Boom! Boom! The thunder roared incessantly, deafening the entire treacherous mountain range.
From time to time, a piercing sound echoed across the night sky, followed by a streak of light tearing through it.
The surrounding landscape momentarily lit up, revealing a group of people toiling, drenched in the rain, searching everywhere. Each person held a lantern, and despite the torrential rain stinging their eyes or the dim light in their hands having been extinguished by the downpour, they continued their search.
At this moment, a man dressed as a retainer ran closer, his face somewhat weary, and cupped his fist to report. Perhaps because of the heavy rain, his voice was very loud: "Patriarch, we've searched everywhere at the foot of the mountain, but there's still no sign of the Young Master. It's possible the Young Master has already left this place."
The old man fell silent upon hearing this. As lightning flashed, it revealed his worry and helplessness. His face seemed to age several years in an instant, his grizzled hair now soaking wet, tangled with dust and leaves, a stark contrast to his usual dignified demeanor.
The old man looked at the mountain path, now a small stream due to the pouring rain. His eyes revealed an intense inner struggle. The "Young Master" the retainer spoke of was his only son, who had now run away from home – how could he not be worried? However, ahead lay a region teeming with spirit beasts, and he couldn't risk sending his retainers to investigate. But even so, he couldn't ignore the safety of his own flesh and blood.
Finally, the old man nodded slightly and said, "You all continue searching nearby."
The retainer bowed his head upon receiving the order and continued searching the surroundings with the others.
Once he had left, the old man fixed his gaze on the path ahead. He stomped his feet firmly, and a burst of light erupted from his body, instantly expanding his aura.
His subordinates also noticed the strange phenomenon and looked on in alarm. They watched as the old man transformed into a streak of flowing light, shooting straight up the mountain peak.
"Boom! Boom!" Just then, the sky suddenly lit up, revealing a layer of dark clouds coalescing into a massive vortex in the heavens. The incessant roar of thunder and lightning shook the heavens, causing everyone's expressions to change.
At the same time, as the old man was rapidly rushing to find his son, he suddenly noticed a sound approaching him, growing louder and closer. Although it was the middle of the night, the light from the lightning overhead allowed him to see extremely clearly. "What is happening?" The old man's expression changed as he asked himself.
Before the old man was a large herd of spirit beasts, stampeding in a panic. No matter how ferocious the species, they were all overcome by fear. Even a Lâm Thố (forest hare) ran right past a wolf beside it, yet the wolf paid it no mind, its four legs pounding as it rushed past its usual prey.
Knowing something ominous was afoot, the old man had no choice but to turn back and retreat. He knew that with such an army of spirit beasts before him, even if they didn't actively attack, just one stomp from each beast would be enough to trample him to death. Although worried for his child, he first had to ensure his own survival before he could do anything else.
Thinking this, the old man, even before he had reached his destination, raised his voice and shouted with all his might: "Quickly retreat to Mo Fu! Anyone who can't keep up, immediately climb a tree to avoid the beast tide!"
Meanwhile, halfway up the mountain, a youth of about fifteen lay struggling beside a large rock outcrop.
His clothes were almost completely in tatters, and though the rain washed over the numerous bloodstains, they continued to seep. The youth's slender figure trembled, his face alternating between pale and ashen, whether from excessive blood loss or from fright, he didn't know.
His chest heaved continuously as he instinctively reached out and pushed the heavy object off his chest.
It was a large, blood-stained log, with several deep bite marks on its surface. Looking up at the lightning bolt that had just struck, the youth brushed away the rainwater still soaking his face. The pain coursing through his entire body made him feel that he was still alive. Recalling the scene that had just occurred, he trembled even more, letting the pouring rain conceal his tears.
However, from his bloodshot eyes, one could still tell that he was truly heartbroken.
“Heaven truly is blind! Why are others born normal, yet I was born with such frail bones and sinews?” The youth, filled with sorrow and indignation, cried out in a hoarse voice. But immediately after, knowing he was still in danger, he endured the pain and tried to find a temporary shelter.
His name was Mo Tiansheng. Because he was born prematurely, his body was extremely weak from birth. His mother also passed away because of this.
Although he was a young master of the Mo family, he was not from the main lineage. From a young age, he was looked down upon, if not outright bullied, by the other children in the clan. Even their retinues occasionally revealed disdain, despite trying to hide it discreetly.
Mo Tiansheng remembered all of this clearly. As he grew up, he watched his peers cultivate, gradually becoming cultivators with superior strength, and he felt both admiration and sadness. However, even so, he could accept it.
Parents give birth to children, but heaven bestows their destiny. Mo Tiansheng knew it would be difficult for him to cultivate, so he dedicated himself to helping his father manage the family's assets. The Mo family patriarch also had some connections, so he made some inquiries. His son's meridians were not beyond improvement, but the cost was exorbitant, far more than a mere merchant like him could afford.
Apart from cultivating to become a powerful cultivator, some others chose to follow the path of alchemy. There's a saying: "A cultivator isn't necessarily an alchemist, but an alchemist is definitely a cultivator." This is why the status of alchemists in this "strength reigns supreme" world was extremely high. Furthermore, some individuals with profound mastery in the Dao of alchemy held significant influence; a single word from them could mobilize a large number of powerful experts for assistance.
Moreover, for Mo Tiansheng to be able to cultivate, the pills he needed had to be at least of the tenth rank. One must know that the Dao of alchemy is divided into twelve ranks, which shows just how valuable a tenth-rank pill is. Not to mention, in a lower realm like the Zhou Tian Continent, who would even be capable of refining tenth-rank pills?
Because Mo Tiansheng could not cultivate, he had read many books since childhood, especially on the Dao of medicine and the Dao of alchemy. Although he had never practiced, he had almost memorized the contents, only hoping that one day he would encounter a fortuitous opportunity, be taken in by a powerful expert as a medicine boy, and thus have a chance to transform himself.
But alas, life was not a dream. Just a few days after he turned fifteen, the daughter of the Mu family, along with an elder from a major sect in the lower realm, came to demand the annulment of their previous engagement, causing Mo Tiansheng's father to lose immense face in front of many people.
Even though the matter had been resolved satisfactorily, the two words "good-for-nothing" spoken by Young Miss Mu had momentarily driven him to despair, prompting him to abandon his home, only to nearly lose his life during a stormy night.