“The intel says the target is in the western part of the Soul Hunting Forest, located on the shaded side beneath a cliff.” Russell traced his finger over the map.
“This wavy line indicates mountains, that long strip is a river, and this zigzagging line…
seems to be a path into the forest.” After memorizing the general route, Russell rolled up the map and tucked it into his chest.
He then took out an arrow, nocked it on his hunting bow, ready to draw and shoot at any moment.
“Whoo-whoo-whoo~” “Owoo!” The deeper he ventured into the forest, the more frequent the cries of Soul Beasts became.
Russell proceeded with extreme caution, fully aware that his trump cards were limited.
Whenever he sensed a Soul Beast nearby, he would rather take a longer detour than risk an encounter.
With the help of the “Beast Repellent Powder” made from the feces of a thousand-year Soul Beast, he safely reached the vicinity of the cliff.
However, upon seeing the massive chasm and the over-fifty-meter-high cliff before him, Russell’s expression turned troubled: “No wonder it hasn’t been found.
With terrain like this, Soul Masters who can’t fly would have a hard time exploring down there, and those who can fly wouldn’t choose a plant-type Soul Beast for their Soul Ring anyway.” The intel had withheld crucial information, something Russell had mentally prepared for.
What he had purchased was information about a plant-type Soul Beast called Dragonscale Bamboo.
The price was high, but considering it was a top-tier plant Soul Beast, it wasn’t unreasonably so.
Some omissions were to be expected.
The full name of Dragonscale Bamboo was Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo, named for its bamboo segments that resembled dragon scales and tortoise shells.
It was a top-tier defensive plant Soul Beast, possessing the tenacious vitality and resilient roots typical of bamboo-type plants, with a lifespan far exceeding that of ordinary bamboo Soul Beasts.
“After all, the Soul Hunting Forest is artificially cultivated for Soul Beasts.
Top-tier Soul Beasts are exceedingly rare, so it’s not like I have the luxury of being picky.
Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a defensive-type Soul Beast.
Its abundant Life Essence is precisely the best nourishment for the Blue Silver Grass Martial Soul.” Russell had long made up his mind and wasn’t swayed by the difficulties.
He strained his eyes to peer into the distance, faintly making out a tall, straight “tree” growing within the chasm.
From afar, he estimated it was at least as thick as an adult’s embrace.
“To grow so robustly in a light-deficient, damp chasm…
it must be the Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo.” Russell withdrew his gaze and leaned over to look down the cliff.
“The problem now is, how do I get down?” He hadn’t anticipated this situation, so naturally, he hadn’t brought any rope.
Even if he had, carrying a rope over such a long distance would have been difficult.
Russell pondered: “If I had absorbed my first Soul Ring, I could control the growth of Blue Silver Grass to use as a rope for climbing down.” Wait!
He looked at the thriving Blue Silver Grass around him.
Even on the dry, water-scarce surface of the mountaintop, sparse patches of Blue Silver Grass persisted.
“If I connect Blue Silver Grass strands together and combine them with some vines, then link them all, I might overcome the shortcomings of Blue Silver Grass being too short and vines being too brittle.
I could synthesize a proper rope.” With this idea in mind, he immediately descended the mountain.
The higher slopes were mostly coniferous forests with few accompanying vines, and the Blue Silver Grass was too sparse to conveniently collect for rope-making.
Three hours later, as dusk approached, Russell, now with a completed rope in hand, gazed at the pitch-black, mist-shrouded chasm and hesitated.
“The forest at night is far too dangerous.
Who knows what Soul Beasts or venomous insects lurk down there?
Visibility is also a major issue.
Better to wait until daytime to act.” “However, before that, let’s give the Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo a little surprise.” He drew his bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed in the direction of the Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo.
The hunting bow was crafted by combining two ordinary hunting bows, with a maximum draw weight of approximately eighty kilograms.
Only by unleashing his Soul Power could Russell fully draw it.
The three types of arrows were herbicide arrows, fire-oil arrows, and explosive arrows.
Each was synthesized from arrows and special materials.
The latter two were prone to causing fires, so he would not use them for now.
This time, his goal was to use the arrows to scatter herbicide, contaminating the soil and weakening the Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo.
As for whether it would kill the plant—that would be underestimating the vitality of a plant-type Soul Beast.
The arrows featured six grooves, which, together with the protrusions on the sides of the medicine bottles, formed a precise locking structure.
The medicine bottles were one millimeter longer than the arrowheads, ensuring they would easily burst open upon impact with the soil under kinetic energy, releasing the herbicide.
Russell assembled them one by one, nocked an arrow, and unleashed his tenth-level Soul Power, drawing the bowstring into a full moon.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
A series of seven or eight arrows, carrying nearly fifty bottles of herbicide across three major categories, landed near the Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo.
“What a pity I can’t hear the satisfying sound of the bottles shattering.
A year’s worth of effort—don’t let me down.” Since he couldn’t see the results, overthinking would only lead to unnecessary worry.
Thus, before nightfall, he set out to find a suitable campsite for the night.
After cultivating the Three Treasures Spirit Nourishing Art for a year, his physique was now nearly on par with that of a one-ring Soul Master.
Missing a night’s sleep wouldn’t be a problem.
So, when selecting a campsite, Russell prioritized locations with an open field of view.
After searching for half an hour, he found a large rock in a downwind area.
He cleared away the soil and debris beneath it, creating a narrow pit, and lined it with some Blue Silver Grass to ward off dampness.
He piled soil and rocks outside to block the entrance of the pit and sprinkled powdered dung from a thousand-year Soul Beast around it to deter other Soul Beasts.
After completing these tasks, he returned to the pit and sat down.
Russell did not light a fire.
Instead, he rested against the rock, cultivating his art to ward off sleepiness when tired, and when cultivation grew wearisome, he gazed up at the stars through the gaps between the soil and the pit.
At dawn the next day.
Russell’s clothes felt as if they had just been washed—damp, cold, and clinging uncomfortably.
He paid it no mind, retrieving the synthesized rope and tying it to a tree.
With the hunting bow, quiver, and burlap sack on his back, he began climbing down into the canyon.
“Daybreak is near.
Most Soul Beasts have finished hunting and returned to their nests to rest.
But it’s still best to move quietly.” Russell descended cautiously.
His light weight allowed the rope to hold without causing severe abrasion against the rocks, yet it still took him ten minutes to reach the bottom of the ravine.
He released the rope, gripped his hunting bow, nocked an arrow, and vigilantly surveyed his surroundings.
All was calm.
Russell moved with light steps, not daring to let his guard down for a moment.
Having stayed awake all night, he should have felt weary, but the stimulation from cultivation and the excitement of soon obtaining a Soul Ring easily kept his mind sharp and alert.
He remembered the location of the Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo and, within five minutes, spotted his target.
It was a straight bamboo plant, standing alone in the center of the canyon, about forty-five meters tall—only slightly shorter than the canyon itself.
Its leaves now appeared somewhat wilted, with sections near the roots turning yellow and pale, even showing fine cracks.
“The herbicide is taking effect.” Russell was well aware of the herbicide’s potency.
For this, many trees at the academy had served as test subjects, leading teachers to mistakenly believe they were suffering from pests or diseases.
“There are no other plants around the Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo.
It grows slowly, yet this single plant monopolizes the nutrients in the soil within a ten-meter radius.
It seems my preparations were not in vain.” Russell took the quiver from his back and nocked an arrow.
Fire-oil arrow!
Whoosh—!
From eighty meters away, the arrow traced a slight arc and struck the curved joint of the Dragonscale Tortoise-back Bamboo.
Despite the force of a hundred and sixty jin behind it, the arrow did not pierce the bamboo joint.
Instead, it glanced off the surface, leaving only a shallow mark—like a scar left by a knife grazing the skin.