The circle of sword light seemed to condense into something tangible; Jiang Chen had already fallen into a state where both self and world were forgotten.
One sword formed a circle, and within the reach of that sword, neither wind nor rain could pass.
The pressure bearing down on the sword circle suddenly emptied, yet he continued the circle on the inertia of his body's instinct.
Then, all at once, he came back to his senses.
He gripped his sword and held still.
Serpent corpses lay piled like hills all around, and he stood alone in the single "hollow" at the center.
Soreness and pain, every kind of sensation crashing over him at once.
And that sword circle, refined to its utmost within a single foot, had become his strongest defensive sword form at his current stage.
But he had held the line at last!
Before Jiang Chen could breathe a sigh of relief, suddenly—
Rustle, rustle. Rustle, rustle.
The withered branch serpents that had just slithered away were surging back.
The first charge brims with vigor, the second wanes, and the third is spent.
These withered branch serpents actually knew to avoid his edge, then return for another assault!
This was more frightening than the venom that could wither a poison-devouring flower in an instant.
Because it proved that the withered branch serpents truly possessed intelligence.
Or rather, that they were being directed by some intelligent being.
His earlier "entrapment by the serpent horde" had been no accident, but a trap the withered branch serpents had deliberately laid!
What Jiang Chen faced was not merely savage beasts and venomous creatures that thought nothing and acted on instinct alone.
When the withered branch serpents slithered close again, they showed no hesitation at all; coiling and springing, they shot forward once more like a rain of arrows.
And this time, at the heart of the horde's encirclement, Jiang Chen did not raise another sword circle. Instead, he returned his sword to its sheath at once, his ten fingers moving like flowers threading through air as he wove hand seals.
His hands.
The left was still mostly intact, but the web of his right thumb was already a bloody pulp,
and every movement sent a heart-piercing ache through him.
Yet apart from a faintly furrowed brow, Jiang Chen showed no other expression, and his hands never faltered in the slightest.
Those who wail for father and mother at the slightest hurt do so because they still have a father to lament to, a mother to cry out for.
He feared pain too, but he had understood from an early age that crying out accomplished nothing.
Overcome it!
The dense mass of withered branch serpents pounced down on Jiang Chen in unison.
Chirp chirp chirp! Chirp chirp chirp!
Clang, zing, whoosh, bang...
An even denser, swifter burst of flame sparrows exploded outward with Jiang Chen at the center!
Eight tones sounded as one, and the flame sparrows detonated in an unbroken chain.
After that single Dao art, everything within fifty paces of Jiang Chen was instantly cleared away!
To be precise, every withered branch, withered leaf, and withered branch serpent was wiped clean away. The giant trees caught in the blast, however, were left without the slightest damage.
Jiang Chen had avoided the Eight-Tone Flame Sparrows at the start partly for this very reason. In the Forest Sea, unleashing a powerful fire-element Dao art risked unforeseeable consequences.
But as it turned out, constrained by something strange, his exploding flame sparrows had no effect on the giant trees whatsoever—not even a scorch mark, let alone a wildfire.
And the serpent horde beyond fifty paces had thinned out noticeably.
Quite a few withered branch serpents slithered back and forth just outside that fifty-pace ring, as if they too were hesitating over what to do next.
But Jiang Chen did not hesitate.
Bang, bang, bang, bang...
Seizing the moment, he threaded through the gaps on Flame Meteors and left the area at speed.
Two hundred paces, five hundred paces, one li, three li, five li...
Jiang Chen tore northward until he clearly sensed his Dao essence beginning to struggle to sustain the effort, and only then did he drop out of flight.
The Flame Meteor was not an escape art made for long journeys; sustaining such high speed, his current limit was about fifty li. And he needed to keep a reserve of Dao essence sufficient to support a battle at all times.
He had left so decisively for two reasons: first, worry that the racket of the Eight-Tone Flame Sparrows might draw some danger, and second, the withered branch serpents themselves.
Behind this horde there had to be an intelligent being—perhaps the Serpent King itself. But Jiang Chen had no confidence he could flush it out.
For a species born with such powerful concealment, the Serpent King would only hide deeper still—and with intelligence on top, there was no way it would be foolish enough to stand apart from the other withered branch serpents.
There was no reason at all for Jiang Chen to waste effort grappling with a horde of withered branch serpents in this unfamiliar Jade Balance World, especially with foes so dangerous. Until he had sufficient confidence, retreat was the best policy.
Only once he was clear of the encirclement could he spare the time to treat his wounds. The main injury was the repeatedly battered, pulped web of his thumb; after applying salve, a simple bandage was enough.
The strips for bandaging he cut straight from clean clothing taken out of his Storage Casket; he only had to be careful, while wrapping, not to impede the dexterity of his fingers. This posed no difficulty for Jiang Chen—it was all a matter of habit.
After the ambush by the withered branch serpents, his attitude toward this Forest Sea grew ever more cautious.
He even kept his guard up against the giant trees that made up the Forest Sea itself.
Wood begets fire—it was the way of nature. Trees left utterly unscathed under the full coverage of the Eight-Tone Flame Sparrows... that in itself was deeply strange.
But if these trees truly were a problem, then in this boundless Forest Sea there seemed to be no path left but to wait for death.
Of course, in Jiang Chen's understanding of life, the words "wait for death" did not exist.
He confirmed his bearing once more and pressed north. Even if it meant following one road all the way into the dark, it was still better than circling forever in place.
This time the quiet of the Forest Sea did not last long. After a stretch of travel, sounds of something cleaving the air approached from afar.
Jiang Chen darted behind a giant tree.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Two figures—human figures, presumably—were racing through the woods at great speed.
In this endless Forest Sea, besides beasts, there were people!
Jiang Chen held his breath and watched how things unfolded.
Thunk!
The sound was like a bird's beak pecking wood.
An arrow... no, three arrows in all.
One of them was embedded deep in a giant tree within Jiang Chen's line of sight, and his pupils widened slightly.
Mind you, the giant trees of this Forest Sea were of many different species, none of which Jiang Chen could name, yet they shared one trait: extreme toughness and astonishing resilience.
Even his Eight-Tone Flame Sparrows had failed to harm these trees, yet this arrow had sunk in extremely deep.
The second and third arrows had plunged into the earth, quivering, planted squarely across the path ahead, forcing that sprinting figure to a halt—right there, not far in front of Jiang Chen.
It looked like a pursuit: one fleeing, one chasing.
The one who had stopped in front of Jiang Chen had a powerfully built frame. His clothing was very strange—not hide, not hemp, not silk, but something that seemed woven of grass. Much of his body was bare: half of his torso exposed on a slant, his lower garb something like a skirt.
Judging by the muscle and the Adam's apple, this was clearly a man. In any case, Jiang Chen had traveled through several countries and considered himself widely experienced, yet he had never seen clothing like this.
The man did notice Jiang Chen, but after only a glance, he turned his head away with great pride to look back at his opponent.
Jiang Chen couldn't quite fathom what there was to be proud about while being chased all over the place, and he didn't know who these people were either. In any case, it was none of his business—he would watch first.
"Qing Qishu, there's no escaping now!" The pursuer behind halted and shouted at the top of his voice.
The pronunciation was a bit off, perhaps closer to the language of the State of Jing, but Jiang Chen could still understand it.
The languages of powerful states like Jing and Qi were widely spoken within the reach of their influence, so most who had traveled among the nations understood a fair amount.
The one shouting held a short bow in hand, an arrow nocked, poised to loose it.
"Hmph!"
The sturdy man called Qing Qishu produced a wooden shield from who knew where and raised it before him with one hand, his face alight with swagger. "Qing Jiuye, I was merely yielding to you! Did you really think I was afraid? Take a look at what shield I'm holding!"
Twang!
The one called Qing Jiuye gave no reply; he simply drew and fired.
Thunk!
Qing Qishu even had time to sweep a contemptuous glance over Jiang Chen, as if to say: quite the education, eh, country bumpkin?
Only then did his gaze return to Qing Jiuye. He shook his utterly unmoved shield and said smugly, "This Green Wood Shield of mine has been blessed by the Dragon God—my defense inspires fear! Your arrows could never break through!"
Jiang Chen, standing to one side, was somewhat bewildered and couldn't help cutting in: "But... he didn't shoot your shield."
Qing Qishu froze, looked down, and discovered blood spurting from his knee.