Chapter 6: The Stardust Fruit

Though she was light, supple, and pleasing to the touch, she was simply too young—likely not yet sixteen. In his previous life, Chen Longshi had debuted while still a teenager, and the type of women he encountered most were girls of this age. Now, counting both lives together, his mental age was well over thirty. He had no interest in playing childish games.

“You can let go now.”

Jiang Yun’er, inexperienced and somewhat naïve, tended to mumble when she spoke. Yet she was not ordinary; upon hearing this, she quickly let go, her face flushing red as her eyes darted about, lost in thought.

“Hurry up and follow.”

The cold words startled her, and she saw Chen Longshi darting through the woods like a bat. She bit her lip, set aside her wandering thoughts, and hurried after him, calling out, “Don’t leave me behind!”

Nie Renxiong and Ji Yao’s landing sites were not far apart, and thanks to Chen Longshi’s extraordinary memory, they soon regrouped.

Safely landing was the first hurdle, and everyone was relieved. Ji Yao first confirmed that Jiang Yun’er was unharmed, then took a small ball from her tactical pack, dropped it to test gravity, and quickly calculated, “Gravity acceleration is 1.6g, and oxygen in the air reaches 35%—the peak of the Carboniferous period.”

“The Carboniferous? When was that?” Jiang Yun’er asked, wide-eyed.

“About three hundred million years ago,” Nie Renxiong answered. “Such high oxygen levels favor the development of terrestrial life. It means the climate is warm and humid, with swamps everywhere—perhaps even giant insects.”

“Why do you say that? What’s your evidence?” Jiang Yun’er pressed.

Nie Renxiong shrugged. “No evidence, just speculation. The Carboniferous is also known as the Age of Giant Insects—centipedes grew to two meters forty, dragonflies as big as eagles. There could be enormous mosquitoes or scorpions over a meter long.”

“You’re not a military academy student, are you? How did you get in?” Jiang Yun’er blinked.

“You guess.”

With time to spare, the group searched for map landmarks, taking in the immense primeval forest canyon before them. It was wilder and more ancient than any forest seen outside. Towering trees, lush and tangled, seemed to be tropical evergreens and broadleaf, but each bore strange vines. The air was thick with humidity; the temperature was above thirty-five degrees Celsius. Every breath was hot and sticky against their skin, uncomfortable.

Bright flowers dotted the forest, their pollen grains conspicuous and full, with a gritty texture like fine sand. Among the flora, odd little insects and lizards scurried about. Occasionally, the blossoms folded silently and trembled violently before settling.

The leaves were mostly sharp and serrated, ferns abundant everywhere. Though no great threat was visible yet, the piles of dung hinted at the creatures’ massive size. In the distance, cries echoed—animal, maybe even plant.

There was nothing left of the familiar Shennong Forest; all were awed by their first immersion in this ancient realm. Even with a provided map, escape seemed unlikely. Those who thought the trial would be simple were destined for disappointment.

This was nothing like classroom study; even the calmest were unsettled by their first taste of the wild. Only Chen Longshi remained impassive, plunging coldly into the dense woods.

Inside, he was far more excited than he appeared—a contradictory feeling, both familiar and strange. Yet his mind was sharp; as he walked, he observed every creature, searching for anything recognizable.

The parachute drop zone had clearly been developed and was relatively safe; beyond it, the paths multiplied abruptly.

Chen Longshi hesitated, then democratically offered, “Here are three paths. I’ll give you a chance to choose.”

Jiang Yun’er was not so easily fooled. “Hmph, just admit you don’t know the way—no need to pretend to be generous.” Her eyes sparkled. “But it’s no trouble. Watch this.”

She drew her fingers across her eyes, and suddenly, stars flickered in her clear pupils. “The left path has the most human traces, the right the least, but the most beast tracks. The middle has a fair number of both. I suggest we take the left.”

Chen Longshi mused, “Spirit Eye, is it? Well, then, let’s go right.” He strode ahead.

“Hey, the left—so much for democracy!”

Jiang Yun’er protested, but her sister followed eagerly, and Nie Renxiong, though sympathetic, shrugged helplessly.

Deeper in the secret forest, marvelous plants and animals amazed them.

Bones were scattered on the ground, several meters long—clearly upright creatures, but not human. The skull was prominent, forelimbs sharp and short, hind legs robust, the spine bristling with spikes, and a long tail lay among the remains.

Finally, Chen Longshi found something familiar and smiled. “Found something good.”

“What good thing?” Jiang Yun’er, ever the supporter, asked.

“It’s a Starvine—there may even be Starfruit.” No sooner had he spoken than he sensed something terrifying beneath the soil, like a needle piercing his brow. He quickly reached out with his spirit sense. “No, move aside!”

He signaled for combat, and everyone instantly readied their weapons. Ji Yao seized the slower Jiang Yun’er and pulled her back.

A thunderous roar! A huge section of earth erupted, and a monstrous maw broke through, filled with jagged interlocking teeth. Rows of compound eyes sat atop its head, terrifying to behold. It was clearly a type of giant centipede, yet its vast, flat body soared through the air, darting forward.

Chen Longshi stopped at once, his mind rapidly assembling a series of unique star runes, forming a crystalline six-point star shield in midair before the centipede.

Bronze-tier Star Skill: Counter-Shield, cast instantly.

The centipede crashed into the shield—bang!—which shuddered for several seconds before shattering. Chen Longshi lunged, spear blazing like a meteor, and struck the centipede’s head.

Meteor Spear activated, the well-prepared strike pierced the compound eye, but the carapace was unexpectedly thick—only a few inches penetrated, causing limited damage.

He immediately switched from thrust to sweep, destroying a swath of compound eyes. Green blood sprayed onto nearby leaves, sizzling and releasing thick, pungent smoke.

“Such poisonous insects.”

Wounded, the monster landed and let out a shrill screech, shaking everyone’s minds. Ji Yao, Nie Renxiong, and the others, who had been ready to assist, staggered, faces pale, their attacks halted.

“Damn, it even has crowd-control abilities!”

Once grounded, the centipede moved twice as fast as in the air, instantly breaching the space and lunging at them.

At the critical moment, the purple lotus in Chen Longshi’s mind stirred, clearing the dizziness. Star radiance flashed at his feet—Instant Step lifted him several meters into the air. He twisted midair and, spear blazing, struck again with Meteor Spear, pinning the beast.

Repeating his strategy, he exposed the centipede’s soft belly. In his perception, the segmented armor was clearly defined.

Finally, he unleashed his most powerful attack. Eighteen star runes spun swiftly in his mind, star energy linking the symbols. Star–Moon Chain Slash.

This was the benefit of having mastered the Soul Sutra: previously, this move required three to five seconds to charge; now, he assembled the rune array in just one.

Using his spear as a blade, several crescent-shaped slashes danced through the air, slicing the centipede’s belly into segments.

The creature let out a miserable screech, thrashed on the ground, but it was futile.

Chen Longshi sighed in relief. Turning to the others, he whistled and said, “Ambushed me… Not worried at all. In fact, I almost felt sleepy.”

The battle had looked easy, but in truth was fraught with danger. Had he hesitated, the results would have been dire. This monster was roughly equivalent to a seventh or eighth rank Starforge, and it had appeared at random, forcing him to use several star skills. If two or more had come, he would have had to reveal his trump cards. He grew more cautious, reminding himself not to be careless.

Ji Yao and Nie Renxiong, faces flushed, approached. They had been of no help, and now vented their frustration on the centipede’s twitching corpse.

Jiang Yun’er clapped her hands like a sea lion. “Amazing, amazing! I was almost scared silly, but next time I won’t be frightened!” she declared loudly.

Chen Longshi believed her, judging by the high-grade star weapon she carried. Even if she failed, it didn’t matter; with his strength, if he couldn’t escort these tagalongs, his years of training would have been wasted. He flicked his spear, “Da Xiong, check for a star core.”

He himself moved toward the Starvine.

Ji Yao cautioned, “Nie Renxiong, be careful. The insect’s blood is highly toxic. We don’t have antidotes—getting it on you would be trouble.”

Da Xiong responded, carefully prying open the head shell. “Ha! Lucky me—a star core and a star skill spirit core!”

“Let me see, Big Brother Da Xiong!” Jiang Yun’er now grew enthusiastic. She used Spirit Eye to examine it, surprised. “Bronze-tier life core—that explains its strength. The star skill has three runes: Iron-tier skill, Mayfly Art. What does it do?”

Mayfly Art—that must be what let the centipede float and attack. Three runes, only Iron-tier, a bit weak for its power, but the skill spirit core was rare and valuable for study. Iron-tier star skills contain one to nine runes; bronze-tier, ten to eighteen.

Jiang Yun’er handed the skill spirit core to Chen Longshi, and no one objected.

Meanwhile, he dug through the soil, struggling to extract a pineapple-like fruit beneath the Starvine’s roots.

“Star Spirit Fruit?!” Ji Yao exclaimed, uncertain. She couldn’t believe the legendary Star Spirit Fruit had been found so easily.