Chapter 7: The Beast Tide
Wang Jie’s lips curled into a smirk. With a flick of his fingertip, a spiraling burst of Luo Xuan Finger tore Uncle Ling’s arm in two. Before the older man could react, Wang Jie followed with a palm strike to his shoulder, sending both him and the Zhao Clan’s Eldest Young Master hurtling toward the looming Moon Plant, its massive green leaves swaying ominously.
A despairing wail escaped the young master’s lips.
Uncle Ling stared at Wang Jie in utter disbelief. [Impossible… How could this brat wield such a potent finger technique?] Even my Six Seals cultivation couldn’t withstand it?
Pain flared from his severed limb. Panicking, he attempted to flee—only for the Moon Plant’s enormous leaves to surge forward. In a last, desperate move, he twisted midair, throwing the Zhao Clan’s Eldest Young Master into the plant’s gaping maw to gain momentum to escape.
The young master’s final scream was abruptly cut off as he was swallowed whole.
Sweat streamed down Uncle Ling’s face as he clutched his severed arm, sprinting in the opposite direction. Yet, he had underestimated the Moon Plant. Having already tasted prey, its leaves curled once more—this time around him.
Darkness consumed him.
In his last moment, he glimpsed Wang Jie’s distant silhouette fleeing under the black sky. That figure… it stirred a memory.
[Sixteen to twenty years old…]
[It’s him!]
Far ahead, Wang Jie sprinted, just managing to escape the Moon Plant’s reach. Glancing back, he watched the monstrous plant devour everything in sight, its nightmarish form illuminated by the moonlight.
He panted, examining his wounded wrist. [A Six Seals cultivator is no joke. That Uncle Ling was tough, and Feng Yu will be even stronger.] [Good thing I played it safe with her; otherwise, it might not have gone so smoothly.]
But a new problem loomed.
He had served as the Zhao Clan’s Guide, leading them out—only for them to be wiped out. The clan would surely blame him. Coughing lightly, he wiped the trickle of blood from his mouth—his old injuries had reopened.
[I’d better find somewhere to rest for the night.]
At the very moment the Zhao Clan’s Eldest Young Master died, word reached the Golden Hill Base.
“The young master’s life signal is gone. Before dying, he encountered a threat surpassing Five Extremes—likely the newly emerged Moon Plant.”
A middle-aged man stood with his hands behind his back, his expression grim. “A coincidence? The emergence of a Moon Plant is never entirely random. With Uncle Ling’s strength, he should have been able to escape.”
He paused, voice cold. “Investigate. Check if anyone else survived.”
“Yes, Clan Head.”
Having put some distance between himself and the Moon Plant, Wang Jie took refuge in an abandoned high-rise at the outskirts. Even from there, he could still see the colossal leaves twisting in the moonlight, devouring everything in their path.
He also had the severed finger of Uncle Ling—an Evil Person’s Severed Finger. That man had intended to use him as bait, revealing he was no paragon of virtue. Then again, in this apocalypse, who could claim to be a saint?
Certainly not Wang Jie himself.
Entering the ashen-gray void of his dimension, he placed Uncle Ling’s finger in front of the second green sprout. As expected, the sprout coiled around it, absorbing its essence.
Now, only the Heartbroken Maiden’s Tears remained to complete his goals.
*[No idea if Gray Claw is still alive.] He thought, leaning against the window and slowly closing his eyes to rest.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the building suddenly shook. Bolting awake, he peered outside.
A dark mass surged like a black ocean below.
[Rats?!]
A chill ran down his spine.
Of all dangers in the wilderness, two were the most dreaded: encountering an unstoppable Mutant Beast or getting caught in a Beast Tide. And Rat Tides were among the deadliest of them all. These mutated rodents attacked in frenzied swarms, fearless and voracious. If one failed to break through immediately, they would be devoured in a tide of gnashing teeth.
[Why are they rushing in this direction?]
Thankfully, they weren’t heading for the high-rise. Instead, the screeching horde thundered past, racing onward into the darkness.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, Wang Jie caught sight of something darting through the night behind the building. Heart pounding, he hurried to the rear window.
Above, the sky was a roiling black mass.
They were headed in the same direction as the Rat Tide.
No… [that’s toward the Golden Hill Base!]
A Beast Tide was upon them.
In the decade since the apocalypse began, Hua Xia had founded more than five major strongholds, many of which had fallen—some to formidable Mutant Plants and Beasts, but most to Beast Tides.
The Golden Hill Base had survived more than one Beast Tide before, largely thanks to Hong Sword—one of the Five Extremes—and the collective strength of its cultivators.
Now, another tide had arrived.
Taking a deep breath, Wang Jie gazed at the distant Moon Plant. It had grown larger. The memory of the Mutated Peacock arose in his mind, fueling a creeping sense of unease. [There’s a shift among the mutant creatures.]
Just then, a piercing screech shattered the night. A visible shockwave tore across the land, blowing out every window in its path. An invisible force hammered Wang Jie’s mind, nearly knocking him unconscious. He clutched the collapsing wall for support as the building groaned ominously.
Through a shattered window, he turned eastward.
Suspended in the sky was a massive bird with fiery wings. It screeched again, unleashing a second wave of psychic force.
[That cry… it’s the Mutated Eagle?!]
Of the mutant threats beyond Golden Hill Base, the Moon Plant was one, and the Mutated Eagle another. Yet until now, the eagle had never matched the Moon Plant’s power.
At this moment, the Mutated Eagle had nearly doubled in size.
While it might still fall short of the Moon Plant, it had now become a force of terrifying might in its own right.
And it was staking its claim.
A third screech reverberated through the night.
Centered around the Mutated Eagle, every mutant beast and mutant plant within dozens of miles seemed to stir, surging en masse—straight toward Golden Hill Base.
[This beast tide… is it under the eagle’s command?]
Wang Jie drew a ragged breath, trying to steady himself.
High above, a colossal shadow swept across the sky—the Mutated Eagle had taken flight, heading straight for Golden Hill Base. Watching it vanish into the distance, Wang Jie felt a twinge of concern. Could Hong Sword hold it at bay? It was hard to say.
Recalling the eagle’s triple screech, Wang Jie’s eyes narrowed. A single cry would have been enough to mobilize a beast tide, yet it had cried thrice—clearly signaling its intent to purge its territory of all other mutant beasts.
It was protecting something.
Wang Jie glanced once more at Golden Hill Base, then turned away, heading in the opposite direction—toward the Mutated Eagle’s former roost.
Meanwhile, the eagle’s deafening cries had already thrown Golden Hill Base into a state of high alert.
By the shores of Mysterious Lake, Hong Sword stood somberly, gazing eastward. “Activate First-Class Defense Measures.”
“Evacuate all civilians into the base—prioritize women and children for the air-raid shelters. Cultivators to the front, ordinary citizens behind…”
At his command, the entire Golden Hill Base sprang into action. Floodlights bathed the stronghold. Its gates swung open as those outside the walls rushed in. On the ramparts, cultivators gathered, their eyes locked onto the eastern sky.
Drones ascended for reconnaissance.
At the gates, members of the Zhao Clan Hunting Team were halted. First-Class Defense Measures meant a beast tide was imminent—a calamity where stepping beyond the walls was tantamount to suicide.
The earth trembled.
One by one, the drones went silent.
Golden Hill Base, one of Hua Xia’s Five Great Strongholds, revealed its might—tens of thousands of cultivators, armed to the teeth, forming an iron-clad defense atop the walls.
And yet, a deep unease clung to every soul in the city.
Suddenly, the waters of Mysterious Lake swirled into a raging vortex.
Hong Sword narrowed his eyes. “The eagle’s cries must have roused even the lake creatures.”
He raised his arm and struck. A whirlwind condensed into a single Wind Blade, slashing down into the lake and cleaving the vortex open. Moments later, crimson blood spread from the center as grotesque mutant fish thrashed to the surface, devouring one another in the churning water.
With a flick of his wrist, Hong Sword unleashed another Wind Blade, slicing the exposed creatures into ribbons. The lake stilled once more.
Eight Wind-Breaking Slashes—a fearsome blade technique.
In the Clean District, Old Five and Old Nine perched on a windowsill, staring anxiously into the distance.
“Boss hasn’t come back,” Old Five murmured.
“At times like this, maybe it’s safer to be outside,” Old Nine replied.
Cultivators raced through the streets. In the Materials District, stockpiles of Cataclysm Materials were distributed as wartime rations. Once the crisis ended, the base would tally the costs.
The tremors intensified.
“Look at the sky!” someone shouted.
From the horizon, a dark cloud swept forward, and the next moment, a barrage of black feathered arrows rained down upon Golden Hill Base.
“Engage defensive measures—now!” a man in black leather roared, a heavy gold chain clinking around his neck.
The city’s iron nets sprang up from the walls. Clang! Clang! Clang! Sparks showered as countless black feathers clashed against the layered metal grids. Although conventional firearms had become obsolete two decades ago, technology had not been abandoned. Beneath the seemingly archaic walls, hidden modern defenses absorbed the brunt of the attack.
Yet another menace advanced from below.
At the forefront, mutated rats swarmed to within a kilometer of the city. There, they began feverishly burrowing into the earth. Behind them loomed larger beasts—grotesque forms unknown to most cultivators.
In the distance, glowing orbs of yellow light arced through the sky, hurtling toward the base.
They came from a horde of mutated toads with lantern-like protrusions on their heads, each spewing flaming spheres that bombarded the city. At the same time, a writhing mass of mutated plants sent vines slithering up the walls.
From the ramparts, Feng Yu spotted the creeping vines. “They’re here,” she muttered, hurling a Feng Yu Dart that severed a vine attempting to breach the defenses. Behind her, several cultivators pressed their palms to the ground, releasing a surge of force that shook the city walls.
Then, the rain came—a sickly green rain blown in from the east.
“It’s the Acid Fish. Deploy drones to locate them!”
“Coordinates confirmed: an Artificial Lake, thirty miles northeast.”
“Form a strike team and clear them out before the rain worsens.”
This corrosive drizzle could dissolve stone. Within the city, those caught in it screamed in agony as flesh melted from their bones.
At the northwestern gate, a brawny man bit down on a cigar, exhaling a lazy ring of smoke. A wild grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Finally, a real fight. I was getting bored.” He turned to the cultivators behind him. “Let’s go!”
He led a squad of twenty beyond the walls, heading northwest toward a small lake about thirty miles away. There, green Acid Fish floated upright, spewing their corrosive liquid into the air. Dozens of massive birds hovered at the lake’s edge, whipping up gusts that carried the deadly mist toward Golden Hill Base.
And so, war arrived without warning.
Under a moonless sky, darkness reigned.
For both cultivators and ordinary people, every beast tide was a trial of survival—and despair.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation