In the deep bamboo grove, mist curled and drifted.
Chen Yu visited Yang Hongli’s bamboo cottage, but no one was there. Only the cultivators passing along the bamboo path knew that his senior brother had been staying these past few days in a simple green-tiled courtyard beside the lotus pond.
The art of formations is hard to learn and harder to master. Copying the outward shape of an array without understanding its deeper principles is ultimately just a hollow show.
Once one becomes truly proficient, even within the fiercely competitive Three Origins Sect there will be respectable positions and stipends to be had.
Someone like Yang Hongli, so young yet with formation skills near those of an elder, need never worry about spirit stones.
When he wanted solitude he returned to the bamboo cottage to seclude himself, and when he wanted bustle he rented a green-tiled courtyard to experience life’s variety.
He was absurdly wealthy.
After finding the courtyard, Chen Yu was quickly led inside by a child and met Yang Hongli, along with the protective magic formation he needed.
Yang Hongli handed the formation diagram into his hands and said with interest, “Here it is, the Eight-Gate Golden Lock Array. It borrows the principles of Qimen Dunjia and adapts the oddities of formation art, so it differs in essence from mundane array techniques.”
“The array’s principles aren’t complicated, but the manifestation level of those five gates depends on the formation foundation. It’s best to arrange it using high-quality Gray Gravel Crystals for optimal effect.”
“Even against mid-to-late stage cultivators it can hold for a time.”
“I also took your suggestion, junior brother. To keep the formation stable I replaced the talismans with more durable Jade Talismans, and adjusted the engraving slightly.”
“With this, it should meet your requirements.”
Stability had indeed improved, but Chen Yu estimated that for the Eight-Gate Golden Lock Array, both the formation foundation and the Jade Talismans would need much larger Gray Gravel Crystals to reach peak performance.
Every single Gray Gravel Crystal used here could serve as the core of a Goblin Ripper, and an array like this required as many as twenty-seven of them.
That’d be enough to assemble twenty-seven Goblin Rippers—pulling that many out at once would hurt.
But one Eight-Gate Golden Lock Array could shelter an entire fortress. To strengthen fortress defenses and guard against goblin raids, saving on those Gray Gravel Crystals was not an option.
Chen Yu expressed his thanks and reached for his spirit stones, but Yang Hongli politely refused payment, only asking that if he encountered any more interesting problems, he remember to bring them to him.
It was clear this senior brother was truly devoted to the Dao.
“A good man indeed,” Chen Yu murmured.
Afterward he asked more about formation principles until his questions were satisfied, then left.
He walked to the market by the lotus pond, which was much livelier than on rainy days.
He went to the usual alchemy shop where he normally bartered pills for food and inquired about alchemy.
He learned that alchemy was no less difficult than formations.
Formation art requires talent to grasp, while alchemy requires knowledge of materia medica, flame control, and object manipulation... The body of knowledge about medicinal pills is as vast as the stars;
one studies it for life. It places great emphasis on seniority and experience.
Chen Yu didn’t expect to become a master overnight, so he bought a few basic medicinal texts: materia medica summaries, an alchemy primer, beginner pill recipes, and a rubbing copy of flame-control techniques.
To his surprise, alchemy not only required flame control, it also made use of object manipulation. The proficiency of object manipulation could even affect pill quality.
He hadn’t realized object manipulation could exert such influence.
Whenever he thought object manipulation might be fading in usefulness, it reappeared in new forms.
This technique was a universal tool of Dao arts—arguably the most valuable path to practice he had chosen.
Besides, he had long since maxed his object manipulation, which saved him a lot of effort.
For pill formulas he chose the Bone-Tempering Yellow Pill because it had potent medicinal properties yet was easier for beginners.
With Yano’s near-knightly constitution, no matter how much he experimented there wouldn’t be serious harm. In fact, because the formula was strong it would speed up his body tempering.
In addition to the Bone-Tempering Yellow Pill recipe, he bought a recipe for a Spirit-Opening Pill.
Cultivators who raise spirit demons often, if they want the beasts to awaken intelligence and speak human language sooner, bite the bullet and feed them Spirit-Opening Pills.
They have the same effect as the Qian Yuan Spirit Nurturing Art in terms of opening awareness, but they can only open intelligence;
they cannot enrich spirituality or fully tame wild instincts.
Speaking practically, most of the mouths to feed in his territory were slimes, Poison-stinger Wasps, and Beetles... wild instincts weren’t the main worry. If they could just stop being so adorable, that would be enough.
Worrying about wildness was ridiculous.
With his limited energy, once he scaled Spirit-Opening Pill production, he wouldn’t need to painstakingly feed each creature one by one.
Though basic, the pills had obvious strategic importance.
After casually buying a few martial arts manuals at the market, Chen Yu left.
...
Riftrock Fortress.
When the final streak of sunset swept across the endless distant woods, two Wasp Watchtowers had already silently risen on the wall facing the goblin stronghold. Like motionless sentries, they looked grim and fierce in the dusk.
After a full day of busy construction, the fortress’s military facilities and the Spirit Gathering Array had begun to take shape.
Perhaps within these next two days this forward fortress would be completed and then expand outward, growing into a stronghold able to house a wasp legion of over a thousand Wasp Soldiers and many more slimes.
Chen Yu had just finished translating those martial texts, converted them into the Common Tongue and sent them to Yano, then bounced down from the wall.
The other items—the Eight-Gate Golden Lock Array plans, the pill recipes and alchemy books—he had already transmitted back to the Eastern Swamp via the gel network.
Little Flower received the knowledge and was busy copying and compiling it, soon placing the results onto the little bookshelf in the Slime Academy that held knowledge and wisdom, for Slime Scholars to study.
Having done all that, Chen Yu was excited to begin learning and practicing alchemy.
He had even carefully selected spirit herbs whose properties matched the pill records;
everything seemed ready.
Then he realized he’d overlooked something.
Where would he find an alchemy furnace?
Without an alchemy furnace to focus fire, a chef without cookware can’t cook a dish no matter how skilled they are.
Unless he didn’t need to concentrate flame at all.
Recollecting that, he soon remembered the magma channel the Anvil had left running in the mining area.
Magma couldn’t provide the same focused fire as an alchemy furnace, but it had violent heat.
According to Xu Xuan Heaven’s sources, magma counted as the earthly fire alchemists dreamed of: fierce and powerful. With magma you could refine pills without a furnace.
Not only feasible, pills refined with earthly fire had higher success rates and better quality.
“Right, I forgot the dwarf left me this treasure,” Chen Yu said, his small eyes brightening.
He birthed a little slime with a soft plop and left it to guard the fortress, then bounded toward the passage leading down to the dungeon and returned to the mining area.
The Obsidian Mining Area had originally been controlled by goblins at Riftrock Pass;
the central mine lay within the pass.
Riftrock Fortress was not far from the pass;
the portion of the mine controlled by the Slime Kingdom lay almost directly beneath the fortress.
Chen Yu bounded through the maze-like tunnels and soon, passing the familiar stronghold, heard Beetles industriously extracting ore.
He had returned to the mining area.
The forging area was empty.
The Anvil and the little Earth Elementals had already returned to the Eastern Swamp. Only unfinished metal components were scattered on the stone table, their cold hard sheen reflected in the red glow of the magma channel.
They looked like upgraded versions of Earth Elemental armor, but more complete.
Chen Yu remembered the Goblin Ripper-Type II he’d given the Slime Scholar for study.
This dwarf, after fighting the Formation Company, had kept complaining that artillery power was insufficient. To improve the Earth Elemental tanks, he had apparently cooperated with the Slime Academy on a project.
He wondered how far the progress had advanced.
His gaze passed over a huge beast-skin chair nearby. He had intended to sit and read while waiting for the Poison-stinger Wasps to deliver the spirit herbs needed for alchemy.
But before he could approach, a strong stench of sweat hit him.
Had this fellow been leaning on the chair to rest after every forging session?
Chen Yu abandoned the idea of sitting, found a cool dry corner, flattened himself out like a puddle, and closed his eyes.
His consciousness plunged into the sea of alchemical knowledge.
While he busied his mind with new knowledge, his split-body was not idle: a bat slime was on its way to deliver an airdrop to Sekashi.
At the foot of the snowy mountain, the bat slime beat its wings hard to lift its plump body out of gravity, floating over a sparse coniferous forest as it flew toward the mountain.
Around it, Beetles spread their elytra and hauled supplies many times their size. The sacks contained a jumble of items: anti-cold potions, Magic Leaves for instant shields, rations Sekashi needed, a finely crafted wand made by elves, and cold-resistant leather armor carefully stitched by Glimmerlings.
The armor balanced warmth and protection well—suitable gear for the snowfields.
On the formation’s outer ranks flew several massive Wasp Guards, responsible for protecting the whole team.
The bat slime flew over, curiously observing the terrain so different from the swamp.
Closer to the southern slopes of the mountain, the tall swamp trees thinned and gave way to stubborn Carter spruce and fir.
The ground was covered with fuzzy reindeer moss and lichens, with occasional low shrubs. Only near the Reed Riverbank’s wet soil did hardy cold-tolerant grasses like goat-beard grass and alpine cotton grow thickly.
A brown bear paddled in the river, slapping the water and clutching a silver-scaled salmon to its maw.
Downstream on a shallow bank, a herd of snow-step ponies lowered their heads to drink. Several snow buntings suddenly flitted up from a tussock, their wing tips skimming the water and sending out ripples that broke the silence.
The monster team rested on boulders when tired, hunted to replenish energy, and then continued.
Gradually snow began to fall, landing on the bat slime’s gel with a chill, melting into droplets.
The gray-green ground cover turned to white snow, and the high, towering mountain loomed close.
“Oh…”
The small group of monsters watched the alien scene with awe and curiosity.
The bat slime spied the twin peaks Sekashi had mentioned and, after making them out, continued inward.
...
Behind the lee slope of Mount Buda, a sharp arrow cut through the drifting snow, whistling as it struck a running shape and sank into it.
A snow hare kicked its legs, blood staining the white snow, and soon lay still.
Not far off, two figures approached. Semiaya skillfully retrieved the arrow, stripped the hare’s pelt with a wolf-tooth knife, rolled it and hung it at her waist.
She then butchered the meat and handed a bloody chunk to Sekashi behind her.
“Eat.”
“Thank you, sister.” Sekashi carefully accepted the raw meat and swallowed it.
The swamp environment is damp and making fire is difficult;
lizardfolk often eat raw and drink blood as custom, so she felt nothing amiss.
Moreover the wild tribe’s firewood stores were low;
in this icy wilderness making fire was a luxury, and getting something cooked was not easy.
After eating until half satisfied, Sekashi wiped the blood from her mouth and felt a sudden craving for roasted moss monster meat.
Although she had already completed the first three trials, gaining recognition to enter the Snow Eagle Sanctuary remained difficult.
She needed to prepare more, such as additional dried rations for the journey.
Food in this barren snowplain was always the scarcest and most precious resource.
She remembered the envoy’s talk of “airdrops” and secretly hoped for one.
If they could solve the tribe’s food shortage and prepare supplies for the trip to the Snow Eagle Sanctuary, she could set out at once.
“I remember there was another warren of snow hares ahead,” Semiaya said.
Sekashi nodded and slung her herb-filled pack tighter, following.
Unfortunately, when they reached the spot they’d marked earlier, there were no signs of life—seemingly a wasted trip.
Sekashi felt disappointed, but keen-eyed Semiaya seemed to notice something and signaled her to crouch, pointing forward.
Squinting, Sekashi saw a brown flicker in the distant snow forest, appearing and disappearing as something moved over uneven ground.
Brown fur, white mane, antlers branching like twigs...
“It’s... an adult snow elk?!” Sekashi’s voice held surprise.
This year had been colder than usual;
animals were scarce on the plain. Encountering a snow elk was astonishing luck.
A mature male elk could weigh five to six hundred pounds—enough to feed the tribe for days.
But snow elk were highly wary;
even while feeding their ears and eyes remained alert, making them hard to approach.
As Semiaya considered how to close the distance, Sekashi whispered, “Sister, leave it to me.”
Her scales turned icy cold, a layer of white ice crystals forming over them, blending her body perfectly with the snow.
From a distance, her camouflage was indistinguishable.
This was the effect of the Ice-Scaled trial: the disguise was presentational, but the ice layer also provided protection and increased the damage of claw strikes.
After Semiaya nodded, Sekashi crouched and crawled forward step by step toward the feeding elk.
When she was within ten meters, the elk detected something and lifted its head warily.
But it was too late—Sekashi had already resonated with the Ice Elemental’s power.
Icicle Spire.
A faceted ice spire shot forth and pierced the elk’s skull.
It gave a pathetic cry and stumbled only a short distance before collapsing, its snow-shod hooves twitching, eyes grown dim.
Sekashi showed joy and turned to look for Semiaya.
Suddenly she heard the sound of animals running in the snow forest and a few puzzled orc voices.
“There’s movement over there, go check it out!”