"Pick up the pace! We're almost there!"
An elderly man who appeared advanced in years strode swiftly ahead, repeatedly glancing back to urge the crowd behind him to hurry.
A red moon that appeared only once every hundred years—how could they possibly miss it? Even if their strength was mediocre, merely witnessing the birth of a legendary treasure would be worth the journey. And if fortune favored them, perhaps they might even snatch a valuable relic to take home.
More than a hundred men followed closely behind the old man, their faces alight with excitement.
They moved rapidly through the dense forest. Yet compared to those powerful cultivators equipped with magical artifacts, their speed was still painfully slow.
Low-ranking demonic beasts lurking in the woods were terrified when they sensed such a large number of humans intruding, and hurried back into their lairs, daring not to show themselves.
These were merely lesser beasts—how could they have ever seen such a spectacle? Normally, the Ha Yue Mountain Range was utterly devoid of human presence. Occasionally, young heirs of powerful clans might venture in to train, but even then, those humans would flee in fear upon encountering them. Today was different: not only were there many people, but their collective aura was far from weak.
This must have something to do with the red moon tonight.
"Roar—!"
"Awwooo—!"
"Boom—!"
The Ha Yue Mountains, once eerily silent, suddenly erupted with the deafening roars of countless demonic beasts.
The group halted instinctively under the old man's lead, confusion written all over their faces.
Cheng Yongming stood still, listening intently to the direction of the sounds. With his many years of mercenary experience, he sensed immediately that this red moon concealed a grave danger.
Sure enough, he detected a massive wave of demonic beasts charging toward them from not far ahead.
"Quick! Everyone, get into the trees—now! There are nearly a hundred demonic beasts heading straight for us!" Cheng Yongming's expression changed drastically as he shouted orders to the younger men behind him.
Facing such a horde, how could people of their level possibly stand a chance? Their only hope of survival lay in the towering trees around them.
"Huh? Why? Lord Yongming?" A blue-robed youth of fourteen or fifteen asked blankly.
"What nonsense! How could there be demonic beasts in such a peaceful forest?" scoffed a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old young man further back, his manner arrogant and disdainful as he glanced at the grave-faced elder ahead.
"That's right! Even if there were beasts, so what?" echoed the servant beside him smugly. "My young master carries a fifth-grade artifact—are we supposed to fear a mere demonic beast?" He then bent slightly, fawning. "Isn't that right, Young Master?"
"Hmph!" The young noble lifted his chin proudly, brandishing the artifact at his waist. "This treasure of mine is more than enough to crush a second-rank demonic beast."
The sight made the eyes of those third- and fourth-rank warriors nearby burn with envy.
Artifacts were luxuries beyond the reach of ordinary people—only wealthy clans could afford them.
With such a young master present, surely there was nothing to fear.
Twenty or thirty warriors instinctively edged closer to him.
"You fools… sigh, forget it." Seeing their disbelief, Cheng Yongming could only shake his head. Their lives or deaths were none of his concern.
Turning to the remaining men, he said calmly, "Those willing to trust me—follow and climb the trees. Those who don't… stay where you are."
With that, he leapt onto the nearest tree.
After a moment's hesitation, most of the others chose to believe him and followed suit.
Cheng Yongming was a peak seventh-rank warrior—just one step away from becoming a Martial Master. Decades ago, he had already advanced from sixth to seventh rank, yet he had never managed to break through. This journey into the Ha Yue Mountains was precisely to seek that long-awaited opportunity.
From above, he watched as the remaining few clustered tightly around the flamboyantly dressed noble youth, scanning their surroundings nervously.
Time passed, and the forest remained unnervingly silent—not even a cicada chirped.
"Hah! See? I told you—how could demonic beasts appear in such a quiet forest?" the servant sneered, glancing up at Cheng Yongming in the trees. "Lord Yongming was clearly just trying to scare everyone!"
"Yes, yes—Young Master truly is wise," another cultivator chimed in flatteringly, casting a disdainful look toward Cheng Yongming.
"Ha! Of course," the young noble laughed loudly, his voice echoing through the forest.
"Which idiot doesn't know that laughing like that attracts demonic beasts?"
High above, an immortal-looking elder in white frowned deeply, stroking his long beard as he stood upon his flying sword.
"Brother Fang, why bother with those who seek their own deaths?" another elder in green robes laughed lightly as he caught up.
"Hmph." The white-robed elder snorted and accelerated forward, leaving the green-robed man behind.
"So many years, and your temper hasn't changed at all," the green-robed elder sighed, following close behind.
Two streaks—one white, one green—cut across the sky like afterimages. Their speed alone revealed their terrifying cultivation: both were Martial Lords.
Below, the noble youth continued laughing, oblivious to the impending doom.
The cultivators who had been standing near him quietly slipped away.
The ground began to tremble.
Moments later, demonic beasts surged out of the forest in a frenzy—third-rank, fourth-rank, even sixth-rank beasts among them.
Heaven above—there were dozens of times more beasts than people. How could they possibly fight this?
Those perched in the trees felt a surge of relief, silently thanking themselves for trusting Cheng Yongming.
In that instant, his image in their hearts grew towering and resolute.
Below, chaos erupted. The beasts attacked like maddened fiends, tearing into anything human without restraint.
In no time at all, blood soaked the ground, bodies torn apart beneath claw and fang.
Only one survived—the richly dressed young noble.
After expending his only life-saving artifact, he even sacrificed his servant as a shield, barely managing to scramble into a tree.
Disheveled and pale, he clung desperately to a thick branch, gasping for breath.
"Go—leave immediately! As fast as possible!" Cheng Yongming commanded once the beasts finally retreated.
Under his leadership, dozens of cultivators safely reached the middle region of the Demonic Beast Forest.
Though they encountered beasts along the way, the group worked together to slay them. Many were injured, some perished, but they harvested pelts and materials, storing them away to exchange for gold later.
The middle region was already crowded—mostly powerful cultivators who had flown in earlier, along with representatives of major clans.
The treasure lay in the innermost region. Now, countless spirit beasts were fleeing outward, startled by the disturbances within. Upon seeing humans, they hesitated briefly, then turned away—self-preservation above all else.
Normally, these beasts would slaughter humans on sight. Today, survival mattered more.
Each clan claimed territory near the inner ring, waiting patiently.
It was now the Hour of Hai. In one more hour, when the red moon rose, the treasure would emerge—so the legends said.
The inner region trembled more violently by the minute, driving spirit beasts and demonic beasts alike into frantic retreat. This, at last, explained the endless beast tides encountered earlier.
"Elder Fang, when do you think we can enter the inner region?" a Lan Clan steward asked respectfully.
"Hmph. If your Lan Clan wishes to enter, then go," Elder Fang replied coldly, eyes still closed in meditation.
Though a Martial Lord, the long flight had drained him considerably. He seized this chance to regulate his breath before the treasure appeared.
The steward flushed but dared not protest. After all, he was merely a first-rank Martial Master.
"Hey, little steward—come here," the green-robed elder beckoned cheerfully.
Instead of approaching, the steward sneered. "Hmph. What would an old beggar like you know?"
"Hey! That's no way to speak," the elder protested, still smiling.
The steward ignored him entirely and returned to his clan.
Others watched with amusement.
"Look! That's the number one genius of Feng Nation!" someone suddenly exclaimed.
Indeed—a young man descended gracefully on a flying sword, awe inspiring all who beheld him.
"So even he has come… Then surely the 'Number One Beauty' won't miss this either?" someone muttered.
At once, countless eyes turned skyward, searching for her figure.