Chapter Forty-Two: The Calm Before the Storm

Yitian had scarcely left the Fulong Mountains when he spotted Yifeng, Yishan, and the others, their faces anxious as they waited. When they saw Yitian return unharmed, they all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Once the Reincarnation Squad had regrouped, they hurried back to the tribe.

The entire tribe was enveloped in an atmosphere of tension and bustling activity. None of the warriors ventured out anymore, and vast quantities of supplies were being brought out from the tribe. The iron-tipped arrows were piled high, covering the ancestral temple’s plaza—at least ten million in number. These arrows, forged from refined iron, formed a mountain of gleaming metal, cold light radiating in all directions, shaking the hearts of everyone in the tribe.

Even Yitian and his companions were stunned by the sight of this mountain of arrows. Ten million arrows was an immense number, enough to meet the tribe’s needs for decades. Yishan and Yifeng were utterly shocked. Once, all their wealth could buy only a few dozen refined iron arrows, each arrow a precious treasure not to be used lightly. Now, before their eyes, arrows were stacked like hills, leaving them speechless and unable to recover for a long moment.

Even Yikuang and Yihong, the sons of the chieftain and grand leader, were startled by the sight. Wasn’t this just preparation for the coming beast tide? To need ten million arrows was an exaggeration—likely all the refined iron arrows in Black Dragon City had been swept away. Even the reticent Yili couldn’t help but exclaim, “This is truly a grand gesture.”

The tribe’s elders did not take lightly the astonishment and unease among the people. They were intimately familiar with the horrors of beast tides, as their ancestors' records warned of them with dread. The Yi clan had once flourished, but over the long years, they had nearly been destroyed by beast tides several times.

Many of the Yi clan’s strongest warriors fell during those waves, their legacy gradually lost. The current Yi clan were merely descendants of survivors, growing weaker and more diminished over generations.

Of course, ordinary beast tides wouldn’t cause the Yi clan’s decline. Every few thousand, or even tens of thousands of years, the vast Fulong Mountains—stretching for millions of miles—would erupt in boundless beast tides. Ferocious beasts surged from the depths of the mountains, blanketing the land in devastation and leaving billions of corpses in their wake.

Each time a beast tide erupted, numerous sects were annihilated. Now, once more, a beast tide was brewing. Even if it was a small one, for the Yi clan, it was a grave crisis.

Meanwhile, the chieftain and several elders decided that if the tribe faced extinction, they would lead everyone into the underground chambers beneath the tribe—a final sanctuary. This subterranean refuge had been carved out thousands of years ago by the clan’s ancestors, who then possessed earth-level masters. A hundred fathoms below the surface, they had created a space large enough to shelter tens of thousands.

This underground haven was the tribe’s greatest secret, known only to those at the elder level. The return of the Reincarnation Squad brought relief to the chieftain and elders; they had been the last to come back. Upon returning, Yitian disbanded the squad, sending everyone off to cultivate.

When Yitian arrived home, his mother, Su Yue’e, along with Xiaolong and Xiaoting, were all delighted to see him. His mother immediately went to the kitchen to busy herself. Yitian took out chunks of ferocious beast meat from his storage pouch and handed them to his mother for preparation. Then, he laughed and played with Xiaolong and Xiaoting.

Little Black, who had been waiting eagerly, approached him; over the past month, it hadn’t absorbed a single spirit stone, and had suffered greatly. Seeing Yitian’s return, it rushed over at once. With only a few days until the tribe would distribute the next batch of spirit stones, Yitian generously gave Little Black the remaining three hundred or so stones he had left.

He knew Little Black’s origins were extraordinary, and its future achievements would be phenomenal. Yitian was happy to nurture Little Black into a true three-headed demon hound; with it guarding his home, his family would be safest.

Over the following days, Yitian gave the remaining spirit stones, as well as the hundreds of essence pills he’d obtained throughout the month, to his Star Mud clone to absorb. Yet, despite this vast energy, the clone failed to evolve into the crimson state.

Having been reverted to its original form, the Star Mud clone found it extremely difficult to deduce the next progression of the Pure Yang Technique. Previously, in its crimson state, the clone would open a new meridian route every few days, but now, the results were poor—errors and mishaps abounded, causing the clone to go astray, making little progress and greatly reducing efficiency.

The Pure Yang Technique, improved and deduced by Yitian, was now ranked as a mid-grade earth-level skill, containing many profound mysteries. To continue advancing it, the clone’s current white-star state simply couldn’t withstand the strain.

On the fifth day after the Reincarnation Squad’s return, Yitian went to the ancestral temple and received one thousand mid-grade spirit stones and two hundred eighty thousand low-grade spirit stones from the chieftain.

The thousand mid-grade stones were a delightful surprise. From his conversation with the chieftain, Yitian learned that the tribe’s mining had penetrated over a hundred miles, reaching the area where mid-grade spirit stones could be found.

Each mid-grade stone was worth a hundred low-grade stones, so a thousand mid-grade stones equaled a hundred thousand low-grade stones. These tens of thousands of low-grade stones represented twenty percent of the tribe’s monthly yield, and Yitian received more than half of that, enough for the Star Mud to advance to crimson, and to feed Little Black.

Of course, this quantity paled in comparison to the massive spirit stone veins—barely a drop in the bucket. Thus, neither the chieftain nor the elders objected to allocating Yitian’s group a fifth of the output.

Especially considering the members of the Reincarnation Squad: Yitian’s potential was enormous and worthy of the tribe’s full support. Yikuang and Yihong were upper-echelon descendants; Yifeng, Yishan, and Yili also showed promise and would one day become pillars of the tribe.

Moreover, the tribe had mined so many spirit stones in recent days—at least several million—all stored in the underground chambers. Even as they gradually increased the supply to the warriors, they could hardly spend much; it was a happy dilemma.

As the Yi clan tribe prepared for war, the ferocious beasts roaming the outer reaches of the Fulong Mountains made hunting and adventuring perilous, causing heavy losses. This anomaly stirred anxiety among nearby tribes.

The news of the impending beast tide soon reached Black Dragon City. All the local powers sent people to investigate, while also preparing, buying vast amounts of supplies and tightening security with guards and warriors.

The tidings of the beast tide swept across the land. Populations from villages and estates surged into Black Dragon City. Only its towering walls and tens of thousands of warriors could withstand the coming onslaught.

At the city gates, lines stretched endlessly day and night. Many families arrived together, some wielding weapons—cultivators who had achieved a degree of mastery.

Yet, Black Dragon City, though large, could not accommodate everyone. Entry was restricted: only cultivators or those of considerable wealth could gain entry.

Many people did not flock to the city, instead fortifying their castles, estates, and villages—digging trenches and traps, laying countless defenses, turning their homes into impregnable fortresses. Some even hid in underground tunnels or caves they had excavated.

All around Black Dragon City, the land was filled with fear and tension, an atmosphere thick with anxiety and dread.