Journey to the End of the Night Chapter 6 - 6 6 A Deer in the Deep Forest
Previously on Journey to the End of the Night...
6: Chapter 6: A Deer in the Deep Forest
Li Jiujiu remained quiet for a spell before uttering, “That is acceptable.
This sword possesses a unique quality, and should you find yourself facing a formidable adversary and be in peril, this very blade can serve to repel them.
At a crucial juncture, it may even preserve your existence.”
“I understand.”
“Very well, I shall depart now.
Take good care.”
“Mhm, you as well, be careful.” Baili An gazed up at the elegant woman, raising his hand in a gesture of farewell.
Li Jiujiu’s lips pressed together, and without another word, she gently channeled her spiritual power.
The Seven Stars treasured sword positioned beneath her feet elevated her form in a diagonal ascent towards the heavens.
Shortly thereafter, the sword's light became a distant streak across the sky, transforming into a meteor-like beam.
The sword, and its wielder, disappeared beyond the farthest reaches of the horizon.
Within the confines of the mountain forest, he found himself utterly alone at last.
That night, the world lay in a profound silence, utterly devoid of any audible sound.
Baili An was overcome with a sensation akin to returning to the Purple Gold Coffin, traversing a span of a thousand years, in complete and absolute solitude.
The biting mountain wind swept past him, lifting the hems of his blue and white Daoist robes, and the frigid currents seeped beneath his garments, yet he registered no sensation of cold.
However, this very absence of feeling sent a shiver of dread through him, making him acutely aware that his humanity had been stripped away.
Emotions such as loneliness, apprehension, and sorrow—these negative sentiments surfaced only in his solitary moments, much like the sediment settled at the riverbed of a seemingly tranquil stream, stirred only when disturbed.
It was only in these private moments that he could truly confront his most genuine self.
A wry smile touched Baili An’s lips as he mused that he must have been a person of considerable weakness and inadequacy in his previous existence.
He had declared he would not return to the sect with anyone, yet the moment she departed, he was here, submerged in a mire of mournful contemplation.
How utterly pathetic.
With a flourish, he secured the Autumnwater Sword, a gift from Li Jiujiu, at his waist. A sudden recollection prompted him to unconsciously extend his tongue, pressing it against the tips of his pronounced teeth.
Did they truly resemble the fangs of a tiger?
Baili An contemplated this query with deep thought.
He had intended to follow Li Jiujiu’s counsel and hunt a few beasts while his mind was still clear, to partake of some fresh blood.
It would be truly regrettable if he succumbed to a ravenous frenzy and attacked humans out of sheer desperation.
At present, he was a cultivator at the Second Grade, possessing the ability to absorb the spiritual energy of nature for Circulation. Furthermore, the fragmented memories he retained also provided him with a rudimentary understanding of the cultivation process.
This newly resurrected corpse demon exhibited a strength far exceeding that of ordinary humans and beasts.
The task of capturing prey was easily within his grasp, as he emitted no body heat and had no discernible breath.
Consequently, the creatures of the mountain could not rely on their natural senses to detect the imminent danger posed by Baili An.
Baili An succeeded in capturing a small plum blossom deer.
The young deer was remarkably endearing, its large, innocent eyes wide with dawning terror as it struggled with all its might.
A pang of pity stirred within Baili An, but he nevertheless employed the Autumnwater Sword to inflict a minor laceration upon the deer's fleshy hindquarters, collecting the resulting fresh blood within a newly acquired green leaf.
Holding the still-warm blood, Baili An’s brow furrowed slightly.
It was evident that adapting to a diet of raw flesh and blood presented a significant challenge for him.
Moreover, upon observing the blood glistening on the leaf, he felt absolutely no inclination to consume it.
His stomach conveyed no sensation of hunger.
Li Jiujiu had mentioned that his burial attire dated back several centuries.
Centuries had elapsed, yet he experienced no discernible hunger whatsoever.
He suddenly recalled that upon first regaining consciousness, even the simple act of raising his arms had been exceedingly arduous, and his tongue felt so stiff that he could only manage to utter rudimentary Corpse Language.
However, when the monk’s spiritual essence and blood were all dissipated following his demise upon the enigmatic small sword, his physical form regained its suppleness, and he was once again able to articulate words with fluency.
Baili An’s hand instinctively moved to the small sword resting upon his back, a chilling sensation coursing through his heart.
Could it be that the minuscule sword had absorbed all of that individual’s vital essence and blood, which had subsequently flowed into him?
Despite the absence of hunger, he proceeded to drink the collected blood, deeming it a waste to discard the deer’s life essence.
Enduring the accompanying discomfort, he consumed it in a single draught.
Corpse demons are characterized by a lack of taste, and Baili An was no exception to this rule.
The warmth of the deer’s blood flowed directly into his abdomen, and he perceived a subtle heat emanating from the pit of his stomach.
There, concealed from external observation, the faint Yin Yang Dao Fish exhibited a marginal increase in vitality, its rotation proceeding at an exceedingly gradual pace.
Although Baili An could not discern any flavor, the potent metallic aroma lingering in his mouth still caused him to slightly contort his features.
This method of sustenance was not to his liking.
Fortunately, the quantity of blood extracted was modest, and the resulting wound was minor, allowing the deer to resume its playful bounding with relative ease.
Curiously, despite having been wounded, the deer, after a short interval, seemed to lose its fear of him.
The gentle deer ambled around him, courageously sneaking licks at his hand whenever he wasn't looking. Perhaps the unafraid fawn sensed his benevolent intentions. A faint smile touched Baili An's lips as he retrieved some hemostatic herbs he'd previously gathered from the mountains. After crushing the herbs, he extended his hand, beckoning, "Little deer, come here. Let me examine the wound on your hindquarters and staunch the bleeding for you." This mountainous region, nestled amongst numerous small Cultivation Sects, was imbued with abundant spiritual energy, fostering unusual intelligence in its wildlife. The little deer seemed to comprehend Baili An's words and trotted obediently towards him. It presented its wound, settling down with a couple of pitiful, slightly aggrieved whimpers. Baili An chuckled softly; this little creature was indeed a Spirit Beast. He carefully applied the crushed herbal poultice to the deer's injured hindquarters. The medicine acted swiftly, quickly halting the bleeding from the deer's mishap. However, the application itself brought a sharp, stinging sensation. As anticipated, the deer flinched and cried out, preparing to bolt. "Don't be frightened, it will feel better soon." Baili An gently stroked the uninjured portion of the deer's hindquarters to calm it, then blew softly on the wound. The deer relaxed, remaining still. Baili An possessed no body heat, and the air he exhaled was naturally cool. Feeling the sting subside under the gentle breeze, the little deer comfortably nudged its hind legs against Baili An. Its buttocks were quite resilient, accustomed to frequent tumbles from its life in Shaolin, making it hardy and tough. Once the bleeding ceased, a scab promptly formed over the wound. Noticing Baili An pause his ministrations, the deer tilted its head to lick the injury but was immediately stopped. "No, the medicine is on it, and water could cause an infection if it gets wet." The deer emitted a soft bleat, seemingly in agreement. Yet, as if fate itself were conspiring against him, a fine drizzle began to fall from the night sky the moment he finished speaking. The rain wasn't heavy, but it was a persistent, fine mist that settled on the skin like a dusting of powder. It enveloped the grass, the trees, and the stones, slowly blanketing the secluded mountain forest in a light, drifting, damp haze. Baili An offered a wry smile, rapidly opened his robe, scooped the deer into his arms to shield the freshly medicated wound from the rain, and then began to run.