Chapter Seventy-Seven: Poor Wretch

Within this secret realm, daylight blazed forth, and there were both day and night; yet it was impossible to say whether this followed the rising and setting of the sun in the outside world, or if some mysterious force native to the realm itself governed the passage of time. For the past few days, most of Luo Tian’s hours had been spent hunting magical beasts, and thus he had already accumulated a deep reservoir of the realm’s power. Coupled with the portion arduously delivered by Wei Zhongyuan and his four companions, Luo Tian’s ability to recover was such that he felt confident he could rival any formidable beast of his rank.

Of course, this was not without cost. With only brief periods of rest each day, the exhaustion—both physical and spiritual—was quite pronounced. Fortunately, as cultivators advanced in strength, their constitution improved as well; otherwise, after these days of relentless exertion, he would have surely collapsed. Yet the string of battles and his travels across plains and forest had sharpened Luo Tian’s vigilance substantially, making him far more alert than he had been back in the Divine Sun Forest.

As he pressed deeper into the forest, guided by the instincts of his body, this heightened awareness proved invaluable. However, what struck Luo Tian as odd was the unusual stillness along his path: not a single magical beast emerged to attack him. The rare tranquility left him somewhat uneasy, even a little out of place.

Rather than relax his guard, Luo Tian grew ever more attentive to the sights and sounds around him, and his curiosity toward the destination he pursued grew boundless. There was, of course, a measure of trepidation as well; the unknown always inspires fear.

Deep within the forest, the thick canopy blocked most of the light, casting everything into shadow. In the silence, not even the faintest whisper of wind was heard; there were no sounds of swaying grass, singing birds, chirping insects, or rustling leaves. The only thing echoing in Luo Tian’s ears was his own breath and the thudding of his feet as he ran.

What manner of place was this?

A vague unease stirred within him, and the sensation of being drawn onward intensified with every step he took deeper into the forest. It was as primal as a starving man glimpsing a feast, or a lecher encountering a peerless beauty—an irresistible urge born of instinct.

Shafts of light pierced through the dense leaves, forming scattered columns. In the dim glow, Luo Tian perceived changes in the terrain ahead. Meanwhile, the impulse within his body grew so strong that it seemed, with every beat of his heart, about to burst forth.

Of course, it was a mere illusion, but its very unreality made Luo Tian all the more cautious.

Ahead, amidst the once-lush forest, an abrupt clearing appeared—so conspicuous that it resembled a white spot on black paper, impossible to overlook.

At the very center of this clearing stood a massive wooden stake, more than two meters in diameter, broad enough for three or four grown men to encircle with their arms. Yet these strange sights failed to hold Luo Tian’s attention; his gaze, from the very first moment, was drawn to what lay atop the stake.

There was a person.

Luo Tian’s breath involuntarily grew heavier. Was it this person who had drawn him here?

His face showed signs of struggle. He clenched his teeth, striving to control his trembling body, but to no avail; at this point, his very flesh was compelled to move forward, inch by inch.

It was truly exasperating—there was nothing he could do. Luo Tian simply ceased resisting. He was determined to see just what manner of thing this was.

The wooden stake was not tall, barely over a meter, allowing Luo Tian a clear view of the figure perched atop it.

At first glance, Luo Tian was startled.

What a face! The skin clung tightly to the bones, as if there was no flesh between them, revealing the structure of the skull with uncanny clarity. Veins twisted beneath the pale skin like the gnarled roots of an ancient tree, writhing and sprawling.

Most unsettling of all, the skin was as white as snow, so ghastly that a mere glimpse sent chills through Luo Tian’s heart.

It was not a skeleton, but somehow more terrifying than one.

From the features, it could be discerned—albeit barely—that this was a man, one whose appearance was at least decent.

Not as handsome as me, Luo Tian thought wryly—after all, I am Senior Luo.

In such a sinister environment, to encounter such a sight sent shivers down his spine. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with wild thoughts, which at least distracted him from fear.

Thankfully, aside from the head, neck, and hands, the rest of the man’s body was clothed in exquisite golden robes. Otherwise, if he had been greeted by the sight of a nearly naked man with skin stretched over bone and veins crawling like earthworms and dragons, his very liver might have quaked with terror.

At that moment, Luo Tian caught a glimpse of something unusual behind the stake.

There were four people lying on the ground.

It was no wonder Luo Tian had only just noticed them; the figure atop the stake exerted a strange, compelling force that had held his gaze captive.

Was it this fellow who had drawn him here?

Luo Tian blinked, and suddenly a realization flashed through his mind. It seemed these four unfortunates had been lured here much as he had, their power within the secret realm reaching a certain threshold and compelling them onward.

He hurried over and recognized one of them as Liu Longfei. The remaining three were disciples of the Great Origin Sect. Considering the reason for their arrival, these four must be among the outstanding disciples who had entered the secret realm this time.

Now, Luo Tian thought, he should be counted among them as well, and he took no modesty in it—for in terms of fighting strength, he felt no inferior to any.

But was this creature atop the stake alive or dead? And what purpose had it in attracting the five of them?

Looking at the four lying on the ground, uncertain whether dead or alive, Luo Tian felt a shadow cross his heart. Though they still breathed and their pulses could be detected, both were weak; their faces were unnaturally pale, resembling vegetative states—alive, yet as good as dead.

Was the thing on the stake dead or alive?

A sudden thought flashed through Luo Tian’s mind. He sprang to his feet, turned to look at the stake, and found that the figure who had been lying still was now sitting upright, grinning at him with a hideous smile.

A chill swept over Luo Tian. Black vital energy surged from his body, his muscles tensed, and his heart thudded wildly. Even if this creature was dead, it might have become some kind of zombie.

Or worse—perhaps it was still alive!

The monstrous figure’s hollow, soulless eyes stared unblinkingly at Luo Tian, and from its mouth issued a few indistinct sounds: “Who would have thought there would be another wretch like me, occupying another’s flesh?”