Chapter 112: The Consequence of Overestimating Oneself

North of Hongmu Ridge, within the territory of Lu Shang’s camp.

Beside a large tree, Xia Hong held his breath, crouched low to the ground, his right ear pressed tightly against the earth; beside him, Xia Chuan and Luo Yuan stood alert, scanning the surroundings, occasionally glancing at him.

Still underground, about two hundred meters away, coming closer—not because of the rodent corpses; it must be pure heightened perception.

Xia Hong rose from the ground, his expression utterly grim.

The final death cry of the rodents had still worked.

Even though his movements had been swift, the rodents had sensed them and given chase.

Running from the north slope of the mountain to here had taken over ten minutes; midway, he’d paused once and already heard the rodent swarm tunneling through the earth toward them.

He’d originally thought the two rodent corpses had drawn the swarm by scent, so halfway he’d dug a snow pit, marked it, and buried the corpses.

Clearly, he’d been wrong.

Without the two corpses, the rodent swarm still pursued them—and growing faster; the three ran at full speed but couldn’t gain much distance.

“Leader, we can’t stay here any longer—the noise is getting louder!”

Luo Yuan took a few steps south, felt the ground trembling, realized the rodent swarm was drawing near, and his expression tightened instantly.

“Run first!”

Xia Hong also realized they couldn’t linger; he immediately led the two northward in flight.

Fighting those two rodents had already cost them dearly; if this swarm caught up, all three of them would likely die.

Yet as they fled, before they’d even run fifty meters, Xia Hong’s face grew darker and more grim; Xia Chuan and Luo Yuan looked ahead and clearly realized something too—their expressions mirrored his.

They were now at the northernmost edge of Lu Shang’s camp territory, on the eastern side of Hongmu Ridge; if they kept running north, they’d soon reach the Arrow Bamboo Forest—a completely unfamiliar zone.

In the Binghe World, unfamiliar terrain brought dangers no less lethal than death.

They couldn’t run north anymore; staying to fight was hopeless; circling back to camp would doom more people—what to do, what to do…

Xia Hong’s mind raced, frantically searching for solutions—then suddenly he remembered something; he whirled his head westward, toward the interior of Hongmu Ridge, his eyes flashing with sudden insight.

“Change course—run inward! Let’s see if these beasts dare follow!”

Xia Chuan and Luo Yuan, startled by Xia Hong’s sudden change of direction toward the western interior of Hongmu Ridge, didn’t understand why—but immediately followed.

The outer five hundred meters of Hongmu Ridge were safe for them; venturing deeper into the thousand-meter range, based on Luo Ge’s camp’s prior reconnaissance, only other types of low-grade cold beasts dwelled there—though powerful, they remained within the low-grade category; if the three were cautious, entering should pose little danger.

Compared to the Arrow Bamboo Forest to the north or other even more unfamiliar zones, going deeper inward was clearly safer.

But soon, the two who thought they understood Xia Hong’s plan realized they were wrong—because after entering Hongmu Ridge, Xia Hong led them straight toward a patch of swirling mist.

All three knew they faced a life-or-death crisis, so they moved at top speed.

When they spotted the mist cluster, it was barely a hundred meters ahead.

“Leader, that’s the lair of a Yunwu Tengjiao—can we just rush in?”

Unlike Xia Chuan, Luo Yuan, as a former member of Luo Ge’s camp, had some knowledge of the three cold beasts within the thousand-meter range; he’d already recognized the mist zone the moment he saw it.

Seeing Xia Hong still charging toward the mist, he assumed Xia Hong didn’t know about the Yunwu Tengjiao, so he spoke up as a warning.

“I know. Follow me in—dawn’s coming soon; if we don’t shake them off now, we won’t be eaten—we’ll freeze to death. Hurry!”

Xia Hong had scouted this area over a dozen times in the past half-month—he knew perfectly well it was the lair of a Yunwu Tengjiao.

He’d come here on purpose.

“Snakes and rodents are natural enemies—maybe we can still score a free win!”

Xia Hong cursed himself for being an idiot; the simple truth that snakes and rodents were natural enemies had only occurred to him now—at this very moment—and realizing they might still gain an advantage, his pupils glowed brighter.

“Tear off a piece of fur, pack snow on it, melt it, then press it to your face—hurry!”

Hearing Xia Hong’s order, Luo Yuan immediately obeyed; Xia Chuan, though unsure why, quickly pulled a leather scrap from his chest, packed snow into it, let it melt inside his coat, then pressed it over his face.

“The Tengjiao bears the name ‘Cloud Mist’ because its breath exhales a toxic fog—those at the Woodcutting Realm die instantly upon inhalation; those at the Excavation Realm can survive half an hour with wet cloth over nose and mouth—but if they continue inhaling after half an hour, they’ll hallucinate and collapse; excessive exposure can also kill.”

Only now, after Luo Yuan’s explanation, did Xia Chuan understand.

Xia Hong had long memorized the cold-beast scroll left by Luo Ming; seeing Luo Yuan spare him the need to explain, he stayed silent.

The three, masks over nose and mouth, charged into the mist zone.

Visibility inside the mist was low, but the area spanned only fifty to sixty meters, with barely six or seven large trees; the moment they entered, they saw the massive silhouette coiled around the central tree.

It was a Tengjiao over thirty meters long, its body as thick as a water barrel—roughly sixty centimeters in diameter—its entire surface covered in black scales the size of infant fists; most of its body coiled around the tree, its tail buried in snow as if resting on the ground.

Most striking was its enormous head—wider than its body—resting against a fork in the tree; two large bulges on its forehead hinted at sharp horns about to pierce through.

The Tengjiao’s eyes were closed, but its nostrils continuously exhaled white mist, radiating overwhelming pressure.

Previously, Xia Hong had only glimpsed the Tengjiao from afar; now, up close, he truly felt the crushing presence of facing it directly.

Hard to believe this Tengjiao was still classified as a low-grade cold beast, like the Snowmane, Frost Wolf, and Demon Sheep—what must a mid-grade cold beast be like? But now was no time for reflection.

Xia Hong crouched again to the ground, closed his eyes, listened intently—and a faint smile appeared on his face.

“Stopped. These damned beasts truly won’t come closer!”

Earlier, the two rodents had silently tunneled to Luo Yuan’s side and struck successfully because there were only two; but this swarm was clearly massive, and to chase them, they’d tunneled faster, unable to mask their noise.

So each time Xia Hong pressed his ear to the ground, he heard them clearly.

Though he clearly heard the tunneling noise stop about forty meters away, Xia Hong still dared not relax; he led the two away from the Tengjiao’s position, climbed a tree, and hid.

“Wet cloth only blocks half an hour; dawn’s still less than half an hour away—we can hide for only a few minutes at most. Whether the rodents retreat or not, we must move fast—otherwise, even if we escape the Tengjiao, we’ll freeze to death.”

Time ticked by; as Xia Hong estimated the minutes, his ear remained pressed to the tree trunk, hoping to hear the rodent swarm retreating—but sadly, he heard nothing.

But that was normal; if the rodent swarm retreated, they’d likely retreat along the tunnels they’d dug—he wouldn’t hear a thing.

“It’s getting light, big brother—if we don’t move now, we’re done.”

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Xia Chuan clearly felt the temperature dropping; he looked up at the now-thinning mist, realized night was ending, and urgently warned them.

Xia Hong frowned; even without dawn approaching, the massive Yunwu Tengjiao beside them made him want to flee—but the problem was, he still didn’t know if the rodents had retreated; what if they were lying in wait?

The Tengjiao was their only chance at survival; if they fled recklessly and got surrounded by the rodents, the beasts wouldn’t give them a second chance.

“Let’s retreat—take the gamble!”

If he could, Xia Hong wouldn’t gamble.

After all, if he lost—if the rodents hadn’t left—he’d die the moment he stepped out of the mist.

But the problem was—he had no choice.

After dawn, the cold was lethal to humans; but for cold beasts, it was different—they grew more active and powerful in daylight; if they stayed, the odds would only worsen, leaving them with only death.

Yet just as Xia Hong was about to leap down from the tree—

A clear sound of splintering wood reached their ears—

Crack…

Xia Hong froze, pupils narrowing; he returned to his previous spot and pressed his ear to the ground again.

“Run!”

As soon as he listened, his face turned pale with shock; he shouted, grabbed Xia Chuan and Luo Yuan, and all three leapt from the tree.

Hssss…

The main trunk of the tree they’d just occupied suddenly split open—seven or eight silver flashes shot out, sharp fangs and claws racing toward them; who else but the long-tailed rodents?

The three landed, still mid-motion, and were immediately surrounded by two or three rodents each; they quickly back-to-back, raised their blades, and blocked many attacks—but still suffered multiple cuts.

Xia Hong, targeted as the primary threat, received a deep gash—three to four inches long—across his face from a rodent’s claw.

“Feign stillness, then send a small group to tunnel in secretly—these rodents’ intelligence has reached this level? Damn it!”

Xia Hong ignored his wounds, his expression grim; had the rodents not accidentally revealed themselves with that final sound, they’d have been decapitated half a second later.

Eight rodents surrounded them in a formation of three-three-two, eyes blazing with malice, their slender faces twisted in ferocity, their long incisors chattering as if communicating.

“Big brother, trouble!”

One crisis hadn’t passed when another struck.

Before Xia Hong could devise an escape from the rodents’ encirclement, he heard Xia Chuan’s low, horrified voice from the left; he turned, confused, and saw Xia Chuan staring upward—he instinctively looked up too.

The sight froze his spine.

A massive head hovered dozens of meters above, staring down at him—it was the same Yunwu Tengjiao.

Its tongue stretched five to four meters long; its breath exhaled fog far heavier than before; its twin crimson vertical pupils held no emotion—only pure, savage brutality.

When had the Tengjiao awakened?

How could such a massive body slither from the central tree to here without a single sound?

Xia Hong wiped the blood oozing from his face with his hand—his heart sank to the bottom.

He’d thought to exploit natural enmity—lure the rodents to fight the Tengjiao, hoping to play the fisherman and reap the benefits.

Now, he’d gained no advantage—he was surrounded by both Tengjiao and rodents.

“This is the consequence of overestimating oneself.”

Xia Hong now regretted every decision; he wanted to slap himself twice.

(End of Chapter)