His name was Zhou Mo.
The station master of the Ravine Wang Clan Station 18.
He had been fond of martial arts since childhood, with a particular liking for wielding blades.
From a young age, he dreamed of growing up to become a hero.
But he had neither the opportunity nor the talent. After desperately advancing to a Level 2 cultivator, he made no further progress. He muddled through a few years as the station master for the Wang family, thinking he would continue this way forever. However, when the rainy season arrived, he joined up with Chen Fan and witnessed Qiu Junior risking his life to defend the city.
That long-held dream of becoming a hero stirred within him once more.
The rain was bitterly cold.
But his blood had never burned so fiercely.
If Qiu Junior could do it, why couldn't he, Zhou Mo?
His life would not be in vain.
He, Zhou Mo, would no longer be unknown. He believed the people on the city wall would remember his name.
Yet...
"Hmm..."
Zhou Mo, who had been standing in the rain with his arms wide open and head held high, felt the cold, drenching raindrops beating down on his face as they pitter-pattered. He couldn't help but scrunch his nose. They said that before death, one's life would flash before their eyes, and time would slow down.
But he never expected it to be this slow.
Quite a while had passed, and he still hadn't died.
Now, he was starting to regret giving his blade to Qiu Junior earlier. Otherwise, he could have ended it all swiftly. Being melted away by a Flesh-Worm Ghost's corrosive mucus was bound to be painful.
No matter how painful it was, he couldn't cry out when he died—it would ruin his heroic image.
He resolved within himself.
A moment later.
Was he still not dead?
Zhou Mo opened his eyes in confusion. Wasn't the life review taking too long? When he looked around, he realized that the Flesh-Worm Ghosts had all disappeared at some point.
It was as if everything that had just happened was an illusion.
Not a single Flesh-Worm Ghost could be seen, neither in the camp nor in the gray mist.
Only the sticky liquid at his feet reminded him that it wasn't an illusion.
He stood bewildered in a pool of green, sticky liquid, looking up at the people on the city wall, completely clueless about what had happened.
"Come up."
Chen Fan, who had been holding himself back on the city wall, finally couldn't help but laugh. "Stop striking a pose. Holding your arms up for so long must be tiring."
...
"Fate is on my side."
Chen Fan stood on the city wall, lost in thought, as he sighed. Leaning on the parapet, he gazed into the distance. The gray mist around the camp was eerily empty, with no Eerie Creatures in sight.
The swarm of Flesh-Worm Ghosts had retreated.
Or rather... they were forced to retreat.
Flesh-Worm Ghosts had no limbs, resembling fleshy spheres. They couldn't crawl. Only when the wind picked up could they move around. Wherever the wind blew, the Flesh-Worm Ghosts would go.
This was also why the Flesh-Worm Ghosts looked pained when they approached the Eerie Fire and turned cheerful when they left the camp.
Because Flesh-Worm Ghosts couldn't choose their route at all.
It hinged entirely on the gale's direction.
Like dandelions, their landing spots were determined by fate.
The moment Zhou Mo flung the Eerie Stones in, spread his arms, and awaited death, the wind swung westward. Since they were already on the edge of the Eerie Tide, once the wind changed direction, the horde of Flesh-Worm Ghosts, caught in the fierce gusts, disappeared off into the Perpetual Night.
That's why he owed it all to fate.
If the wind had turned eastward, even if Zhou Mo had thrown in ten bags of Eerie Stones, the camp would have been doomed.
In fact...
If the fierce gale that started when night fell hadn't blown southward, he would never have encountered this swarm of Flesh-Worm Ghosts in the first place. Of course, that wasn't something he could control.
Now, he finally understood why the female Eerie Creature had withdrawn so quickly. An Eerie Tide of this scale was enough to destroy a city. Even high-level Eerie Creatures had to give way.
Anyone who dared to stand in its way would die.
Flesh-Worm Ghosts knew no fear, much less retreat, as they had no control over their own movements. Even if they wanted to retreat, they couldn't.
Based on his judgment, Flesh-Worm Ghosts were likely a type of Eerie Creature active during the rainy season. When the rainy season arrived, accompanied by fierce winds... they would wander everywhere, forming an Eerie Tide.
They didn't seem to be targeting anything either.
They simply brought destruction wherever they went.
Whatever they encountered, they devastated.
"Zhou Mo."
Chen Fan took the great blade from Qiu Junior and handed it to Zhou Mo, who had returned to the city wall. He spoke with a serious expression, "A Level 2 cultivator might be useless, but as you advance to Levels 3, 4, and 5, you'll become more and more useful."
"As long as you stay in the camp, I'll provide you with Eerie Stones to improve your cultivation."
"You'll be responsible for the camp's security."
"I ensure your cultivation advances."
"You ensure the camp's safety."
"Yes, sir!"
Zhou Mo, somewhat embarrassed, took the large blade from Chen Fan. He averted his gaze and muttered softly, "Station Master, don't worry. As long as I'm here, nothing will happen to the camp."
"Are your hands all right?"
Chen Fan glanced at Zhou Mo's hands, which had been corroded and were now pale and peeling.
"They're fine."
Zhou Mo hurriedly waved his hands. "Fortunately, the heavy rain diluted the liquid left by dead Flesh-Worm Ghosts. It didn't corrode too much—just peeled off a layer of skin. It hurts a bit, but that's it. It'll heal in a while."
"You looked pretty cool earlier."
Wang Kui stepped forward, slung an arm over Zhou Mo's shoulder, and grinned. "Not a bad pose."
"Get lost!"
Zhou Mo, already embarrassed, felt even more ticked off by Wang Kui's teasing. He shook off Wang Kui's arm angrily and snapped, "Say one more word, and I'll beat you up. It wouldn't be a problem for a Level 2 cultivator like me to smack you around!"
"You're a real man."
Crippled Monkey looked at him with admiration. "You're braver than me."
"It's nothing much..."
Zhou Mo looked away, too embarrassed to meet everyone's gaze. If he had died, it would have been heroic. But since he had survived, it was just awkward. He couldn't quite handle it...
After all, he was past the age for it...
"..."
Chen Fan stood on the city wall, smiling without speaking. He let the people behind him joke and laugh, as the tense atmosphere had eased considerably. A bit of lightheartedness was good for their mental well-being. Staying tense for too long wasn't healthy.
He believed that, after tonight, the camp would grow stronger.
Not just in strength,
but more importantly, in unity.
A camp couldn't be built by a lone architect. He needed his own team, and this team seemed promising. In that regard, he considered himself quite lucky.
And...
Crisis and opportunity often came hand in hand.
Once the crisis passed, what remained was opportunity.
The Eerie Stones scattered outside the city walls were his greatest reward. Among them, a few Extraordinary Treasures emitted a soft white glow, as if reminding him that it was time to reap the harvest.
"Crippled Monkey."
Chen Fan turned to Crippled Monkey and instructed, "The female Eerie Creature only retreated to avoid the Flesh-Worm Ghosts. Given her vengeful nature, she'll definitely return. Take the two of them and gather all the Eerie Stones down there. Wrap your hands in cloth to avoid injuring them."
"Yes, sir!"
Crippled Monkey replied solemnly before hurriedly limping off with Zhou Mo and Qi Chong's subordinates to collect the Eerie Stones and Extraordinary Treasures outside the city.
In a group, it was important to consider everyone's feelings. Tonight, Qiu Junior and Zhou Mo had both had their moments to shine, but Crippled Monkey, due to his leg injury, hadn't had a chance. Should he not be given something to do, he'd start feeling down.
The same went for the other two.
They needed to be given tasks too.
That way, everyone had something in common to talk about without feeling marginalized.