Chapter 57: A Lone Ride into Golden Rooster Ridge
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Qin Ming felt a faint stirring in his chest as his gaze flicked toward the towering mountains where the Purple Lightning Beast had charged out. For a brief moment, he considered investigating, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Right now, his priority was to keep moving.
Deep within the mountain range, a man of about thirty-seven or thirty-eight stood on a rocky cliff. His blue robes billowed in the wind as his sharp eyes scanned the landscape below.
Across from him, on the slopes of a towering peak, white mist swirled like a veil. The hazy smoke and dawn-like hues covered much of the mountaintop. Through the fog, the silhouette of a high-level spiritual being emerged.
“The new City Lord of Red Glow City,” the man’s deep voice echoed. “Why have you come to my territory instead of heading to your post?”
“Passing through these lands,” the figure responded evenly, “I thought I’d pay my respects to the Mountain Lord.”
After racing for over ten miles, the Purple Lightning Beast began to grow restless. Its shimmering violet fur rippled with misty currents as it galloped erratically, making for a jarring ride. At times, it would abruptly slow, forcing an inexperienced rider to lose balance or even fall.
Qin Ming, however, wasn’t fazed. Seeing the creature’s rebellious antics once again, he pressed the Phoenix Pattern Long Blade he had placed across its neck down a fraction more. The sharp edge bit into its fur, severing a few glowing purple strands. A thin line of blood began to seep from the creature’s neck.
“You don’t want to carry me? Then I’ll send you on your way instead,” Qin Ming said with a calm but cutting tone.
He felt no guilt for his actions. After all, it was this beast that had lashed out first, its hoof narrowly missing his head earlier. An ordinary person would’ve been killed instantly.
“Either you behave, or you’re finished,” he added, pressing the blade once more. This time, the Purple Lightning Beast’s resolve broke. It let out a low growl, blood staining its glossy mane, before submitting. Silently, it picked up speed, galloping smoothly toward their destination.
Golden Rooster Ridge was now less than ten miles away.
As they raced through the chilly night, Qin Ming found himself lost in thought. Even without tapping into his Celestial Light Force, he could maintain perfect balance atop the beast, mastering its movements with ease. Riding bareback, without so much as a makeshift bridle, was no challenge for him.
Fleeting images surfaced in his mind—a scene of himself outside a grand city, racing on another extraordinary beast. That creature had been even more striking than the Purple Lightning Beast. Shaking his head, Qin Ming dispelled the memories.
Instinctively, he swung his long blade like a whip, the flat edge lightly tapping the beast’s flank. Mistaking the motion for another strike, the creature bolted forward, its speed doubling. It became a blur of violet light, streaking through the night like an arrow.
Golden Rooster Ridge came into view, its terrain glowing faintly even under the dark sky. Despite the late hour, the ridge was anything but dim. The fire springs scattered throughout the area gave off a fiery brilliance, their intensity nearing the levels found at Silver Vine Town.
The path leading up to the ridge was broad, flanked by dense forests. No signs of lurking aberrations could be seen. Even the boldest creatures avoided this place, knowing the ridge’s infamous bandits were not to be trifled with.
Yet Golden Rooster Ridge was quieter than usual. Its numbers had been severely depleted after their failed venture into the Great Canyon to seize rare resources. Many had perished there, devoured by the powerful aberrations that haunted those lands. Of the remaining thirty bandits, most were those left behind to guard the ridge—a group notoriously vicious.
As Old Liu had once said, “Those scoundrels left behind aren’t worth saving. You could cut them down a dozen times and still not feel bad.”
Qin Ming sheathed his long blade and reached for the stiff bow strapped to his back. Perched atop the Purple Lightning Beast, he charged toward the ridge, the glow of the fire springs illuminating his path.
The first to notice the intruder wasn’t a human bandit, but a mutated Golden Rooster stationed as a lookout. This twice-mutated creature, hiding in the trees, let out an ear-piercing cry: “Cluck-cluck-DAWK!”
Qin Ming wasted no time. His first iron arrow flew true, striking the bird’s head. With a soft thud, the arrow pierced its skull, silencing it instantly.
“What was that?” someone muttered groggily from within the bandit’s hideout.
The commotion roused the camp. A few of the older bandits, still half-drunk, scrambled to their feet, shouting, “We’re under attack!”
Chaos erupted as Qin Ming’s figure appeared on the road leading to the camp. He and the Purple Lightning Beast, bathed in a faint violet glow, tore through the darkness like a celestial force. The sheer momentum sent shockwaves through the air as they crashed toward the camp gates.
In the past, guards armed with bows and stationed on watchtowers would have defended the ridge. But Golden Rooster Ridge was now a shadow of its former self. Its remaining bandits had grown lazy, preferring to drink and gamble through the cold season.
The mighty gates of the bandit stronghold, though reinforced, were no match for the Purple Lightning Beast’s powerful hooves. With a thunderous crash, the gates splintered, and Qin Ming rode directly into the heart of the camp.
“Get up! We’re under attack!” The bandits scrambled in disarray, their drunken stupor giving way to panic.
The camp’s interior glowed brightly, lit by the fiery radiance of the nearby fire springs. It was a coveted stronghold, far superior to the surrounding villages.
Qin Ming cut an imposing figure atop his mount, clad in gleaming armor that caught the firelight. His helmet obscured most of his face, revealing only his eyes and the lower part of his face. To the bandits, he looked like a knight from legend, his silhouette wreathed in an otherworldly violet light.
Drawing his bow, Qin Ming fired a volley of arrows with precision. Each arrow streaked through the air like a bolt of icy lightning. Within moments, five bandits fell. Some were struck through the chest; others had arrows embedded in their foreheads before they could even react.
“Shoot him down! Counterattack!” one of the more alert bandits shouted, trying to rally the others. He raised a whistle to his lips, preparing to summon the remaining Golden Roosters.
But before the whistle could sound, Qin Ming loosed a heavy arrow. It struck the bandit squarely in the head, shattering his skull with brutal efficiency.
Under the fiery glow of the spring, the scene unfolded with startling clarity—blood splattered, and fragments of bone flew through the air, landing on the other bandits. The sheer brutality froze a few of them in place. But these were seasoned brigands, hardened by countless battles. Their hesitation lasted mere seconds before angry shouts erupted, and they retaliated with bows drawn and arrows loosed.
At that moment, five enormous golden roosters charged forward. Their massive wings spread wide, razor-sharp beaks snapping, and claws extended, aimed straight at the lone rider and his beast. Yet, the Purple Lightning Beast beneath Qin Ming was not to be trifled with. Forced into the mountains earlier, it was already brimming with pent-up fury. Now, under attack by these lesser creatures, it roared in rage—a sound that sent a shiver through the air.
The beast’s peculiar form—a horse-like head on a tiger’s muscular body—made it both swift and ferocious. Rearing onto its hind legs, it brought its mighty hooves crashing down. With a sickening crunch, one golden rooster’s head was pulverized, and another was crushed underfoot. Its jaws snapped shut around a third, its powerful teeth tearing through the creature’s neck, swiftly decapitating it.
Throughout the chaos, Qin Ming remained steady on the beast’s back, as though standing on solid ground. His posture didn’t waver, even as the Purple Lightning Beast leapt and reared. With calm precision, he drew his bow and let arrow after arrow fly. Each shot intercepted the incoming rain of enemy projectiles, his sharp aim pinning the bandits down.
Two prominent figures among the bandits had been watching from the shadows. They exchanged cautious glances but didn’t immediately act. They knew anyone bold enough to charge in alone must possess extraordinary skill. Yet, even they underestimated Qin Ming. Judging him by the strength of his arrows alone, they assumed he had reached his limit—a mistake they would soon regret.
One of the leaders finally stepped forward, drawing his bow and releasing a powerful shot. Qin Ming, with a flick of his iron arrow, deflected the incoming projectile in a burst of sparks. The display of skill left the bandit leaders grim-faced, realizing their misjudgment too late. Without hesitation, Qin Ming returned fire, his arrow finding its mark. Though the two leaders dodged in time, the young man beside them wasn’t as lucky. The arrow pierced his skull, and he crumpled to the ground without a sound.
The bandit leader who had fired the shot let out an enraged roar. The slain youth had been someone close to him. Fueled by fury, he raised his weapon and prepared to attack. But Qin Ming’s response was swift and unrelenting. One arrow after another flew with deadly accuracy, cutting down bandits left and right. Within moments, the Golden Rooster Ridge had lost over half of its thirty men.
Seizing the momentum, Qin Ming spurred the Purple Lightning Beast forward. Stowing his bow, he gripped a sharp lance in his hands. The sight of the lone rider charging toward them sent waves of terror through the remaining bandits. His mount, with its savage strength, trampled mutated golden roosters as though they were nothing. And Qin Ming himself, clad in armor that gleamed coldly under the fiery light, seemed like a god of war. His gaze alone made their knees tremble.
Reaching a cluster of wooden huts, Qin Ming struck. His lance thrust forward with explosive force, shattering a hut into splinters. Two men stumbled out, panic etched on their faces. They raised their blades in desperation, but their efforts were futile. Qin Ming’s lance flashed like lightning, piercing them both in rapid succession. Blood sprayed as he urged his mount onward, now heading straight for the two bandit leaders.
Behind him, the Purple Lightning Beast rose again, its hooves smashing another hut to pieces. Qin Ming’s instincts flared—a rush of air warned him of an attack from behind. He spun, his lance meeting the strike of an older bandit mounted on a massive golden rooster. This was no ordinary foe; the bandit was a three-time awakener, and his mutated mount had undergone three transformations as well.
“Interesting,” Qin Ming murmured, his eyes narrowing. “Golden Rooster Ridge has some tricks up its sleeve to produce such creatures.”
The old bandit attacked relentlessly, his blade slashing through the air. But Qin Ming’s lance danced with incredible speed, creating a web of shadows that deflected every strike. With a sharp thrust, the lance pierced the golden rooster, creating multiple gaping wounds. The beast collapsed, lifeless. The bandit tried to retreat, but Qin Ming’s weapon struck true. The lance drove through the man’s chest, lifting him off his mount before flinging his lifeless body into another hut. The crash startled the occupants, who scrambled back in fear.
Without pause, Qin Ming guided his mount toward the remaining bandit leaders. The Purple Lightning Beast slowed its pace, its heavy breathing punctuating the tense silence. The two leaders, grim-faced, stepped forward, drawing their weapons—a broad sword and a long lance. But before they could attack, a shadow moved behind Qin Ming. Another old bandit, silent and swift, lunged from the darkness, aiming to catch Qin Ming off guard.
Qin Ming didn’t flinch. With his lance still pointed at the leaders, he reached over his shoulder with his free hand. The Phoenix Pattern Long Blade flashed as he drew it, its edge glinting like lightning. In a single stroke, the ambusher’s sword was sent flying, clattering twenty meters away. The blade didn’t stop there. It continued its arc, slicing through the night air with terrifying speed. The old bandit’s cry was cut short as the blade cleaved through his shoulder, leaving him lifeless before he hit the ground.
The two remaining leaders stared, their confidence crumbling. Another three-time awakener had fallen. And yet, Qin Ming hadn’t even broken a sweat. Slowly, he turned his gaze toward them, his weapons gleaming in the firelight. The battlefield grew deathly silent as the Purple Lightning Beast let out a low, menacing growl. It was clear: their doom was inevitable.