The silence of the inner forest was a deceptive shroud. One moment, there was only the crunch of wagon wheels on mulch; the next, a shrill, bone-scraping shriek tore through the canopy like a blade across glass.
The world erupted.
Shadows uncoiled from the ancient, moss-covered branches. "AMBUSH—!"
The warning was swallowed by the high-pitched cackling of the Ghost-Claw Macaques. These weren't ordinary primates; their fur was a mangy, ash-grey, and their elongated fingers tipped into jagged, translucent claws that hummed with a sickly pale light.
One mercenary, a veteran with years of scars, barely managed to raise his reinforced oak shield before a macaque slammed into it feet-first. The impact didn't just push him back; the wood groaned and splintered. A sickening crack followed—the sound of the man's ribs shattering like dry kindling. The beast rebounded mid-air, shrieking with manic laughter, and raked its claws across the man's throat in a blurred transition.
Blood sprayed the side of a carriage as the mercenary collapsed, clutching his neck.
"Hold the Line!" Zhang Hu's roar was like thunder.
The Captain didn't hesitate. He drew the massive saber from his back in one fluid motion. The moment the blade cleared its sheath, a literal explosion of Qi rippled outward. The invisible pressure struck the falling macaques like a physical wall, knocking dozens of them backward mid-flight.
"The pressure of the 6th Layer Qi Refining realm is truly a different world", Hanyuan thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. He didn't let the awe paralyze him. As three macaques scrambled toward his position, his blackened steel spear became a flickering tongue of death.
Sou! Sou! Sou!
The sounds of three rapid-fire thrusts echoed in the chaos. Each strike found its mark—straight through the unarmored skulls of the screeching beasts. They were fast, but they lacked the raw defensive power of the Red Scale Boars. Their strength lay in their sheer, overwhelming numbers and their hit-and-run ferocity.
Zhang Hu's saber howled. He swung the blade in a horizontal arc, sending out a crescent wave of pale-gold Qi that sliced through the air. Two macaques caught in the path were cleaved neatly in two, their shrieks cut short as a mist of gore settled on the surrounding leaves.
"Formation! Shields up and don't you dare chase them alone!" the Captain barked, his voice commanding the chaotic ranks.
Hanyuan immediately saw the wisdom in the command. He stayed close to the third carriage, tucking himself behind two stout mercenaries who had slammed their massive tower shields together. He acted like a viper in the tall grass; whenever a macaque leaped from a branch to strike the shield-bearers, Hanyuan's spear would flash through the narrow gap between the shields, impaling the beast before its claws could find purchase.
To his right, the air seemed to shimmer with a murderous elegance. Shen Yumei moved in a terrifying blur, her dual-dagger style far more refined than the brute strength of the other men.
She darted beneath a leaping macaque, her daggers crossing in a perfect "X" as they flashed upward. The beast was literally unzipped from groin to chest, its insides steaming in the cool forest air. Without losing her momentum, Yumei rotated on her heel, flinging her secondary dagger with a flick of her wrist.
THWACK.
The blade buried itself to the hilt, pinning another macaque's skull to a massive oak trunk. The beast's limbs twitched once, a wet crack echoing from the bark, as it hung there like a grim specimen.
Despite the mercenaries' prowess, more grey shapes were pouring from the high canopy. It was a tide of grey fur and ghostly claws.
The cacophony of shrieks died away in an instant. It wasn't the silence of retreat, but the oppressive stillness of absolute submission. The lesser macaques pulled back, clinging to the high branches with trembling limbs, their amber eyes fixed on a single point in the canopy.
Creak—Crack!
The massive, ancient oaks groaned as their branches were forced apart. A colossal form descended with a terrifying, slow grace. The Ghost-Claw Macaque King had arrived.
It stood nearly three meters tall when it fully uncoiled, its body a landscape of knotted muscle and silver-gray scar tissue. Its claws were not translucent like its kin's; they were as dark as obsidian and pulsed with a wicked, metallic sheen. This was a High-Grade Tier 1 Spirit Beast—the apex of the outer forest.
The King slammed its fists against its barrel-like chest. Boom! Boom! The sound was not a biological noise; it was a drum of war that vibrated the very marrow of those who heard it.
Without a moment of posturing, the King moved.
The ground exploded beneath its weight as it converted its massive size into terrifying momentum. Zhang Hu stepped forward to meet it, his eyes narrowing to slits. He didn't just hold his saber; he became one with it.
"Mountain Splitting Arc!"
Zhang Hu roared as Qi surged through his meridians, flooding his arms with a pale-gold radiance. He stepped into the beast's reach, his saber coming down in a crushing, diagonal executioner's strike.
The King crossed its obsidian claws over its head.
CLANG!
The collision produced a shockwave that tore through the surrounding undergrowth, flattened the ferns, and sent a cloud of dust and dried leaves ripping outward. Hanyuan shielded his eyes, feeling the air pressure pop in his ears.
The Macaque King screeched, but as the dust settled, a predatory smile played on its monstrous face. It lunged, its claws becoming a storm of dark afterimages. Each swipe was a whisper of death, aiming for Zhang Hu's throat, heart, and joints with surgical precision.
Zhang Hu was a veteran of a thousand skirmishes. He twisted, his heavy saber moving like a wall of rotating steel. Sparks erupted like miniature stars with every clash of metal on claw.
"Fast!" the Captain growled, his boots sliding through the mulch as the sheer weight of the King's blows began to tell.
The King leaped overhead, using its tail like a third arm. The tail snapped down with the weight of a falling log. Zhang Hu raised his saber flat to catch the blow.
CRACK!
The impact drove Zhang Hu to one knee, the earth beneath his boot splitting. The Macaque King snarled, preparing a killing strike from above. But Zhang Hu was no novice to be pinned down.
"Second Form—Breaking Ridge!"
Zhang Hu slammed his free foot down, his Qi detonating outward from his sole. He spun his body like a coiled spring, his saber sweeping in a brutal, low horizontal arc. The blade caught the Macaque King mid-air across the ribs.
The sound of snapping bone was sickeningly loud. The strike carved a deep, jagged gash through the silver-gray fur, sending the King crashing through two thick trees before it finally hit the ground.
The King rolled and rose, shrieking in a newfound fury. Steam began to rise from its blood, its eyes turning a vivid, chaotic red. It had entered a Berserk state, ignoring the deep wound in its side. It lunged again, its speed doubling as it left craters in its wake.
Zhang Hu stood his ground, inhaling deeply until his chest expanded. Veins stood out like thick cords on his forearms as he channeled every remaining drop of his Qi into the edge of his blade.
"Third Form—Tiger Descends the Cliff!"
Zhang Hu didn't wait. He charged.
Man and beast collided in a final, blinding exchange of gold Qi and dark claws. For a single heartbeat, the forest seemed to hold its breath. They stood back-to-back, perfectly still.
Then, the Macaque King froze.
A thin red line appeared, starting at its crown and traveling down its chest. A second later, the line erupted. Its upper body slid apart as the two halves of the corpse crashed to the forest floor with a wet thud.
The silence that followed was absolute. Zhang Hu stood panting, leaning heavily on his saber, as the remaining macaques vanished into the darkness like smoke, their courage shattered along with their King.
"Count the wounded," he ordered hoarsely. "Then burn the bodies.