Chapter 10: Murderous Intent in the Night

A sharp whistle pierced the air—a single arrow split the void, instantly freezing a red giant who stood sentinel atop the cliff. The giant, frozen solid, toppled over and crashed down onto a protruding stone platform below, shattering into countless icy fragments. Its vitality was formidable; a blow alone would not have killed it, but the fall from such a height left no room for survival.

With that arrow, a prelude to carnage unfurled beneath the cloak of night, and the entire canyon stirred restlessly.

The red giants of the lower hollow, previously singing and dancing, witnessed the corpse of their companion plummet from above. Rage ignited them; they seized their primitive weapons, prowling and snarling like hungry wolves, eyes sweeping every shadow.

But in the darkness, their adversaries melted further into concealment. As the giants searched in vain, another arrow flashed through the night. This time, a hulking figure—three meters tall—leapt up and smashed it to splinters with a bone club. The red giants immediately spotted the group who had revealed themselves with that shot in the right-side canyon, erupting in furious bellows.

“That’s not the same ice archer who fought us before. It’s a similar icy power, but even stronger,” Ji Yao murmured.

“What’s he trying to do?” Nie Renxiong asked, puzzled.

“He’s pulling the monsters our way,” Chen Longshi said, equally surprised. “But not to kill them—he’s trying to sic them on others.” The hapless group now targeted was beside themselves with fury, but the archer was impossibly fast; though several gave chase, he eluded them with ease.

“Eh, is he heading our way now?” Jiang Yuner asked, suspicion in her voice.

Zhang Liyuanqing licked his lips, a chilling smile curling up. “No need to wonder, little sister. He’s a troublemaker, trying to use the red giants to clear the field. Compared to the other archer who ran, his methods are far more cunning; few can match that footwork alone.”

“We should fall back,” Chen Longshi advised.

Zhang Liyuanqing was taken aback. “Why retreat? With your strength, he’s no threat to us.” In his mind, if you could win, you should fight head-on and put the arrogant in their place.

“Retreat!” Chen Longshi repeated firmly. “The Star Spirit Fruit still needs time to ripen.”

Without further explanation, he led the group swiftly into the nearby stone forest. Ji Yao and the others followed immediately, leaving Zhang Liyuanqing grimacing in frustration before slapping a rock and trailing after them.

From among the red giants emerged a towering chief, a beast’s skull hanging at his neck. From his cave, he fetched a crude bow fashioned of bone, took aim, and loosed arrows that streaked through the air like missiles.

Everyone flinched. He fired in rapid succession—clearly imitating human weapons, but with the raw ingenuity of the natives. Compared to their use of star sigils, these primitives had a certain edge; Earth’s people were still the apprentices.

The arrows struck the stone walls with explosive force, sending shards flying—each impact rivaled a grenade. Those humans who failed to dodge were impaled, their bodies torn apart in a spray of blood, left barely clinging to life as they were hurled away.

Those who survived in the dimensional wilds were all hardened killers. The targeted group was no exception; they seized the moment, weapons raised in fierce counterattack. Star-energy snipers and archers lit up the night with their skills, beams streaking from above to pick off the giant, exposed targets below. This terrain was paradise for ranged fighters.

Star bolts and arrows rained down, felling several red giants, who collapsed with no further movement.

But the giants were no fools. After their initial confusion, they hefted black bone shields and charged, roaring up the cliffs in a blink.

Clashes erupted swiftly, but the outcome was nearly one-sided: even with superior gear, the humans were being driven back at every turn.

Still, that team refused to retreat. Though they’d despised the archer’s tactics moments before, now they mimicked him—luring the monsters toward the examinees hiding in the forest.

Within the stone forest, Chen Longshi’s group watched the unfolding chaos with tense focus, only to spot a determined group slipping in from another direction—it was the team of the ice archer. Splitting into three squads, they closed in from all sides.

“Courting death!” Zhang Liyuanqing spat. “Do they think the death quota is for show?” Born to privilege and used to deference, he was not one to take provocation lightly—especially now, separated and pressed by a swarm of foes.

Chen Longshi cautioned, “Stay alert. Be ready to fight at a moment’s notice!”

This time, Zhang Liyuanqing ignored him, darting deeper into the stone maze until he vanished. Ji Yao grabbed the impetuous Jiang Yuner, reining in her reckless charge. Nie Renxiong, sensing the danger, slipped to one side, the faint aurora barely illuminating the shifting shadows—his nerves stretched taut.

“What now?” Ji Yao asked.

Chen Longshi measured the distance from the forest to the cliff, a plan forming swiftly. “An early battle doesn’t serve our interests, even if we win. Since they’re so energetic, let’s give the red giants something to chase.” With that, he jabbed his spear beneath a boulder and sent it soaring into the air, tracing a perfect arc to land squarely among the giants.

Pandemonium erupted as the monsters howled and charged toward the stone forest.

The team searching within saw it all, cursing furiously. Song Yuanxian, the archer, even allowed himself a wry smile. “Interesting—such decisive use of the tiger to swallow the wolf. That’s no ordinary opponent. Yuan Ying, it’s no shame to have lost; even I might not have won.”

Song Yuanying protested, “Cousin, there are few at school stronger than you. That guy just has a tricky throwing knife, but its range is limited. I underestimated him. If I’d kept my distance, I could have run him to death.”

“Enough talk. This place isn’t ideal for archery. Stay close, don’t get separated. If trouble comes, call for help immediately.”

“Yes.”

Somehow, Chen Longshi’s group had also vanished.

Two persistent searchers, wary of attack from either side, suddenly found a spear thrust between their heads. The metal shaft buzzed as it spun, blossoming into deadly flowers, and thudded into their skulls.

A muffled groan—struck so hard, they had no chance to react before collapsing unconscious, blood streaming from their ears. Chen Longshi had not held back.

Nie Renxiong rushed out and swiftly searched them, retrieving several star cores. Last time he’d let them go; this time, he made no such concession.

After confiscating their supplies, he activated their star disks—a protective measure from the academy. Whether it would hold until rescue arrived was up to fate; perhaps their teammates would find them.

He had done all he could. The times had changed; even though the military academy preached teamwork and resisting invaders, self-interest was inevitable. Such people were a liability—better they not disgrace the academy further.

The labyrinthine stone forest, now swarming with giants, grew ever more treacherous as battles erupted nearby.

With Chen Longshi’s keen senses leading, his group evaded unnecessary fights and struck only when they must. They darted nimbly through the chaos, the vast forest seeming their private garden.

Song Yuanxian, too, sensed their space shrinking as they encountered several fallen comrades. His expression darkened; he ordered everyone to regroup.

Elsewhere, Chen Longshi’s party shifted again.

Under the aurora, two hulking forms emerged. Chen Longshi signaled for battle and crept up behind them. The two red-skinned natives, brandishing torches, snarled as a flash of cold light streaked out—his spear pierced skin and bone with a chilling crunch.

Though the red giants were strong, Chen Longshi’s blow was relentless—tens of tons of force tearing through throat and spine alike.

A spray of blood hit the companion’s face. The surviving giant swung his massive club, smashing stone to powder. Ji Yao and Jiang Yuner struck together—Ji Yao parried the club, stalling the giant’s attack, while Jiang Yuner seized the opening to cleave its head with a crimson slash.

Nie Renxiong, a step slow, groused, “Yuner, your sword is too sharp.”

“That’s because you’re too slow! My swordsmanship is top-notch, thank you very much.”

Ji Yao chided, “Yuner, you were too reckless. Charging in for the kill without caution—what if you’d been counterattacked?”

“Hehe, but I had you with me, cousin. I’m more careful when I’m alone,” Jiang Yuner giggled.

Their camaraderie was light, even playful, as they paused to catch their breath. Yet Chen Longshi waited for the familiar sensation of devouring to surge within him. The monstrous corpses offered far richer sustenance than insects—but this time, the power was overwhelming, and his face paled.

Suddenly, a cry echoed in his mind—a primal note, as if the world’s first newborn wailed at the dawn of creation, announcing a new life’s arrival.

“Devourer Demon” awakened—100%.

It had awakened—at this very moment.

Within his consciousness, the nine-petaled violet lotus still blazed, but now, upon its once-empty petals, a strange face took shape: smoky-grey skin, an orange hue, and plump topknots like a Buddha’s crown. Its eyes half-open, half-closed, mouth agape to reveal four pointed baby teeth.

“Hungry…”

A stabbing hunger flooded his mind; Chen Longshi felt as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

He knew this uninvited guest was placed in him with purpose—his life would now be forever changed. Yet, he felt no revulsion for it. Instead, a strange sense of belonging welled up—this ferocious, oddly adorable creature felt like a part of his very flesh. Who could hate their own body?

The little creature blinked open its eyes and instantly spotted the nine-petaled violet lotus—the soul’s treasure. Its four baby teeth gnawed at the lotus, but to no avail. The lotus shivered and sent the creature tumbling away.

“So hungry, Master…”

The creature darted madly about his mind, but found nothing edible. Suddenly, it dissolved into a wisp of smoke and shot from his consciousness. Chen Longshi felt a cool energy racing through his body, up and down, burrowing in places it shouldn’t…

His expression grew stranger still as he tried to communicate with it mentally.

But its intelligence was limited; all it could do was wail, “Hungry,” oblivious to his intent.

At last, the little demon followed his left arm and spread to his palm, as if seeking to break free. Chen Longshi’s palm tingled unbearably. Looking down, he watched as the lines in his white palm shifted and swelled, forming a grotesque demonic visage: hollow eyes, a mouth with four sharp baby teeth, opening wide over the two red giant corpses below.

An invisible force of devouring burst forth. As a devourer of souls, even in its infancy, its power was irresistible.

The lingering souls of the corpses were drawn out, wisping into smoke and swept up by the demon’s jaws. Its baby teeth tore mercilessly, a crunching sound echoing in Chen Longshi’s mind.

The souls, formless and unseen, were invisible to his comrades, but to him, the scene was vivid.

The red giants’ remnant spirits struggled desperately, but in vain. With a final crunch, the grey smoke slipped back into his palm, and all returned to normal. Looking down, Chen Longshi saw new, strange lines etched into his palm—a simplified image of that fierce little demon.

“What’s wrong? You look pale,” Nie Renxiong, ever observant, caught the change. The two girls stopped their banter, turning to him in concern.

Forcing a laugh, Chen Longshi replied, “It’s nothing. Let’s leave the stone forest and head for the cliff’s edge.”