Chapter 22: The Forbidden Zone of Humanity

Su Hao was acutely aware that venturing into this territory, infested with demonic beasts, was fraught with extreme peril. Yet, despite this, he felt not a hint of fear.

Recalling how even Golden Core stage cultivators viewed these beasts with trepidation and dared not provoke them lightly, his fighting spirit only burned brighter. He was not merely calculating how to successfully slay a beast; a bold idea had taken root in his mind—if he could capture a few cubs to raise as his own spirit pets, that would be ideal.

As he moved with extreme caution, Su Hao finally discovered some fresh beast droppings. He followed the trail, carefully observing the remnants within the waste, and deduced that the beast was a carnivore. The presence of digested bone fragments within the droppings served as undeniable evidence.

Su Hao remained hyper-vigilant while tracking, keeping a close watch on his surroundings. He knew the habits of these beasts well: they generally did not move in packs unless congregating near their lair. However, there were always exceptions. The demonic wolf, for instance, operated in packs, relying on numerical superiority to hunt. Even beasts a hundred times their size would find it impossible to escape being devoured once they were surrounded.

Su Hao took every step with the utmost care, terrified of alerting a nearby pack. He understood all too well that if he were to encounter a group, no matter how brave or formidable he might be, he would struggle to withstand a tidal wave of attacks. In this wilderness filled with hidden dangers, every step he took was heavy with caution, as if the ground beneath his feet were a minefield waiting to detonate. He knew that only by maintaining constant alertness and a cool head could he hope to survive in this region where demonic beasts roamed without restraint.

As fate would have it, the beast Su Hao was tracking turned out to be a demonic wolf notorious in these parts. Unlike gentle livestock, these wolves lived in harsh environments and were vicious to the extreme. Once they spotted prey, they displayed a relentless, undying tenacity. If they could not succeed through individual strength, they would not hesitate to summon their pack, fighting to the death to achieve their goal. For human cultivators, these wolves showed no mercy; to them, the flesh and blood of a practitioner was an exquisite delicacy, and they would never let an opportunity to hunt one slip by.

As Su Hao crept forward, his gaze was suddenly drawn to a scene ahead: the demonic wolf was feasting with gusto upon the carcass of another beast. The prey was massive, roughly the size of a sturdy ox. The wolf itself was of similar size, and the fact that it had managed to take down such a large creature was truly staggering.

Su Hao’s eyes locked onto the massive wolf, but instead of retreating, a surge of greed welled up within him. He mused to himself, "If I could bring back the carcasses of both these beasts, it would be enough to feed dozens of people for a month. That would be quite a haul."

Hiding in the shadows, Su Hao observed the wolf intently. It was covered in grey-black fur that shimmered with a metallic luster under the sunlight, appearing incredibly tough. Its eyes were like two burning flames, revealing a sinister, greedy glint that made one’s skin crawl. The wolf was focused entirely on its meal, appearing completely unaware of Su Hao’s presence.

However, Su Hao knew this was merely a temporary illusion. The moment he made a move, the beast would instantly become alert and launch a frenzied attack. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. He knew he had to proceed with absolute precision; any mistake could lead to him ending up between the wolf's fangs. He quietly circled to the wolf’s flank, searching for the perfect moment to strike.

***

However, at that critical juncture, the wolf seemed to sense something amiss. It suddenly raised its head, its eyes filled with murderous intent as it stared directly at Su Hao’s hiding spot. Its gaze felt like two sharp blades piercing his heart.

Su Hao was startled, but he quickly forced himself to remain steady. He knew he could not afford even the slightest flaw, or the wolf would pounce and tear him to shreds. He subconsciously gripped his longsword, leaning forward, ready for combat.

The wolf, sensing the hostility radiating from Su Hao, slowly rose to its feet. It crouched, dug its claws into the earth, and let out a low, guttural growl, as if to intimidate him.

Seeing the wolf distracted by its meal, Su Hao closed the distance. When he was within range, he launched a rapid charge, drawing his longsword and thrusting it toward the beast’s vital points. The wolf, highly alert, moved to dodge, but it inadvertently moved straight into the path of the strike. Su Hao’s blow was powerful, piercing through the beast's neck and reaching its throat.

The wolf let out a shrill, miserable howl. It turned to flee, the sword still embedded in its body, looking both pathetic and ferocious. Seeing the beast’s immense strength, Su Hao decisively let go of the hilt and pulled a large machete—looted from a rogue cultivator leader—from his storage bag, hacking at the wolf repeatedly. He knew he had to strike while the iron was hot; he could not give the beast a chance to retaliate.

Moments later, the wolf lay still, its breath extinguished. Su Hao looked at the massive carcass and tried to store it, only to find that one storage bag could only hold this one wolf. With no other choice, he placed the other beast's carcass into a second storage bag.

Su Hao brushed the dust from his clothes, changed into a clean robe, and felt refreshed. He then continued to probe the mysteries of the dense forest. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, dappling his face, yet it could not dispel the chill rising from the depths of his heart.

An hour passed in silence. Su Hao’s steps became steady, his mind sinking into the quiet atmosphere of the surroundings. However, the wheels of fate were turning, leading him toward an unexpected confrontation. This time, the goddess of luck seemed to have hidden away, offering no protection.

A massive demonic bear caught Su Hao’s scent from a distance with its keen nose. Its blood-red eyes locked onto the intruder, filled with a hunger and caution like that of a starving traveler who had suddenly spotted a steaming, fragrant meal. It even paused, its nostrils twitching as it tried to discern more information about the human from the air.

A deep, intimidating roar echoed through the forest, signaling the start of the battle. Before Su Hao could even draw his sword, the bear charged at him like a wild horse, accompanied by the force of wind and thunder. In this hair-raising moment, Su Hao reacted on instinct, reaching into his robe to draw a gleaming blood-edged dagger and slashing at the relatively soft area of the bear's neck.

A line of blood appeared. The bear roared in pain—a sound of warning and frustration, as if signaling its kin: "This one is troublesome, retreat!" It turned to flee, clearly startled by the sudden counterattack.

However, in that split second, Su Hao’s eyes swept to the side and spotted three small figures hidden behind the bushes—the bear’s cubs. They were looking at the scene with frightened, helpless eyes.

Seeing this, Su Hao realized why the mother bear hadn't fought to the death immediately; it was a mother’s instinct, trying to protect her offspring. The mother bear turned back to face him, her eyes filled with both the flames of fury and a clear warning, as if saying: "You may have wounded me, but I do not fear you. Leave now, or I will summon every creature in this forest to fight you, you intruder."

Su Hao knew he was in a difficult spot. He drew the heavy machete from his back; the blade emitted a cold light. He realized that against such a behemoth, this heavier weapon might be more effective than his light sword.

In this ancient forest, a battle of life, death, and wit was about to unfold. Su Hao had to rely on his courage and intellect to find a way to survive.

The mother bear’s eyes flickered with determination. She let out a series of soft, urgent growls to her cubs, filled with motherly love: "Children, run! Mother will hold off this terrible enemy."

Before the roar faded, the mother bear charged at Su Hao regardless of the cost, her only belief being the protection of her young. Su Hao felt a surge of respect, but his instinct for survival kicked in. He gripped his machete, eyes locked on the bear’s thick neck. With a fierce swing, a flash of cold light passed, and a long, gaping wound opened on the bear’s neck. Blood sprayed like a fountain, staining the ground red.

Su Hao stared at the bear, marveling at its vitality. "This beast is incredibly tenacious. It has been wounded twice, losing blood like a dam breaking, yet it doesn't seem to hinder its movements much."

However, Su Hao failed to notice that the bear was reaching its limit. The massive blood loss made every step a struggle. Yet, there was no retreat in the bear's eyes; she had three cubs to protect. Even if she had to use her last ounce of strength, she would block this "demon."

The mother bear was filled with regret. She regretted provoking such a powerful enemy, having only sought food for her children. Every time Su Hao’s weapon swung toward her, she used her remaining instinct to dodge. Despite the horrific wound on her neck, she did not give up.

She let out a desperate, mournful howl, looking back at her cubs. They remained where they were, watching the fight with innocent curiosity, unaware of the looming danger. The mother bear, heartbroken, let out an even louder howl—a call for the father, the king of this forest, who was hunting nearby and would surely hear her cry.

Yet, the three cubs remained immersed in the "game," their innocent eyes filled with excitement, completely oblivious to the life-or-death crisis unfolding before them. The mother bear’s cries became increasingly shrill, a futile hope that her children would understand and flee. But they simply looked at her in confusion, unable to comprehend her final intention.