Chapter Ninety-Three: The Pink Miasma

As Qi Xiao ventured deeper, the aura within the miasma grew ever more intense. He sensed an invisible cluster of tendrils gently brushing against his body, attempting to guide him toward a particular direction.

A chill of revulsion swept over him, but the Star-Moon Ward was constantly active, so it was clearly just an illusion. Yet, it stirred a savage urge within him—a desire to destroy everything. The moment that emotion arose, Qi Xiao suppressed it, and his somewhat dizzy mind cleared once more.

“He’s trying to provoke my emotions…”

Though the shadow before him gradually sharpened and the breaths grew more alluring, Qi Xiao remained vigilant, halting to scan his surroundings.

Strange flowers bloomed everywhere around him, each as large as a person, swaying incessantly. Their vibrant petals seemed injected with excessive pigment and nectar trickled from their stamens, sweet and fragrant. The blossoms greedily absorbed the miasma, their stems trembling with excitement. Occasionally, two flowers would rub against one another, producing seductive sounds—clearly, these noises were crafted to lure intruders.

Qi Xiao concealed himself as much as possible, flipping his palm to retrieve the shard of the Mirror Spirit’s lens. Using the spatial technique his teacher had taught him, he anchored half of his body in the Mirror Realm, ready to escape at any moment, and slowly approached the shadow.

A massive creature gradually emerged before his eyes, quietly curled amid the flowers, shrouded by miasma and twilight. Its immense form blended seamlessly into the environment; its skin matched the colors of the surrounding plants, offering perfect camouflage.

Its body was covered in thick, luminous scales, each shimmering faintly like fireflies in the night. Its limbs were powerful, its feet resembling those of a goat, deeply embedded in the soil for remarkable stability. Upon its head grew a pair of curved, razor-sharp horns, entwined with strange markings.

Even more flowers blossomed upon the creature itself, towering and glorious, surpassing those on the ground. Certain scales bore a thin layer of dust, evenly spread, untouched by wind or rain. The soil beneath it showed a distinct depression, and the vegetation around was bent, obviously due to prolonged pressure. This giant beast had likely lain in that spot for a very long time, unmoving.

“It’s impressive how it can sleep so soundly in such a noisy environment…”

To observe the beast, Qi Xiao lifted the restrictions on his sight and hearing. The endless seductive calls of hundreds of flowers made his skin crawl; he wanted nothing more than to flee. Forcing himself to endure the discomfort, he watched for a while—the beast remained motionless, but every quarter of an hour it would take a deep breath, causing the surrounding flowers to quiver and emitting a tremendous wave of sound, making Qi Xiao grit his teeth and wish he could burn it all down.

After about an hour, when no new changes appeared imminent, Qi Xiao felt relieved and quickly withdrew from the miasma.

A cluster of colossal anacondas still entwined themselves at the mouth of the mist. Qi Xiao made his way to a lakeshore some distance from the miasma, finally relaxing, and, feeling a pang of hunger, leaned against a tree and recited a spell.

“Mana Bread.”

Perhaps because his mood was so foul, the bread formed entirely red, devoid of any patterns, looking for all the world like a red steamed bun. Qi Xiao took a bite, and a surge of fiery spice flooded his taste buds, making him gasp.

He dared not drink from the forest lake, wary of unforeseen mishaps, so he quickly drew a bucket of water from his spatial technique and drank deeply. Half a bucket later, his mouth felt much improved. He hurriedly stowed the bread away, not daring to eat any more, and hunger was no longer an issue.

Qi Xiao was quite dissatisfied with the result of his first non-test use of this culinary spell. He frowned deeply, but recalled from his readings that a certain wizard could only produce mana bread with the flavor of smelly socks—at least spicy was better than foul, and he was not the worst off.

Next, Qi Xiao planned to capture the giant beast, or rather, to temporarily craft an alchemical device that could block sound, then strike it with his staff.

He set to work without delay, for the task was not difficult. He retrieved instruments stored via spatial magic, then selected some special soundproof metals from the materials. Once processed through alchemy, these metals could absorb and dissipate acoustic energy, but clearly, their quantity paled in comparison to the beast’s enormous size.

Qi Xiao turned his attention to the ubiquitous giant trees nearby. Not all of them had bark wrinkled like magical runes—he needed only two, which, once prepared and inscribed with soundproofing runes, would suffice. Durability was not a concern; he trusted the Dragonflame Staff to subdue the beast quickly, without it damaging the soundproofing device.

His gaze roved among the towering trees until he chose two close together. These would serve as the main materials for his sound barrier. He swiftly felled them, then used alchemy to transform them into soundproof panels, reinforced at key points with metal, finally constructing a massive “box” with only a single opening.

Qi Xiao moved quickly, engraving a series of complex runes onto several of the panels. Once activated, these runes would absorb ambient sound waves and convert them into other forms of energy, achieving the desired soundproofing.

With the runes complete, Qi Xiao poured mana into them, activating the alchemical arrays. Light flowed across the wood, gradually forming a semi-transparent sound barrier.

With a flick of his finger, the huge wooden box began to shrink, eventually condensing to roughly a cubic meter in size.

This was the spatial compression technique taught by Midil. It could not last long, so Qi Xiao hurried, using mana to lift the box and, with practiced ease, ran back to where the goat-footed beast slumbered, tossing the box into the air.

The box expanded, returning to its original size, and crashed down heavily. Magical runes glimmered, but not a single sound escaped.

Next, Qi Xiao drew out the Dragonflame Staff from his spatial storage. He took a deep breath, focusing intently, preparing to strike. He knew he must subdue the goat-footed beast in one blow, allowing no chance for a struggle, for the fragile wooden box could not withstand even a single casual attack.

Only thunder surged along the staff; the flames he suppressed. As the storm gathered to its peak, the sluggish beast finally sensed danger and slowly opened its eyes—but it was already too late.