Chapter 42: Encounter with the Fire-Spitting Bird

When Qiu Han fell into a deep coma after accidentally swallowing that strange yellow essence, the beast’s instincts were awash with worry and anxiety, though it had no idea what it ought to do. As a spirit beast, it lacked the wisdom and emotions of humans; it could only stand watch in silence and guard him quietly.

Within its memory, it recalled that the cave where it dwelled contained a pool of water. Whenever it was wounded, submerging itself in those waters would heal its injuries. Thus, it intended to bring Qiu Han to the pool as well. It did not know what the round object was, but when Qiu Han took it, the beast made no move to seize it back, even though it should have rightfully belonged to the beast.

All it knew was that this human could have killed it, yet chose to spare its life and even treated its wounds. Though it did not understand the contents of those bottles and jars, when they were poured over its injuries, it could feel itself slowly healing. It was this very human who let it soar through the skies for the first time, filling it with immense joy. It did not comprehend how great a debt it owed this human; it only knew that Qiu Han had been kind to it, and that alone was enough.

Between spirit beasts and humans, their encounters almost always ended in bloodshed, without need for reason. The enmity between spirit beasts and cultivators was ingrained, as seen in Qiu Han’s earlier clashes with beasts—each one a fight to the death. Such a state of affairs was largely due to cultivators’ relentless slaughter of spirit beasts in their pursuit of resources or profit for their cultivation, leading to the present animosity.

For cultivators, spirit beasts were treasures in their entirety—their bodies could be used to forge magical artifacts, talismans, or as materials for spiritual tools. Even the growth of certain rare spiritual plants was often guarded by beasts, and to obtain them, the guardians had to be slain. Such acts were ubiquitous in the cultivation world, occurring almost daily.

Perhaps within the cultivation world, such actions could not be simply labeled right or wrong. Yet, it was precisely because Qiu Han was still young that, upon witnessing the flower-browed marten gravely wounded and awaiting death, a rare compassion stirred in his heart. Breaking convention, he turned an enemy into a friend, and even bestowed great fortune upon the creature.

Perhaps spirit beasts, lacking human intelligence, were also free from human selfishness and greed. Once they felt gratitude toward a human, they became even more loyal—free of ulterior motives, free of desire...

As for Qiu Han, by this time he had already left the Yin Mountain Range. According to the instructions in the jade slip, he was making his way toward a place called Misty Marsh. This place was deep within the Hundred Thousand Mountains, and the journey was long. Even flying at full speed without pause, it would take him several days to reach his destination.

While soaring through the sky, Qiu Han’s spiritual sense suddenly detected a tiny dot ahead of him, which gradually grew larger. At last, about five hundred yards ahead, a massive bird, its entire body blazing red, appeared in his line of sight.

“That’s a Firebird Beast! No, judging from its appearance and size, it’s certainly not a first-rank Firebird Beast. Could it be... a Flame-Spitting Bird?”

Qiu Han’s heart skipped a beat in surprise. The Firebird Beast was a first-rank avian spirit beast; an adult stood a bit larger than an ordinary person, with dark red plumage, a plump belly, broad but short wings, and sturdy, albeit short, talons. As its name suggested, it was a fire-type beast capable of breathing flame.

Yet the creature before him, though similar in form, was more than twice the size of a normal Firebird Beast. Its feathers shone a bright cinnabar, its wings were long and expansive, its talons slender, and a patch of golden feathers adorned its brow. Such features made its identity clear—it had advanced to become a second-rank Flame-Spitting Bird.

Being an avian beast, flight was of course no issue. Fortunately, though such creatures were formidable attackers, their physical resilience could not compare to the beasts of the land.

“Judging by its aura, it’s stronger than the Azure Wolf King I encountered in Spirit Phantom Valley, but clearly weaker than the flower-browed marten. This should be a second-rank, early-stage peak Flame-Spitting Bird—about equivalent to a cultivator at the peak of Foundation Establishment’s initial stage. With my current strength, if I’m prudent, defeating it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Qiu Han quietly compared the bird’s power to his own. For now, he was still five hundred yards away; perhaps it had not noticed him. If he could avoid provoking it, that would be for the best.

With this thought, Qiu Han veered left, accelerating his flight. In no time, he had covered over a thousand yards. He exhaled deeply, relieved to have skirted past the Flame-Spitting Bird, then changed direction again toward his intended destination.

Just then, his spiritual sense caught the Flame-Spitting Bird rapidly closing in from two thousand yards behind him, its speed surpassing his by a considerable margin. It would not be long before it caught up.

“Damn it!”

Qiu Han cursed inwardly. With a flash of radiance, he pushed his speed to the limit, intent on shaking off his pursuer.

After almost the time it took to burn a stick of incense, Qiu Han realized not only had he failed to lose the Flame-Spitting Bird, but the distance between them was shrinking rapidly—now down to a mere thousand yards.

“Hmph, you really are relentless!”

He pushed his speed to the utmost. For a second-rank spirit beast, even if he were to win, it would take considerable effort, and killing it outright would be even harder. One misstep could spell great danger. If avoidance was possible, it remained the wisest choice.

Still, if this was Qiu Han’s plan, the Flame-Spitting Bird had other ideas. In its eyes, the prey at its beak was not about to escape. It had no intention of letting Qiu Han go so easily.

For a full hour, man and beast streaked through the sky, covering at least a hundred miles. At last, the Flame-Spitting Bird had closed the gap to just a hundred yards. Suddenly, it opened its sharp, hooked beak and unleashed a streaming dragon of fire, launching a direct attack at Qiu Han.

“I had no wish to provoke you. Don’t think for a moment that I’m afraid, or that I’m easy prey!”

Qiu Han twisted in flight, narrowly dodging the fiery assault. With his left hand, he reached into his storage pouch, retrieved a large stack of talismans, and activated them in quick succession. A shield of spiritual power and a barrage of defensive talismans sprang to life, layering protective barriers around him.

With his right hand, he poured spiritual energy into the talismans, flinging the entire bundle of attack talismans at the bird. Instantly, a storm of ice needles and fireballs filled the sky, hurtling toward the Flame-Spitting Bird in relentless waves, as if to engulf it completely.

In the heat of the moment, Qiu Han had no time for any other preparations. He did not expect these low-grade attack talismans to seriously injure, much less kill, the Flame-Spitting Bird. He only hoped their onslaught would buy him precious time—enough to ready himself for the coming battle.