Chapter Fifty-Two: First Encounter

"Ha!"

Heat surged above Ji Hao’s head, the veins beneath his skin bulging like dragons. He leaped from the crown of a towering ancient tree, punching toward the head of a Blood-Eyed Ghost Bear—its size akin to a carriage, its power at the very peak of the Lesser Shaman realm.

The Blood-Eyed Ghost Bear threw back its head and howled, swinging its arms—each as long as several meters—with a furious gale to meet Ji Hao’s fist, striking down mercilessly.

The southern wild jungles teemed with perils. For the Blood-Eyed Ghost Bear to possess strength at the apex of the Lesser Shaman realm, it had survived countless bloody battles and brushes with death. Ji Hao’s aura did not strike it as formidable; instinct told the bear that this small human was no different from the countless prey it had slain and devoured before—insignificant and weak.

Ji Hao exhaled sharply, his breath thundering like taut zither strings, his bones clashing like bronze bells. Amid the resounding crash, the bear’s massive paw was reduced to fragments.

With a desperate wail, the Blood-Eyed Ghost Bear’s enormous head exploded into pulp from Ji Hao’s casual punch, as though it were made of soft tofu. The pungent stench of blood began to drift through the dawn-lit forest.

"Roar!"

Ji Hao threw back his head and shouted, vibrant streams of colored light surging within him like tides. A terrifying heat swept through his body as his raw strength soared, growing by leaps and bounds.

The Blood-Eyed Ghost Bear was a true overlord of the mountain forests. Beasts and predatory birds were always several times stronger than Lesser Shamans of the same level. Yet Ji Hao had just slain this formidable creature—many times mightier than the strongest Fire Crow Tribe shaman—using sheer physical power alone.

Seizing the seven- or eight-meter-long corpse, Ji Hao exhaled a torrent of searing white breath that shot more than ten meters into the air. With a mighty swing of his arms, he hurled the bear—heavy as a small mountain—through the air with a piercing whistle. It flew hundreds of meters straight towards the blue-clad figure wielding a longbow, who was covering him from afar.

A faint azure glow flickered around the figure’s waist and abdomen, nearly forming a shamanic core—a sign he was on the verge of breaking through to the Grand Shaman realm. With a startled cry, he dropped his bow and caught the Blood-Eyed Ghost Bear with all his might, stumbling backward dozens of steps before finally steadying himself.

"By all the ancestors! Sister, your child is a monster—he’s giving his uncle no quarter at all!" the blue-clad man complained loudly, his body trembling violently as he barely managed to catch the bear hurled by Ji Hao.

"Hao! Your uncle is not one of your Fire Crow Tribe’s berserkers—he’s an archer from the Azure Leaf Tribe. An archer, do you understand?" he shouted, his cheeks flushed as he dumped the Blood-Eyed Ghost Bear to the ground.

Even among Grand Shamans, their strengths varied with their expertise.

The Fire Crow Tribe’s warriors were known for their immense strength and unparalleled explosive power; their physical prowess ranked among the top ten in all the great southern tribes. In contrast, the Azure Leaf Tribe’s Grand Shamans excelled in speed and exquisite archery. Their raw strength was typically only a fraction—twenty or thirty percent—of the Fire Crow warriors of equivalent rank, but in terms of swiftness through the forests, none in the southern wilds could match them.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Ji Hao sensed the ever-brighter multicolored flame within his lower abdomen and burst out laughing. "Uncle, don’t blame me—just train harder! Even mother says your skinny arms and legs, along with that fair, delicate face, make you look unreliable—even women doubt you’ll ever find a good match!"

The blue-clad man’s face darkened further. Stomping his feet, he cursed Ji Hao furiously.

Ji Hao only laughed louder, his joyful voice echoing far on the morning breeze.

It had been more than half a month since the allied forces of the Blood Fang Band and the Blackwater Mystic Serpent Tribe attacked Cold Creek Valley. Thanks to the timely reinforcements from the Fire Crow Tribe—and the presence of the old monster Ji Zhuo—tranquility now reigned around Cold Creek Valley, with not a sign of suspicious activity.

Ji Hao was thus free to temper his strength each day, setting out at dawn with the blue-clad man and a host of clansmen to hunt in the forests.

The wisp of Grand Shaman blood essence from Ji Xia and Qing Fu, which had leaked when the seal broke last time, had been completely absorbed by Ji Hao just yesterday. His physical power now far surpassed that of an ordinary peak Lesser Shaman.

Now, atop the multicolored flame within him, only a head-sized ball of golden-red blood essence remained—the Grand Shaman blood of Ji Xiao.

Ji Hao reckoned that as soon as he fully digested Ji Xiao’s blood essence, and consumed a certain amount of prey in the process, he would no longer be able to suppress the agitation of his Golden Crow bloodline. He would have to awaken his bloodline power and begin cultivating the eleventh and twelfth layers of the Shaman realm.

He was filled with anticipation for the innate divine abilities he might soon awaken.

The legendary Three-Legged Golden Crow, a divine beast from ancient times, possessed vast supernatural powers. Any single innate gift from its bloodline was enough to awe the world. If he could awaken more than one, it would be even more extraordinary.

Lost in thought, Ji Hao was suddenly interrupted by a gentle, mellow voice echoing from the distant forest: "Be careful ahead, friend! A fiendish beast is heading your way."

At once, a vicious wind swept over, reeking with a pungent stench. Black, foul air whirled with countless grit and gravel, laced with wisps of green ghostly fire. The chill cut to the bone. The instant it touched Ji Hao, his entire body stiffened, half his limbs going numb and unresponsive.

With a mighty shout, nine golden sigils flared in Ji Hao’s pupils. His Purple Mansion core spun rapidly, pure essence flowing through his body. Driven by this power, his blood and qi erupted, sending a wave of heat surging outward and a faint corona of fire flickering around him.

The black wind and the faint firelight collided, resounding with endless crackles. Countless black pebbles slammed into the flames and exploded. Each held the force of a peak Lesser Shaman beast’s strike—one or two Ji Hao could withstand with ease, and even hundreds or thousands posed no threat to his current strength.

But when tens of thousands—hundreds of thousands—of these black stones came roaring in the wind, Ji Hao was forced to stagger backward, his protective flames wavering and on the verge of collapse.

With a shrill whistle, a giant scorpion burst from the forest. Its body was over ten meters long, jet black with dark green stripes, and translucent wings upon its back. Spotting Ji Hao in the distance, this monstrous venomous insect opened its jaws, spewing a howling gale filled with gravel and streaks of green ghostfire directly at him.

A cry of alarm came from afar—Blue Shadow and the warriors of the Fire Crow and Azure Leaf Tribes shouted as dozens of arrows shot from all directions, sealing off the giant scorpion’s escape. But the scorpion was too fast—faster even than the arrows of the Azure Leaf archers. There was no stopping it before it struck Ji Hao.

"Vile creature, how dare you harm others!" came that same gentle, deep voice. A young man, standing over three meters tall, clad in a white linen robe with unbound hair, emerged from the woods riding a gust of clean wind. With a wave of his hand, a beam of azure light shot before Ji Hao, transforming into a round shield that blocked the scorpion’s black wind, gravel, and ghostfire.

With another wave, a massive golden brick spun into the air, whirled a few times, and slammed down squarely on the scorpion’s head.

With a thunderous crash, the golden brick crushed the scorpion’s skull, splattering its brains and gouging a pit several meters wide into the earth.

Ji Hao stared at the young man in awe and delight, his hands and feet trembling with excitement. This was the art of using one’s own power to command the forces of heaven and earth, unleashing strength hundreds of times greater than one’s own—a path identical to Ji Hao’s Nine-Word True Incantation.

Unlike the southern wilds’ shamanic arts, this youth, like Ji Hao, walked the path of following the natural order of heaven and earth.