Chapter 276

Even without Shengling to guide them, Qi Bai believed they would eventually find the location of City of Ten Thousand Bones. However, Ling Qiu's offer was indeed quite good, and he was also somewhat curious about the orcs they described who lived deep in the forest.

Qi Bai and Lang Ze exchanged a glance, then said to Ling Qiu, "Alright, it’s a deal."

Outside the tent, the orcs of the Shengling tribe had already finished handling the hui snake.

The entire hui snake hide had been stretched out and hung up, while its bones were tied with grass rope to tree branches and stuck upright beside a large stone pot.

Around the stone pot, large chunks of snake meat were piled up. The pot was still steaming, bubbling with dark green foam. It was clear at a glance what kind of beast meat was being boiled in it.

Judging by the scene, Qi Bai felt that the Shengling people were probably preparing for a sacrificial ceremony.

Ling Ping handed him a somewhat translucent, deep brown item: “This is the venom sac of the hui snake. Tai already processed it for you, but before it hardens completely, be careful not to rupture it.”

Qi Bai took the pouch and carefully stored it. It would take at least several years for the venom sac to turn into a potent adhesive. Hui snake venom was extremely rare, and the size of this one’s sac was quite impressive—it would definitely make Hou Su jealous when he brought it back to the city.

Soon, the Shengling tribe's shaman came out. He circled the stone pot, chanting for a while, then threw in many strange items. Finally, with a grand wave of his hand, the surrounding orcs erupted in cheers.

They grabbed worn-out stone bowls and rushed to scoop the meat soup from the pot, shouting as they drank it down. Some even grabbed the raw meat next to the pot and began eating it directly.

Perhaps influenced by the geography of the Manghuang region, with its many mountains and toxic mists, the Shengling tribe’s sacrificial rites were far more wild and unrestrained than those of northern tribes—completely at odds with their gentle beast forms.

At this moment, Ling Ta came over from the direction of the altar holding two stone bowls. “For you.”

Qi Bai looked at the thick green soup with some hesitation.

Lang Ze, on the other hand, didn’t mind. He lifted the bowl to his nose, sniffed it, and, finding nothing unusual, threw his head back and downed it in one go.

“What does it taste like?” Qi Bai asked curiously.

Lang Ze: “...”

He hadn’t paid attention to the flavor at all. But since Qi Bai asked, he thought back and tried to recall it.

While he couldn't describe the taste, Lang Ze noticed that the hot soup in his stomach had turned into a wave of heat that quickly spread from his chest to his limbs.

“It’s good stuff,” Lang Ze said. “Drink it.”

Since even Lang Ze said so, Qi Bai didn’t hesitate further. He raised the bowl resolutely and gulped the soup down.

The hui snake soup had a strong fishy taste—it definitely wasn’t delicious, but it wasn’t unbearably strange either. Most food in orc tribes was like this—neither surprising nor disappointing.

As the hot soup entered his stomach, Qi Bai immediately understood what Lang Ze meant by "good stuff."

Once inside the body, the soup transformed into waves of warmth. Wherever the warmth flowed, the blood vessels relaxed and opened. Qi Bai felt as if the world before his eyes had become a bit clearer.

Seeing that the two appreciated its value, Ling Ta explained further in response to Qi Bai’s curious gaze: “This is the blessing of the Beast God upon the Shengling tribe. After drinking the sacrificial food, you won’t be corroded by the toxic mists of the Manghuang.”

Qi Bai hadn’t expected the soup to have such an extra effect. He asked, “Can it also protect against the poison mist in the swamps?”

Ling Ta replied slowly, “I don’t know. I won’t be trying it either.”

So basically—that means it probably won’t work there.

Qi Bai thought to himself, This soup wasn’t given for free after all. In the end, it’s still to get us to go do something for them in the misty forest.

Come to think of it, the Shengling tribe’s shaman and chief weren’t all that reliable. If the mist in the Mist Forest was poisonous, why didn’t they mention it earlier?

Qi Bai didn’t dwell on the swamp issue and instead raised his bowl: “Just one bowl won’t be enough. Why not give us a few more to take on the road?”

Ling Ta glanced at Qi Bai, silently took both their bowls, turned around, and left—clearly not planning to prepare any extra for them.

Qi Bai wrinkled his nose and muttered quietly to Lang Ze, “So stingy.”

By the time the sacrificial ceremony ended, night had already fallen. Ling Ping emptied a tent to host Qi Bai and Lang Ze.

The tent was spacious and sturdy, but its interior was extremely simple—not the kind of place someone would live in long-term.

In the center of the tent, a fire crackled. Qi Bai roasted the meat they’d received in exchange for the hui snake, while organizing their belongings.

The Mist Forest earned its name not only because of the year-round thick fog hanging in the trees but also due to its dense vegetation.

Qi Bai had glanced at it from a distance during the day. Even in winter, when the leaves had dried, the forest was so thick and shadowy that he couldn’t see clearly inside. Clearly, the paths would be difficult, so there was no need to bring saddles along.

Most of the supplies they’d brought were food, and much of it had already been consumed. Qi Bai consolidated everything into two beast-hide backpacks.

These backpacks resembled modern hiking packs and were made of pure cowhide—sturdy and convenient to carry.

Small iron pot, water bottle, notebook, spice packs... everything was packed and ready. The only thing left was to roll up the sleeping bags in the morning and strap them onto the backpacks.

Outside the tent, footsteps occasionally passed by—Qi Bai’s ears twitched. They were likely cubs drawn by the smell of roasting meat.

Before long, the tent flap lifted, and Lang Ze came in with a chill in the air.

Qi Bai asked, “Any news?”

Lang Ze removed the beast-hide cloak from his shoulders and draped it over the saddles, then sat down beside Qi Bai and said, “Pretty much what we suspected. Ling Ping and Ling Ta don’t usually live in the tribe. Their group came back specifically to hunt the hui snake.”

Lang Ze had made a few rounds around the Shengling tribe and picked up most of the intel he needed.

Qi Bai analyzed, “The gold-eating beastmen they mentioned—could they be beastmen who’ve consumed Gu Jin?”

Lang Ze nodded. “Very likely. It also matches what Ji told us. There are many gold-eating beastmen here, but their fusion with Gu Jin is clearly not as stable as the monkey beastmen of the Sangmeng tribe. At least, those monkeys don’t show visible changes on their skin, and they don’t suddenly explode and die in battle.”

“The Shengling tribe is fighting against the gold-eating beastmen, which explains why they’re so tense with the City of Ten Thousand Bones. No wonder they’re unwilling to reveal its location.” Qi Bai had thought their attitude was strange earlier, but now it all made sense.

Lang Ze: “The gold-eating beastmen of the City of Ten Thousand Bones have a high consumption rate. To create more of those monsters, they must constantly replenish with more orcs.”

In ten years, the smaller tribes around City of Ten Thousand Bones had probably already been taken over—otherwise, they wouldn’t be turning their attention toward the isolated Manghuang region.

Qi Bai clenched his fist: “So, the reason the Shengling tribe wants us to go into the Mist Forest is to look for allies?”

“Probably more than that.” Lang Ze drew a simple map in the dirt. A tall mountain range on the left, a vast forest in the middle, and a small dot on the right representing the Shengling tribe.

Lang Ze said, “From the looks of it, the distance between the mountains and the Shengling tribe shouldn’t take more than two days to travel. But these orcs take five days to return.”

“I suspect their battlefield is around here.” He pointed to the middle of the mountain range, then drew a path connecting the Shengling tribe to a checkpoint, skirting the forest, “The Mist Forest blocks their path, forcing them to take a

longer detour.”

Lang Ze drew a straight line between the checkpoint and the Shengling tribe. “So yes, they do want allies—but more importantly, they need a route through the Mist Forest to make resupplying easier.”

Qi Bai held his breath, listening intently to Lang Ze’s analysis. He knew Lang Ze had a sharp sense for military logistics, but still—he hadn’t expected that within just two hours of being out, Lang Ze could piece together this much.

With starry eyes, Qi Bai looked at Lang Ze: “So by helping them, we’re actually helping ourselves too.”

Having the Shengling tribe keeping the gold-eating beastmen occupied would make things a lot easier for them.

“Mm.” Lang Ze wiped the dirt map away and rubbed Qi Bai’s forehead. “Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow morning, we’ll head out with Ling Ping’s group.”

---

The next morning, the two of them strapped on their packs and followed the group to the edge of the Mist Forest.

“There are occasionally signs of beastmen in this area. We think they’re left by the forest dwellers. I suggest you enter from here,” said Ling Ping, sitting atop Ling Ta's back. She pointed toward a gap in the trees. “Ling Ta and I tried crossing the forest, but every time, we ended up going in circles. We were lucky to make it back. Many beastmen have lost their way in the forest and never found an exit. Hopefully, you won’t be one of them.”

Qi Bai sniffed, thinking her blessing sounded more like a curse. “We’ll be careful.”

After watching Ling Ping and her group depart, Qi Bai and Lang Ze entered the forest.

Before entering, Qi Bai had thought the forest was vast. But only after stepping inside did he truly understand how small beastmen were in comparison.

Trees 50 or 60 meters tall blocked the sunlight overhead. Even when light occasionally shone through, it was quickly dispersed by the faint mist above. So relying on the sun or moon to navigate was almost impossible.

Worse still, the tree species in the Mist Forest were all very similar. Every direction was filled with layer upon layer of thick trunks. At a glance, it felt like an endlessly looping mirror world.

Qi Bai blinked and tugged Lang Ze's arm. “I think I’ve already lost my sense of direction.”

They had only been in the forest for half a day, but he already couldn’t tell north from south.

Lang Ze took Qi Bai’s hand and frowned while examining a tree trunk.

Qi Bai leaned in and saw the markings they had made a few hours ago: “These trees are deceptive. If we follow them, we’ll definitely get lost.”

Looking at Qi Bai’s reddened nose, Lang Ze felt a bit distressed for his partner. “We’ve walked enough. Let’s rest here and think of another solution.”