Chapter 299: Solo Wolf Cultivation Mode, Hunter Form (Request Monthly Tickets)

The old-style game pod slowly descended.

The hoses retracted within the pod’s walls automatically connected to Ning Shu’s body, and the nutrient fluid gradually rose above his head.

The gene-repair fluid tank linked to the pod, and its green light lit up.

When Ning Shu’s vision shifted to the virtual desktop, a new icon appeared—a burning crimson flame, with the text beneath it clearly reading: Monster World.

Ning Shu, desperate to earn sacrificial power second by second, decisively clicked to enter.

After a brief moment of darkness, the game’s real-time scene appeared.

The first scene to appear was the Emperor Tomb Mountain Range.

The camera pierced through the cloud layer, diving like a falcon toward the earth.

Peaks sculpted by eons of wind and frost rose and fell, exposed rock veins twisting like the spines of monstrous beasts; as the view surged forward, the mountains flowed like a dark Black Tide, pressing a suffocating aura upon him.

The camera finally plummeted at light speed into a bottomless abyss on the earth’s surface.

A towering black tower erupted from the dark abyss, piercing the heavens, wreathed in swirling black mist where countless grotesque evil influences screamed and roared.

The scene froze on a platform above the tower.

A dominant figure standing midair suddenly opened his eyes and turned back—his dark red irises erupted with bloodlight.

Instantly, four blurred figures slowly materialized from the darkness, flanking the dominant figure on either side.

At that moment, a blood-red crescent moon rose behind the five figures, and the four characters “Emperor Tomb Mountain Range” materialized from nothingness.

The scene abruptly tore apart.

The view shifted from the sinister Emperor Tomb Mountain Range to the Colorful Mist Coast.

Beneath shimmering waves, the blue sea cradled endless silver sands; the camera pushed forward toward the ocean.

The islands of the Ascension Clan flickered in and out of the seven-colored mist, the Shu Yan Domain floated atop the waves, scenes of brutal combat from the Ancient God Arena… the final focus settled before a destruction flood composed of twelve elements, where the champion fighter’s right arm muscles bulged like ancient roots, his fist clenched, one foot suspended in midair as he swung forward—his unleashed power ignited like a wildfire, shattering the elemental flood.

Next came the Frostwinter Snowfield (the two major legions of the Lord of Bliss), the Adventurer World (formerly the Dungeon World, with dungeon footage displayed), the Sen Luo Forest Realm (the final shot focused on the Predictive Mushroom), the Land of the Rising Sun… each scene leaped rapidly in an overhead view, finally landing on a frozen Firefly Lake in southern Dì Míng Continent.

The camera sank lower; the cold wind breathed like an ancient beast, whipping fine ice crystals into a pale fog just above the ground.

The frozen Firefly Lake mirrored the golden sun in the sky like a flawless mirror.

Beneath the ice, deep azure shadows lurked—vast, indistinct in outline yet radiating oppressive weight.

Along the Firefly Lake’s edge, jagged black rock spires jutted skyward like fangs.

This was clearly the seventh new player village about to launch.

At that moment, the four characters “Eternal Silent Firefly Lake” appeared onscreen, then faded into nothingness as the scene dimmed.

The entire opening sequence lasted eight minutes.

Though not long, Ning Shu felt enveloped by urgency, desperate to skip ahead and enter the game.

He needed every second to earn sacrificial power.

【Welcome to Monster World. Choose your initial Soul Core.】

A blue crystal wall containing primordial monsters materialized from nothingness, rapidly drawing closer in Ning Shu’s vision.

Without hesitation, he focused his gaze on the Scatter Arrow Soul Core and completed his selection.

For early-game power, forum players universally recommend the Three Illusionary Gods.

Especially for team players, the Three Illusionary Gods provide powerful traits in output, tanking, and perception—no weaknesses in the early stage.

But for pure kill efficiency, nothing beats Soul Core traits like Critical Strike, Forceful Axe, Thunder Rush, and Scatter Arrow—those built for extreme damage output.

Among them, the Scatter Arrow Soul Core delivers both potent single-target damage and area-of-effect capability.

Most importantly, the Scatter Arrow Soul Core is a ranged output type.

For early-game progression, Scatter Arrow is one of the strongest choices for solo players.

Its only flaw is accuracy—most players unfamiliar with bows find this drawback outweighs its advantages.

Before Monster World launched, Ning Shu had played archers in other games.

So this time, he unhesitatingly locked onto the Scatter Arrow Bow, planning to pursue an extreme ranged burst path to maximize hunting efficiency.

…

Several minutes later.

Amid curses and shoving, Ning Shu pushed through the crowd and entered the newly launched beginner scenario: Eternal Silent Firefly Lake.

The biting wind struck him, making him shiver.

He immediately switched to Soul Core form—his body twisted and transformed into a hovering longbow wreathed in blazing flame.

Few players were around; everywhere he looked, snail-like monsters crawled.

They bore translucent crimson shells, leaving behind trails of fine ice spines where they slithered—seen from afar, they looked like clusters of mobile crimson crystals.

A scan revealed their information in his mind.

【Frost Erosion Snail Spirit (Monster)】:

Hunting Level: 2

Target Description: One of the unique monster types in the Eternal Silent Firefly Lake region, feeding on atmospheric ice-elemental spiritual energy, existing at the lowest rung of the food chain, poor in combat.

…

The bowstring tightened; his gaze locked onto the Frost Erosion Snail Spirit.

Qi and blood released, converging at the center of the bowstring, forming a burning arrow of condensed vitality.

Bing.

The flaming blood arrow tore through the cold air, leaving a crimson trail.

The snail’s ice-crystal head shattered on impact; the rest of its body instantly retracted into its shell.

No kill notification appeared—instead, the snail’s remaining flesh rapidly regenerated, spraying web-like ice filaments from its severed neck, weaving a new head shape.

Ning Shu swiftly retreated, creating distance; a second arrow already hummed taut on the string.

Bing.

This shot struck at a different angle, piercing the snail’s forehead and embedding into its shell.

The fiery vitality wrapped around the arrow clashed with the extreme cold within the shell, erupting in clouds of steam.

This process lasted several seconds—then a challenge prompt echoed in his mind.

An invisible force surged into his body, elevating his Soul Core to Level 2, enhancing all attributes.

After this initial encounter, Ning Shu analyzed the monster’s traits.

High regeneration, low defense.

This opening wasn’t difficult.

Among current beginner villages, the hardest early-game challenges were the mechanical lifeforms (cleaning robots) of the Dungeon World and the plant-based lifeforms of the Sen Luo Forest Realm.

Both possessed extreme defense, making them difficult for new players to handle.

Only monsters with relatively high regeneration were considered friendly openings.

Realizing he hadn’t chosen the wrong Soul Core, Ning Shu felt exhilarated and immediately switched targets.

After killing another Frost Erosion Snail Spirit, he swiftly drifted farther away.

The number of nearby players was surging—if he didn’t leave now, he’d be drowned by the new player Black Tide.

With each monster slain, Ning Shu ventured farther into unexplored territory.

Soon, his level reached 4.

The Scatter Arrow Soul Core delivered exceptional kill efficiency—this was the core reason he chose it.

Only by raising his Soul Core level could he hunt higher-level monsters and earn greater sacrificial power returns.

The only drawback: each attack consumed qi and blood.

With no Duan Ti level and no Qi-absorbing Soul Core to assist, he could only restore his condition by continuously drinking potions from the Mall during hunts.

Potion expenses accounted for roughly 20% of his earnings.

As he hunted forward, the white, barren landscape offered little variety—except for ice spikes piercing the Firefly Lake’s surface.

Occasionally, massive shadows glided beneath his feet, sending chills down his spine.

A one-hour death cooldown was far too long for someone racing against death.

Arriving at a new area, he spotted many discarded snail shells scattered across the ice; he quickly gathered them, planning to sell them later after downloading the “Gold Trend Plugin” to compare prices.

Time slipped away, second by second.

On the seventh day, dawn had not yet broken.

The ice mist churned in silence, suddenly torn open by a streak of crimson light.

Accompanied by a piercing whistle, the arrowhead locked onto a flying Splitting Ice Moth, trailing two spiraling streams of blood-red energy.

Puchī!

The moth’s glass-like body froze instantly upon contact with the arrow—its ice wings twisted, shattered, and exploded into countless burning shards that scattered in all directions.

The nearby moth swarm was instantly alarmed.

In an instant, the entire ice mist boiled—dozens of translucent wings vibrated simultaneously, condensing fine frost needles into the air.

With material sales and hunting gains, Ning Shu—now at Level 1 Duan Ti—faced the approaching moth swarm without panic; he drew his bow, stepped forward, and spun.

His gaze fixed on the horizon, the bowstring taut as a full moon, qi and blood coiling into spiral fire patterns along the arrow.

Bing!

A stream of crimson energy shot forth.

Another ice moth exploded midair; before its burning remains hit the ground, Ning Shu leapt sideways into the air, releasing his third arrow.

This time, the arrow pierced two overlapping ice moths.

Challenge prompts echoed incessantly in his mind, but he ignored them, calmly retreating backward.

After creating distance from the ice moth swarm, he drew his bow again, leaped backward, and released the string.

Bing!

The arrow pierced the wind and struck precisely into the head of an ice moth attempting to dive down.

In the instant the ice crystal core shattered, one fragment, spinning through the air, briefly reflected Ning Shu’s icy pupils.

Rhythm, control, hunting.

Seven days of relentless hunting had significantly improved Ning Shu’s hunting ability.

Including arrow accuracy, the enhanced physical conditioning granted him greater control, causing his hunting efficiency to skyrocket.

But a sense of urgency never left his mind.

He dared not pause for a moment.

When his health bar dropped, he drank a recovery potion; when his stamina ran low, he drank a stamina potion—there was no rest in his eyes.

Amid continued skirmishes, Ning Shu’s movements were devoid of waste; each draw of the bow brought down one ice moth.

Blood-arrow trails carved crimson paths through the ice mist, and the moth swarm rapidly dwindled.

He had thoroughly reviewed a skill-up guide posted by the Arena Faction leader “Phase Kill” on the forum, and one line had left a deep impression.

“Combat is not performance—it’s subtraction.”

Excessive movements expose intent; flashy combos waste stamina.

To improve technique, you must continuously eliminate redundant motions and forge a highly condensed combat logic.

Once you grow accustomed to efficient combat rhythm, your body internalizes this logic as instinct.

This was precisely the combat rhythm Ning Shu had been learning for the past seven days.

Following Phase Kill’s method, he centered his actions on observation, lock-on, and kill—avoiding high-frequency shooting, pursuing only the most efficient kill patterns.

By today, he realized that training with this technique had accelerated his growth dramatically.

In movement, he used only shuffling steps and sprinting, never wasting stamina on rolls.

In output, he timed his shots to coincide with the ice moths’ wing-beat gaps, drastically reducing the chance of evasion.

The “fight-and-run” tactic seemed mundane, but once mastered, it became a precisely interlocked gear system.

Boom!

The last ice moth exploded into a fireball and crashed to the ground, its blood-aura cluster rising and flying toward him, seeping into his skin.

The challenger notification followed immediately.

Scanning his surroundings and confirming no nearby threats, Ning Shu decisively summoned the Star Vein interface.

In his mind, his spine was encircled by starlight; the first Star Vein slot at the top held the Scatter Arrow Nascent Soul.

At this moment, he consumed sacrificial power to open a second Star Vein slot.

For his second Nascent Soul, he purchased the Power-Bulldozer Axe Nascent Soul, which offered exceptional value.

The highest output boost came from the Critical Strike Nascent Soul.

But Critical Strike was a fifth-generation Nascent Soul, priced at thirty thousand sacrificial power—far beyond his current means.

The first-generation Origin Power-Bulldozer Axe cost only five hundred sacrificial power.

For a newcomer like him, mindlessly choosing Power-Bulldozer Axe was the optimal solution.

After embedding it, the passive effects auto-equipped; knowledge related to the Power-Bulldozer trait flooded his mind.

With his Body Strengthening level at only 1, he could not inherit the Power-Bulldozer Axe’s attributes beyond its trait effect.

But with an extra 50% damage bonus from the Power-Bulldozer Axe alone, he could hunt stronger monsters—this was the charm of the Star Vein system.

Every new Nascent Soul embedded, even without attribute bonuses, delivered terrifying combat power increases.

Before entering the game, he had considered pursuing the Monster Flow path.

This playstyle was strong early on and required no Star Vein slots—perfect for going all-in.

It would save vast amounts of sacrificial power otherwise spent on upgrading Star Veins and Body Strengthening.

But upon closer thought, this approach carried risks.

At level 10+, Monster Flow forms grow rapidly, making them easy targets for focused fire in monster-dense areas.

One death meant a one-hour cooldown.

He simply couldn’t afford it.

At this stage, Monster Flow suited players with friend groups—not lone wolves.

He had considered joining a player squad for cooperative hunting.

But his combat rhythm was too fast; his high-intensity style was incompatible with unreliable pick-up teams.

Moreover, he feared the wasted energy from conflicts over loot distribution.

After briefly adjusting his Star Vein, Ning Shu pressed deeper into the fog-covered region on his map.

Unknown regions carried unknown risks—but also meant possible chance events.

Along the way, he opened his functional panel and checked the latest Newcomer Rush leaderboard.

After seven days of nonstop hunting, his total Nascent Soul level ranked only 112th—still far from the top 100.

Especially the top-ranked “Emperor,” who had pulled ahead by three full Nascent Soul levels—he couldn’t imagine how.

He had to push harder; six hours remained until the event ended.

Just a 5% increase in total Nascent Soul level would land him in the top 100, granting him thirty thousand sacrificial power.

While sprinting, his vision spotted two monsters.

Scanning them revealed them as level-18 hunting monsters: Buried Snow.

They resembled foxes, draped in snowy fur, moving with swift agility.

Facing two at once carried significant risk.

As Ning Shu hesitated, the two Buried Snow foxes simultaneously sensed him; their ear tips twitched, their white fur rippling like liquid mercury, reflecting cold glints.

It was too late to retreat now.

Without hesitation, Ning Shu raised his right hand; the Scatter Bow coalesced in his palm, crimson blood-fire coiling around the string.

Bing!

The arrow pierced the air, leaving a searing trail, aimed straight at the left Buried Snow’s throat.

But the fox reacted instantly, shifting sideways like a phantom—the arrow grazed its ear tip and struck the ice.

Simultaneously, the right Buried Snow fox moved.

It slammed its paw down; the ice shattered, and countless sharp ice spikes erupted upward, lancing toward Ning Shu’s feet.

Magic-type monster!

Ning Shu’s pupils contracted; he tapped his toe and instantly retreated three meters—the ice spikes pierced the ground just beneath his boots.

Before he could steady himself, the left Buried Snow fox lunged forward as a blur, its claw-blades sheathed in glacial ice, aimed at his throat.

At the last instant, Ning Shu twisted his waist and flipped backward, bracing one hand on the ground to barely evade.

The fox’s claw scraped his neck, leaving a thin blood trail.

He pushed off with his right hand, adjusted his landing, and snapped the bowstring sideways like a blade; blood-fire erupted at close range, repelling the fox for an instant—his right hand already gripped the string. Bing!

The arrow pierced the Buried Snow fox’s shoulder blade at near-zero distance; the explosive blood-fire detonated on its shoulder, staining its white fur crimson.

It let out a piercing shriek, staggering backward, while the other Buried Snow fox closed in immediately.

Ning Shu had no time to draw his bow—he flipped the Scatter Bow backward and struck with his elbow; blood-fire wrapped the longbow as he met the fox’s charge head-on.

Boom!

The shockwave exploded; Ning Shu was thrown backward in a series of steps, and the fox was flipped over—but as soon as it hit the ground, it adjusted its stance, sprang forward again.

The previously wounded Buried Snow fox had also regained its footing, eyes blazing with vicious fury, flanking from the other side.

Realizing he was surrounded, Ning Shu retreated decisively to create distance.

He stretched out the foxes’ charge paths, forcing them to converge as they sprinted.

But in speed, he was clearly outmatched.

Just as one Buried Snow fox leapt into the air.

Ning Shu leaped backward, suspended midair, bow held horizontally, fingers gripping the string—two burning blood-arrows formed rapidly; his health bar dropped to 15%.

This strike—he gave it everything.

Without a “Mark” Nascent Soul to aid him, hitting both targets relied entirely on instinct.

He drew a deep breath, his gaze hardening, then released the string.

“Hit!”

The arrows flew like a rainbow piercing the sun, piercing both Buried Snow foxes’ bodies.

Explosive blood-fire consumed them entirely; their white fur turned to ash in the flames, leaving only two ice-blue cores falling to the ground, radiating a faint, chilling glow.

Ning Shu collapsed onto the ice, drenched in sweat, yet his Iron Face bore an unmistakable smile.

He had succeeded.

He reached up to wipe the blood trickling down his neck.

The fight ended quickly—but it had been terrifyingly close; had he been half a second slower, he’d be lying there now.

He bent down, picked up the Buried Snow foxes’ ice cores; a bone-chilling cold surged through his fingertips—he swiftly stowed them in his space satchel and pressed on.

On the snowfield, the cold wind howled as before.

Ning Shu’s figure vanished into the blizzard, leaving only two lingering blood-fire pools on the ice, slowly fading in the wind.

Six hours later.

As Ning Shu swallowed a stamina-repair potion, a game notification echoed in his mind:

[Challenger Notification: Congratulations! You have ranked #98 on the “Level-Up Carnival” special event leaderboard and received a Sacrificial Power reward: 30,000 points.]

30,000 Sacrificial Power has been secured.

But it is far from enough.

The cost to book passage to the Erosion Clan starts at ten million credit points; additional fees apply after selecting medical service options.

He checked the medical procedures his mother needed. Even with the Sacrificial Power discount, it would cost 90,000 Sacrificial Power.

Only twelve days remain—he must hurry.

The only thing making him hesitate was whether to use these 30,000 Sacrificial Power points to enhance his strength.

The stronger his strength, the higher his hunting efficiency.

But he had only twelve days left; to earn 90,000 Sacrificial Power in that time, he needed 7,500 points daily—a crushing burden.

He even felt it was impossible.

So he decided to temporarily store this portion of Sacrificial Power and decide later based on future hunting efficiency.

Three hours later.

On the ice plain, the freezing wind howled; Ning Shu’s boots crushed the frost layer, and the bloodfire of his Scatterbow already coiled around the arrowheads.

Thirty paces away, a group of Ice Crystal Scorpions—hunting level 19–25—twitched their tail stingers; ice spikes suddenly pierced the air.

As the arrow shot forth, dense ice spikes already filled his vision.

Hss!

His calf was pierced; in searing pain, he grunted and knelt, then rolled with the momentum—where he had knelt, ice spikes now stood thickly embedded.

Before he could raise his bow, a second assault came.

With no escape, he growled low, pouring bloodfire into the bowstring and firing a single, sudden shot.

The Scatterbow roared; the arrow instantly pierced the Ice Crystal Scorpion locked in his gaze.

But Ning Shu could not evade the barrage of ice spikes—he was instantly pinned to the ground and dissolved into mist.

This was his first death in eight days; Ning Shu’s spirits plummeted.

One hour of resurrection cooldown, plus travel time, wasted several hours of hunting.

“There’s still time.”

After cheering himself on, he entered the forum and replayed his battle footage at accelerated speed.

In the footage, monster density in the Eternal Ice Firefly Lake region was extremely high; throughout, he had avoided dense monster groups while moving.

But he still occasionally couldn’t escape being surrounded.

This time, he couldn’t escape—he could only return via death.

The open terrain of the Ice Firefly Lake region had pros and cons.

As a ranged archer, he had no blind spots in the Eternal Ice Firefly Lake region; unlike the Senluo Forest Realm, which was complex and choked with vegetation.

But this environment also had a critical flaw.

With no cover, he was extremely vulnerable to being targeted by multiple enemies.

Monsters with ranged attacks released strikes that were nearly impossible to dodge without cover—especially area-of-effect attacks.

Team and squad players had tankers deploying blood shields and support players casting light shields to counter this; solitary players like him had no defense.

His hunting error tolerance dropped sharply.

The best solution seemed to be teaming up with a tanking-type player.

To compensate for his own output shortcomings.

But in the Monster World gaming circle, there was an unwritten rule: when teaming with a tanking-type player, the loot share must favor the tank.

Second, medicine costs had to be split.

Only squads of five or more could afford to support a tanking-type player.

Partnering with a statue-type player would raise his error tolerance but drastically reduce his own gains.

And his skills weren’t yet strong enough to move freely through monster crowds—his solo play remained problematic.

How could he ensure his safety in open terrain? Ning Shu fell into deep thought.

It seemed an unsolvable problem.

He scrolled through forum data; ten minutes remained until resurrection cooldown ended.

As Ning Shu browsed the forum’s Nascent Soul database, one Nascent Soul suddenly sparked inspiration.

[Control (Second-Generation Nascent Soul)]:

Trait Description: Controls creatures with weaker spiritual power than oneself via spiritual shock; number of controlled targets depends on one’s own spiritual strength, target spiritual strength, and Nascent Soul rank.

…

After reading the Control Nascent Soul’s description, Ning Shu suddenly conceived a potentially viable playstyle.

Raising a growth-type pet requires massive Sacrificial Power investment upfront.

But the Control Nascent Soul had no such constraint—he could embed a Control Nascent Soul, then capture powerful external monsters and use them as tanking units.

If captured monsters suffered limb loss or other damage during battle, no medicine was needed—just replace them.

And there was no issue with profit sharing.

Having a personal pet would greatly increase his exploration error tolerance.

He glanced at the detailed stats of the Control Nascent Soul.

The blood and spiritual power ratio gained from leveling the Nascent Soul was 3:7—within acceptable range, no adjustment needed.

After all, controlling targets relied on one’s own spiritual strength.

If spiritual strength was too low, he couldn’t capture targets at all.

Convinced this method might work, Ning Shu decided to test it after resurrection.

Ten minutes later, Ning Shu resurrected in the Eternal Ice Firefly Lake space.

Upon logging in, he was startled by the scene before him.

The novice space was filled with players; the resurrection teleport point bubbled like popcorn, spewing new figures—within seconds, he was shoved aside.

The vast majority were players resurrected after dying in the wild.

He muted the noisy region chat channel and followed the crowd forward.

During this, he summoned the Star Vein interface, first spending 2,000 Sacrificial Power to unlock a third Star Vein slot, then spending 3,000 Sacrificial Power to purchase and embed the Second-Generation Control Nascent Soul.

Everything prepared; now only testing remained.

…

Two hours later.

The freezing wind swept ice crystals across the Eternal Ice Firefly Lake.

Boom!

With a thunderous crash, a massive figure collapsed heavily onto the thick ice.

It was a “Frostplate Colossus,” hunting level 22, three meters tall, its body sheathed in interlocking ice-prism keratin layers, each bone spike tipped with blue-purple frost.

Exhausted, Ning Shu stood still, looked up at the fallen Frostplate Colossus, and his Scatterbow dissolved.

He did not linger; from his space satchel he took a stamina potion, swallowed it, then knelt before the monster and activated the Control trait.

Spiritual power formed invisible threads, shooting from his brow and seeping into the monster’s body.

During this time, he drank two spiritual power recovery potions; finally, he etched the Control Mark into the Frostplate Colossus’s spiritual mind.

How to command the Frostplate Colossus required no learning—it was as natural as breathing, imprinted in his mind.

He took potions from his space satchel and administered them to restore the Frostplate Colossus’s condition.

From now on, this monster would serve as his tank, providing defensive protection for his Ice Firefly Lake exploration.

After three doses of basic potions, the Frostplate Colossus’s wounds healed visibly.

“Rise!”

The command given, the Frostplate Colossus staggered to its feet.

After testing other commands and confirming they worked, Ning Shu decided to enter real combat hunting immediately.

More than ten minutes later.

Ning Shu stood behind the Frostplate Colossus, watching three “Icefang Predators” leap from cracked ice.

Resembling giant lizards, they bore blade-like ice fangs, hunting level 19, pack-hunting predators that primarily fed on Snail Spirits.

Eyes met; combat ignited.

“Block!” Ning Shu thought.

The Frostplate Colossus immediately lumbered forward, its three-meter frame standing like an ice wall.

The three Icefang Predators lunged, slamming into its torso; their sharp ice fangs scraped against the keratin layer with screeching noise, leaving only shallow scratches.

The recoil sent the predators stumbling back; the Frostplate Colossus didn’t budge—blue-purple frost spread backward from contact points, freezing one predator’s toe claws.

Now!

Ning Shu sidestepped, slipping out from beside the Frostplate Colossus’s leg, drawing his Scatterbow fully.

An arrow wrapped in bloodfire shot forth, piercing the eye socket of the predator whose front limbs were frozen.

The arrowhead’s bloodlight exploded; the predator’s head burst like a watermelon, blue-ice brain matter splattering the snow.

The other two predators immediately changed tactics, circling left and right around the Frostplate Colossus, charging straight at Ning Shu.

“Shock.”

The Frostplate Colossus suddenly raised its forelimb and slammed it hard onto the ice.

Boom!

Centered on it, a ring of ice waves exploded outward in a circular pattern, sending the two predators tumbling off-balance.

One of them rolled right to Ning Shu’s feet; he fired an arrow without hesitation, piercing its open throat, the shaft emerging from the back of its cervical vertebrae and pinning it to the ice.

The last predator, sensing the Black Tide had turned, turned and fled.

“Stop it!”

Frostplate Giant curled into a ball, its bony spines protruding outward, then rolled forward like a colossal ice meteor, closing the distance to its prey in an instant.

Its crushing weight pinned the predator beneath it; Ning Shu’s arrow followed swiftly, piercing the exposed skull.

The battle ended with remarkable ease, eliminating the need for prolonged maneuvering and baiting.

Frostplate Giant trudged back to his side, its carapace now bearing several claw marks, but otherwise unharmed.

Ning Shu patted its icy shell, thoroughly satisfied with its performance.

This behemoth perfectly fulfilled its role as a tank, allowing Ning Shu to output damage safely—its efficiency far surpassed solo hunting by several times.

He gazed into the depths of the ice Firefly Lake, where more shadows drifted faintly within the howling white ice mist.

“Let’s go.”

Frostplate Giant let out a low growl and followed behind him, its heavy footsteps carrying them both into the swirling sea of ice crystals until their figures vanished.

The next several days.

With Frostplate Giant’s aid, Ning Shu’s hunting style grew even more aggressive.

During this time, he destroyed three Frostplate Giants, but quickly captured new ones to serve as his tank.

Sacrificial power income steadily increased during this period.

Yet eight days remained, and his sacrificial power stood at only 46,000—still 44,000 short of his goal.

At his current hunting pace, it was impossible to close the gap; he must attempt challenging higher-level monsters.

Before that, he needed to replace his current pet with one possessing greater tanking capability.

Only if his pet could withstand the blows could he sustain his own output.

During his travels, Ning Shu actively sought new tanking monsters, scanning every new creature he encountered with his Analysis.

He ignored all other stats—tanking strength was the only criterion.

Damage output would be his own responsibility.

…

The next day.

After dispelling a patch of map fog, Ning Shu arrived at a region riddled with cracked ground, accompanied by his new four-meter-tall companion.

From Frostplate Giant’s perspective, Ning Shu sensed an invisible pressure emanating from this area.

Yet as a player, he himself felt absolutely nothing.

Sensing danger ahead, he had originally planned to follow Frostplate Giant’s instinct and detour.

But he recalled forum posts from Exploration Faction players: sometimes danger concealed opportunity.

Remembering how far he still was from his sacrificial power goal, he gritted his teeth and chose to press forward—though he resolved to retreat instantly at the first sign of peril.

Not long after, he spotted a crystalline statue half-buried in the ice ahead.

The statue resembled a giant ape, bearing three pairs of eyes on its head and six arms along its back; its chest was pierced by some sharp weapon, the wound sealed with black-purple ice crystals.

Though frozen, Ning Shu, through Frostplate Giant’s senses, felt a faint yet oppressive aura radiating from the statue.

Curious, he activated Analysis and scanned the statue.

Instantly, the statue’s information appeared in his mind.

【Six-Armed Frost】:

Hunting Level: 42 (Original Life Level: 382)

Status: Severely wounded, near death, frozen in hibernation, life force critically depleted…

Target Description: One of the Six-Armed Clan’s guardians, who fought to defend the ice Firefly Lake tribe against the Mechanical Legion, ultimately failed, lost the clan’s resources, and after the battle, descended into the Eternal Ice Firefly Lake, falling into a near-death hibernation.

…

Seeing the Analysis data—especially the original level—Ning Shu was stunned.

The Hunting Level of a Champion Duelist was only 382.

Yet this unremarkable statue, one he’d barely glanced at while passing, had once been a 382-level Hunting Level monster.

“Hss~.”

Ning Shu’s heart pounded; a bold idea suddenly struck him.

(End of Chapter)