Inside the cave, the pile of beast bones that had been boiled earlier lay to one side, and the extinguished fire only left dark red embers. Gu Qing rifled through the storage container, frowning lightly; inside were only half a ration of dry food and a can of water. He lifted his eyes to the cave entrance, where the wind howled and dust swirled.
Milton sat cross-legged against the cave wall. Gu Qing said in a low voice, “If we don’t go out to find food soon, we might run out.”
Milton glanced outside. “Let’s head north. The terrain there is low-lying; maybe we can find water and prey.”
The two of them moved forward side by side.
But no sooner had they crossed a sand dune than a low, guttural roar came from the distant barren woods. Then—like a flood bursting its dam—a tide of strange beasts surged out, their aura violent and frenzied, far beyond expectations.
Milton reacted instantly, shielding Gu Qing behind him. He whispered, “You go first. I’ll cover the rear.”
But Gu Qing raised a hand. “You still need to rest. Wait here for me.”
Milton’s Adam’s apple moved as he remembered the scene where Gu Qing had rescued him on the black market.
Gu Qing stepped forward, black hair lightly lifted by the wind, his figure tall and solitary.
In the next moment, the air shivered.
Spiritual energy poured from his palm, instantly forming a translucent longsword, as clear as cold jade. Even before the sword was drawn, its intent caused the air to tremble.
He stepped forward.
“Swish—!”
The first beast hadn’t even reached him when its head was severed by a single strike, blood spraying into the air, the stench of iron and gore hitting the nose.
Gu Qing’s expression remained calm. His swordsmanship was concise and ruthless, every move deadly. His movements were ghostlike, vanishing into the middle of the horde in an instant.
This was no longer a battle—it was slaughter.
The beasts lunged, but none could cross the line beneath his feet, their furious roars gradually turning into cries of despair and struggle.
Even amid the mountain of corpses and rivers of blood, his figure remained like untouched first snow, making it impossible for Milton to look away.
Every flash of the sword seemed to cut into his very heart, leaving him nearly breathless. The power on display exceeded imagination; it was so real before his eyes that he remained speechless for a long time.
Amid that chilling majesty, he felt an indescribable stirring, a desire to approach that solitary figure.
He lowered his gaze and bit his lip, his eyes slightly flustered, ears faintly tinged red as he tried to suppress the rising emotions.
Finally, the last beast fell, twitching.
Gu Qing slowly sheathed the sword, the swordlight turning into specks of spiritual glow, drifting amid the blood and windblown sand.
His white clothes remained pristine, untouched by dust or gore, as if unrelated to the slaughter. Suddenly, he sensed a residual aura among the beast corpses—dark, corrupt, carrying a familiar and extremely unpleasant scent.
His brow furrowed, and his divine sense probed gently into the depths.
“…Demonic energy.”
From his spiritual sea, a half-transparent soft light ball bounced out, silver specks flickering, its voice rapid: “Gu Qing! Did you see that?! That damn black mold demonic energy! The smell is unbearable—I can’t take it!”
Gu Qing frowned slightly. “Quiet.”
The small spirit curled up immediately, lowering its voice to a whisper, but still excited: “B-but… how could demonic energy end up in the beasts? Before, it only appeared in the female insect’s mental sea! This is too weird!”
A trace of heaviness crossed Gu Qing’s eyes, his voice calm: “I don’t know either. We can only stay alert for now.”
Footsteps sounded behind them. Milton’s voice was low: “Some of the beasts… I saw flashes inside them, like something was embedded.”
Gu Qing’s brow twitched. He bent down to examine the beasts’ corpses. On the third, he lightly touched it, letting his spiritual energy probe inside like threads. Moments later, a shattered crystal was pulled out, flickering with faint light, faintly etched with bizarre spiritual patterns—patterns he vaguely recognized, not contemporary insect techniques but more like remnants of a formation.
A formation fused with demonic energy… and yet, someone had made it?
Gu Qing’s frown deepened.
The little spirit in the spiritual sea said, “Whoa—this thing is super weird! Like… someone just jammed a bunch of random stuff together! Totally abnormal! Maybe it’s a leftover spell array for controlling the beasts. So bad!”
Milton frowned. “What is that?”
Gu Qing’s tone was indifferent: “A tool to control beasts. It probably stimulates their emotions, guiding their actions.”
He didn’t explain further, placing the fragments into his storage container.
Milton watched the motion, barely frowning. “These beasts were… driven by insects? If insects are behind this… then this beast surge wasn’t random.”
Gu Qing nodded. “We need to leave this area quickly and find the source.”
Milton stared at Gu Qing for a moment, whispering: “Your sword just now…”
Gu Qing replied calmly: “Just spiritual energy condensed.”
Milton hesitated. “…That really was only spiritual energy? I’ve never seen it condensed like that…”
Gu Qing paused, not answering directly. He only said: “Let’s return to the cave. I’ll gather some ingredients.” Milton nodded, thoughtful.
Gu Qing turned, his gaze still scanning the corpse pile. This was no coincidence. If someone truly wielded demonic energy and control techniques… he lifted his eyes northward, extending his divine sense. The aura was vague and chaotic, as if something was hidden deep in the barren stars.
—Need to investigate. If demonic energy is connected to the world’s collapse, he cannot take it lightly. This isn’t just for the interstellar world—it’s for his pact with the Dao.
The two returned to the cave. Outside, the wind howled; inside, the fire added warmth. Gu Qing deftly skinned the hunted beasts and set them on the fire. The sizzling fat released a gradually spreading, savory aroma.
Milton sat quietly nearby, eyes fixed on Gu Qing. The firelight illuminated his composed face, his gaze deep, as if hiding untold secrets.
After a long silence, he finally spoke softly, voice restrained yet trembling:
“…Gu Qing, you… who are you really?”
Gu Qing didn’t answer, just looked down at the meat on the fire, the flames casting shadows on his sharp profile, his brow still furrowed in thought.
Milton pressed his lips, lowering his voice, almost whispering cautiously:
“I’m not trying to force you… I just want to know how you did it.”
Gu Qing finally met his eyes briefly, gaze dark and calm as ink, inscrutable. Still, he didn’t answer immediately.
Milton’s heart tightened, continuing softly: “You did use spiritual power, right? But… no insect could turn it into that.”
He paused, then added carefully: “I’ve never seen a male insect fight like you, not even a female soldier like this.”
Gu Qing lowered his eyes, answering lightly: “I just trained my spiritual power a bit better.”
Milton stared at him, silent for a long while, then said: “You never told me how you learned these things. I know you don’t want to reveal too much… but I’m not asking about the secrets.”
His voice dropped, almost a murmur: “I just want to know… if you’re willing to be a little more open with me.”
Gu Qing remained silent, handing him a skewer of roasted meat: “Does this count?”
Milton took it, fingers brushing his hand, but did not pull away, just watching quietly, Adam’s apple moving slightly as he suppressed his heartbeat.
“Then will you leave?”
Gu Qing looked at him deeply. “I don’t know what the future holds.”
He paused, then added softly: “But for now… I will protect the insects I’m supposed to protect.”
Milton lowered his head slightly, a faint smile barely held back on his lips, leaning slightly toward him. The flickering fire cast their shadows, tilting toward Gu Qing, as if quietly catching the trust entrusted to him.