Chapter Four: Escape Through the Jungle

Ye Mo dashed wildly through the undergrowth of the island jungle, his chest aching as though it would split open, threatening to bring him down at any moment. Within his body, a chill surged through his meridians, leaving him in utter discomfort.

At last, unable to go any farther, he collapsed beneath an ancient tree, gasping for breath in great gulps.

He reached for his back, finding a hole the size of an arrowhead in his rough shirt, but the ancient painting scroll pressed against his skin remained unscathed.

“It was the ancient scroll that saved my life!”

A lingering fear gripped Ye Mo’s heart. If it weren’t for the scroll’s imperviousness to blades and arrows, the water dart from that juvenile demon crab would have bored a hole right through his back, leaving him dead on the island shore.

Though the ancient scroll had stopped the dart from piercing him, the violent force of the impact still crashed mercilessly into his back.

The sheer force alone left his chest tight and sore; he had already coughed up several mouthfuls of dark blood.

And still, the cold, sinister energy from the water dart lingered within him.

“The sea monsters of the Eastern Sea are truly savage! That was only a juvenile demon crab, barely a few feet in size, its shell not yet hardened, and it’s already so deadly—its strength rivals that of a high-level martial artist, and it wields terrifying water magic! If that had been a fully grown demon crab, I would have been killed instantly.”

Ye Mo sat cross-legged at the roots of the ancient tree, summoning the scant true energy within him to begin healing his wounds.

Inner energy cultivation was typically the domain of advanced martial disciplines—rare and expensive.

Ye Mo himself had never studied genuine inner cultivation arts.

His training in the Wave-Cleaving Sword Art was an external style; but over time, as the practitioner honed their body, even external arts could gradually generate a faint thread of true energy, barely enough for rudimentary healing.

Still, in terms of strengthening the body, cultivating true energy, or healing wounds, external arts could never match the power of inner cultivation.

The top martial artists of the Martial Kingdom generally focused on internal arts, or balanced both internal and external disciplines, each complementing the other. With the aid of medicinal herbs, their bodies became as strong as steel, and their true energy could swiftly heal injuries.

“If only the Wave-Cleaving Sword Art included inner cultivation techniques! With strong inner energy, I could expel this chilling poison in no time.”

Ye Mo could only sigh.

He could only use what little true energy he possessed to force out the remnant chill of the water dart. This had to be done quickly, or it would impede his future cultivation.

For a martial artist, nothing was more dangerous than letting injuries accumulate.

Though internal injuries may not threaten life in the short term, and some could even go unnoticed in the meridians, if left untreated, they could clog the blood vessels over time, making them all but impossible to clear.

Martial cultivation is, after all, a process of constantly opening the body’s channels, tempering and strengthening the physique, and enhancing one’s vital energy. If the channels are blocked, progress halts altogether. Worse yet, as the body weakens with age, old injuries may resurface, leading to disability or paralysis, condemning the martial artist to spend their remaining years bedridden.

To a martial artist, such a fate is worse than death!

Naturally, Ye Mo was determined not to let his wounds fester.

What troubled him was that the lingering chill within him seemed unlike an ordinary internal injury. It was a cold current, rampaging through his body, causing his blood to stagnate and making him extremely uncomfortable.

“The water dart of the juvenile demon crab is truly vicious! Carrying such a chilling poison, it makes the blood stagnate. Thank heavens it only spat one dart.”

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Ye Mo drove his true energy to encircle and force out the sinister cold.

He gathered all the true energy in his body, managing to form a cluster about the size of a fist.

The chill from the water dart had diminished to the size of a thumb, much reduced after rampaging through him and being worn away.

Bearing the pain in his meridians, Ye Mo sent the current of his true energy surging forth, surrounding the white stream of cold.

But rather than being dispelled, his own true energy was dispersed in just a few moments. Still, the sinister chill was further diminished—now only half a thumb’s size—and seemed to quiet down, no longer rampaging through his body.

“Thankfully, this strange chill has been suppressed! Once I find a safe place and take some healing herbs, I should be able to drive it out completely.”

Ye Mo breathed a sigh of relief.

With the aid of medicinal herbs, and by using his true energy to activate their effects, he was confident the cold would be expelled. The poison left by the juvenile demon crab would dwindle, and eventually be eradicated.

He consoled himself with this thought. After sitting to recover a bit of strength, he rose and headed deeper into the jungle.

His stomach ached with hunger and thirst.

He needed to find food and fresh water quickly to replenish his strength—so depleted, he doubted he could handle even an ordinary wild beast, let alone another sea monster.

Ye Mo searched the jungle as he moved, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

“With an island this size, there must be bird nests in the forest.”

Though it would be easier to collect seabird eggs from the coastal grass, he dared not return. If he ran into that demon crab again, a single water dart could finish him off.

The sun blazed overhead.

The island’s trees were tall and lush, their branches thick with leaves, exuding vibrant life.

Yet within the forest, Ye Mo felt no oppressive heat; instead, cool breezes gusted through, refreshing him greatly.

Soon, he spotted an ancient tree, nearly thirty meters tall. He had just seen several birds circling above, and glimpsed what seemed to be a nest amid the dense leaves.

In no time, Ye Mo had climbed to the crown of the tree. Before him was a large nest filled with bird eggs of all colors and patterns.

“So many eggs—enough for a hearty meal!”

Delighted, Ye Mo could barely keep from drooling.

He picked up a pale green egg, tapped it lightly on the hilt of his Azure Edge Sword, and cracked the shell with fine fissures. The egg white was wrapped in a thin membrane, not a drop of liquid spilled.

Too hungry to bother making a fire, Ye Mo deftly peeled away a piece of shell, punctured the membrane, and held the shell to his lips, tilting his head back to suck down a great mouthful.

With a slurp, the entire contents of the egg, yolk and all, slid smoothly down his throat.

“Delicious!”

Ye Mo couldn’t help but praise it.

With this nourishing meal, his strength quickly began to return.

Perched high in the tree, he devoured several more eggs with satisfaction and prepared to climb down. But just then, he caught sight of two figures swiftly moving through the jungle below and let out a soft exclamation.

Beneath the thick foliage, a woman in green sped through the forest, glancing back in panic as she ran toward the base of Ye Mo’s tree.

“Stop right there! Hand over the Crimson Blood Vine and I’ll grant you a whole corpse. Do you think you can outrun me, Chang Rong—the Ashura Leg of Zheng Kingdom?”

A black-clad warrior pursued her through the undergrowth, his sinister voice echoing as he chased after the woman in green.