiated warmth, the very image of a refined gentleman, as outsiders from the southern border might say.
Beside him, the woman wore a dark veil, her face obscured, her presence icy and unapproachable.
"What… exactly did they do wrong?" asked Li Mo, the so-called "wicked flood dragon."
"They killed the guardian spirits but refused to accept worship. Who are the people supposed to turn to now?" a merchant retorted, as if stating the obvious.
He couldn’t help but recall the time he and Ying Bing had slain a bloated river beast—a creature that deliberately stirred storms to capsize boats.
Only after receiving sacrifices would it relent.
By merely committing slightly less evil, it had earned the right to sit in a temple, feasting on incense and offerings.
Small sacrifices every month, grand ones every year.
Livestock for minor rites, children for the major ones.
"If people don’t worship the guardian spirits, they won’t need offerings anymore."
A merchant glared at Li Mo as if he were a heretic, indignant.
"That’s how it’s always been."
"Exactly. A few cattle, a couple of children—it’s a small price to pay for everyone’s safety."
"Take this Mountain Lord, for instance. With his protection, wild beasts dare not approach. That’s why we can sit here and chat without fear."
"And what if… you were the ones being offered?"
Li Mo’s voice turned eerily quiet.
At some point, the veiled woman beside him had vanished.
The firelight flickered violently as a frigid wind howled through the temple, plunging the air into deeper gloom.
As if something… was awakening.
The crowd gasped in horror, scrambling to flee, but they had barely reached the doorway when—
A massive black shadow crashed to the ground.
It was the head of a mottled, bluish-purple tiger—ferocious and enormous, its maw wide enough to swallow a grown man whole, a sight both terrifying and grotesque.
Yet now it lay dead, its blood frozen solid, leaving only the pungent stench of carnage in the air.
The rain had ceased unnoticed.
Moonlight spilled down.
Before the headless tiger corpse stood a maiden bathed in lunar radiance, her sword sliding smoothly back into its sheath as jade-green wings flickered and dissolved behind her.
The night wind lifted her black veil, accidentally revealing a glimpse of breathtaking beauty.
"This Mountain Lord was quite formidable."
Li Mo kicked the massive tiger head out the door with a light chuckle:
"Definitely stronger than that fat-headed fish and that crow."
The merchants dared not utter a word.
The very figure they had been discussing earlier had been sitting among them all along.
Suddenly, the guide shrieked hysterically and collapsed stiffly to the ground.
Panicked, the merchants scattered in all directions, wishing their parents had blessed them with extra legs.
"Hey, you forgot your goods!"
Li Mo called after them.
But his words might as well have been a death warrant from a demon, spurring the merchants to flee even faster.
Young Li shook his head and kicked out the long-dead tiger specter as well.
Perhaps because of Shang Qinqing.
Their journey so far had been free of truly fearsome calamity beasts, mostly just the so-called 'wraiths' lurking along the way.
Yet they had barely covered a third of the road.
Who knew what other twists lay ahead?
After adding a few sticks to the campfire, the temple fell silent.
Ying Bing removed her bamboo hat, tucking it into the oversized puppet at her waist.
Her tone as she spoke his name bore no trace of the swordswoman who had just slain a Mountain Lord.
Li Mo sat beside her, naturally taking her small hand in his.
Ying Bing handed him the Demon-Slaying Gourd before gripping a Moon Essence Crystal in her left hand.
The gourd was full—its contents could nourish the crystal. While not as potent as the power of living souls, it was still a sacred treasure for refining spiritual will.
As everyone knew, opening a gourd required two hands.
But he only had two hands—one of which was currently holding the ice block's.
Ying Bing seemed to grasp his dilemma. Pressing her lips together, she made to loosen her grip momentarily—
Only to watch as the young man bit off the gourd's stopper with impressive boldness.
"Do you think holding both hands would improve the dual cultivation effect?" Li Mo asked after pouring the essence into the crystal.
Ying Bing arched an elegant brow: "In that case, would holding feet achieve similar results?"
Had the ice block learned to extrapolate? She was starting to show flashes of his own genius!
"Worth testing. We might've discovered a new application for The Phoenix Cry Over Heavenly Marsh."
"But I'm on night watch. You'll have to practice alone."
Amusement glimmered in Ying Bing's eyes as she tapped his forehead with a finger and rose to her feet.
Young Li flexed his empty hand, feeling oddly bereft.
At this moment, his longing for the Somersault Cloud peaked.
A single flip might not cover 108,000 miles, but surely it could return them to South Pass City?
Now they had to take turns keeping watch—no more dual cultivation.
And he still lacked three transformations to complete the Seventy-Two Changes.
Mastering these three transformations will grant access to the next divine ability...