Han’s entry into Black Mountain didn’t go unnoticed.


    He was too famous now—everyone in Black Cloud Town knew him. Every move he made drew immense attention, especially since he’d come straight from Taibai. Hiding his tracks? Easier said than done.


    Curious onlookers flocked to Taibai, only to find Bai Ruoyue and the others still there. Whispers spread like wildfire. Why had Han gone into Black Mountain alone? Was he honing his martial skills? Or chasing some treasure he’d gotten wind of?


    The recent earthquake had already piqued interest, and Han’s actions only fueled the buzz. Soon, another wave of people rushed into Black Mountain, determined not to be left behind. Some even had ulterior motives—treasure wasn’t their goal; people were.


    Han didn’t mind being spotted. So what if his presence was exposed? Even with the loosened restrictions on entering Black Mountain, the newcomers were mostly Day Roaming Bone Refiners. He wasn’t afraid of them. Strength gave him confidence. Besides, Black Mountain was vast—finding him in there would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.


    Once inside, Han pulled out his navigation artifact, pinpointed the nearest target location, and set off.


    “This earthquake’s a lot worse than the last one,” he muttered, weaving through the forest and scanning his surroundings.


    The landscape was a mess—ancient trees snapped in half, the ground split open with fissures. Outside Black Mountain, across the Yun River, the tremors had only rattled buildings lightly. But here, deep within, the destruction was far more severe. Bones buried for who-knows-how-long had been unearthed by the upheaval.


    Han moved swiftly. In the outer regions, with his current cultivation, he had little to fear. Even if wild beasts ganged up on him, he’d come out unscathed.


    That said, beasts were beasts—stubborn as ever. A Flesh Realm wild boar charged at him, snorting furiously, only to be sent flying with a single kick. It squealed like it was being butchered, scrambled to its feet, and bolted off into the woods.


    Han smirked but didn’t give chase. Beasts only fled when they sensed a real threat—survival instincts kicking in late. He’d held back on that kick—well, held his foot, really. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve ended the pig right there. But these low-tier creatures weren’t his target, nor could they harm him. No point in pointless slaughter.


    Flesh Realm beasts were useless to him anyway. Now, if it’d been something like that Three-Colored Deer he’d encountered before, he wouldn’t have let it slip away. Kill what needs killing, spare what doesn’t—he acted on instinct, no guilt weighing him down.


    As he pressed forward, occasionally checking his navigation tool, the beasts around him grew stronger. He’d reached the midsection of Black Mountain, where Visceral Realm creatures roamed freely.


    Here, Han dialed back his boldness. A swarm of Visceral Realm beasts could still pose a threat if their numbers piled up.


    Then he hit a snag—a cliff loomed ahead.


    The navigation artifact didn’t mark obstacles like this. Han eyed the cliff’s length. Detouring around it would mean a long, time-wasting loop. But going straight through? That meant dealing with the trouble waiting below.


    Yep, there was a beast down there. Its aura was strong—Bone Refining Realm, no doubt.


    The terrain, the situation—it reminded Han of his last trip into Black Mountain, chasing that Death Wraith Corpse. He sent his spiritual senses downward, and instantly, a piercing screech erupted. The beast below was alerted.


    A massive eagle soared up from the cliff’s depths, wings spanning nearly ten meters. Its sharp eyes glinted with bloodlust, exuding raw ferocity.


    In that same moment, the Sky Bow materialized in Han’s hands. As the eagle burst into view, an arrow streaked through the air, followed by two more in rapid succession. All three hit their mark, blood spraying as the eagle staggered mid-flight.


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    “Skreee!” it shrieked, eyes blazing with rage as it barreled toward Han.


    A blast of true essence erupted from its beak, obliterating every tree in its path. Dust and wind whipped up in a frenzy.


    Han drew Taibai from its sheath, the blade gleaming coldly. He stood his ground, locking eyes with the charging eagle.


    Shing!


    The sword slashed horizontally. The eagle’s talons—hard as steel and gleaming menacingly—lashed out. Those claws could shatter stone and grind metal to dust.


    But Taibai? A top-tier martial weapon.


    Boom!


    True qi clashed with true essence, the explosion leveling nearby trees and carving a crater into the earth. The cliff’s edge trembled, chunks of rock crumbling away.


    Whoosh!


    A magical sword shot from behind Han, aimed at the eagle now mere feet away. Its instincts screamed danger, and it twisted mid-air, but the blade still pierced through.


    Han seized the opening, slashing Taibai across the eagle’s belly. Flesh tore open, guts spilling out.


    The eagle wailed, flapping desperately to retreat, but Han leapt onto its back and yanked out the three Sky Arrows embedded in its body.


    It rolled wildly in the air, wings thrashing to shake him off. In seconds, it cleared the cliff—and Han, riding it, crossed over too.


    Eagle-riding hero!


    Whoosh!


    Yang Fire erupted across the eagle’s body. It plummeted, crashing into the ground with a thunderous boom, rolling helplessly as the flames fed on its robust vitality.


    Han drove Taibai through its skull, ending it. The fire burned briefly before he recalled it, leaving a tantalizing scent of roasted meat wafting through the air.


    Well-cooked.


    “An Lang, check its nest for any spiritual plants,” Han ordered, releasing the ghost girl and pointing her to task.


    “Got it,” An Lang replied, drifting down the cliff.


    Next, Han let Yinhe out of the beast pouch. The dog wagged its tail furiously as he gestured to the roasted eagle. “Barbecue’s on the menu today.”


    He’d brought Yinhe along specifically for this—fresh, firsthand beast meat. The black-and-white pup, ears perked and eyes sharp with intelligence, had grown noticeably bigger lately, thanks to a steady diet.


    Han sat down, pulled out a knife, and carved off a chunk of meat to eat. He’d been trekking for a while—time for a break and a bite. Bone Refining beast meat was just the thing to recharge.


    Yinhe gnawed away at its own corner, chomping happily without bothering Han. No seasoning, sure, but beast meat was naturally delicious—infused with heaven-and-earth vitality, maybe even flavored by spiritual plants. Unless it was some odd species, it was a gourmet treat. No parasites to worry about either.


    “Master, there’s nothing down there,” An Lang reported, floating back up.


    “No big deal. We didn’t come for that anyway.”


    While Han and Yinhe ate, An Lang, being a ghost, could only watch. Being dead had its perks—no grease, no meat, pure health guaranteed.


    Han finished, but Yinhe kept going. He dozed off for a bit, and the dog was still eating.


    “Alright, that’s enough. One meal’s not your whole day,” he said, grabbing Yinhe by the scruff, wiping its greasy face, and moving on.


    After more travel, he neared the first white dot on his map. Oddly, Visceral Realm beasts thinned out, replaced by more Bone Refining ones. He was in the midsection, edging toward the deeper zones where roars of powerful creatures echoed through the trees.


    Here, Han stayed cautious, keeping a low profile. He avoided Bone Refining beasts unless absolutely necessary—fights got loud, and noise drew attention. Last time’s snake-beast fiasco was a harsh lesson. Stealth was the game now.


    He checked the navigation artifact, frowning slightly. “The first spot that might have the Sky-Mending Vine is the closest, but it’s right on the border between the mid and deep sections. The rest are even farther in. Looks like going deeper is unavoidable.”


    An Lang, drifting beside him, piped up. “What if you get lucky and find it right here?”


    She’d been chatting with him on the trek to break the monotony.


    Han shook his head. “Not likely. Treasures like that either exist or they don’t. Luck doesn’t change facts.”


    At last, he reached the first white dot. Staying vigilant, he scoped out the destination from afar—a swamp.


    “Black Mountain’s got every terrain imaginable,” he mused.


    In the swamp, he sensed not one, but two powerful presences—cold, predatory, heavy. Bone Refining Realm, and top-tier at that. This place had owners.


    He didn’t dare probe with spiritual senses—too risky if they were sensitive to it. Instead, he hid and observed with his eyes.


    In a corner of the swamp, he spotted them.


    Hiss.


    Han sucked in a quiet breath.


    Two monstrous swamp pythons. The larger one stretched nearly thirty meters, the smaller around twenty. At their widest, they spanned several meters.


    A thirty-meter-long, multi-meter-wide python? If it reared up, it’d tower as high as a ten-story building from his past life—too big to even fit through some windows. That put it in perspective.


    Han rubbed his temples. What did this world’s beasts eat to get so massive? But that was the way of wild beasts. Unlike demons, who shrank as they gained intelligence and cultivated mystical powers, beasts grew bigger with each rank. Strength, vitality, raw physicality—that was their path.


    Bigger was better. Might was beauty.


    And pythons were already naturally huge.


    Han mulled over how to handle them, then beckoned An Lang closer.


    “See those two beasts?”


    She nodded.


    “Go take them out.”


    An Lang froze. “Huh? Me?”