"Don't move, brother!" The burly man waved his hands frantically.
"I didn't mean to intrude," he said breathlessly. "My brothers and I were resting in the outer zone when an old man suddenly appeared. Without a word, he struck one of us dead. I ran for my life—had nowhere else to go—so I ended up here in the mixed zone."
Lin Xiao said nothing, only studied the man before him. The stranger hadn't released his martial spirit, and his soul power fluctuations were faint—hard to read.
Still, Lin Xiao's left arm shifted slightly behind his back. The concealed soul cannon was already raised, quietly primed.
Before he could act, the sound of branches rustling came again. Another figure burst from the shadows and fell face-first into the dirt with a heavy thud.
The newcomer didn't even cry out before scrambling up to run again—until he spotted the first man nearby.
"Big Brother?"
"Old Third? You're here too?"
"I don't know what's going on!" the newcomer gasped. "That old man chased me here!"
"Where is he now?" The first man's face twisted in fear. Forgetting Lin Xiao entirely, he turned back toward the darkness behind them.
"I—I don't know."
The burly man's expression shifted suddenly. He turned toward Lin Xiao, bowing low. "Young master—no, senior! You must be a powerful cultivator to be here at this hour. Please—help my brothers and me!"
"Yes, senior," the "Old Third" quickly added, catching on. "You don't understand—this old man killed one of our brothers without a word! Someone so cruel must be an Evil Spirit Master. The wicked deserve to be slain! Please, lend us your strength!"
Lin Xiao's face turned odd as he looked between them. He could already guess who their so-called "old man" was.
Sure enough, moments later, a faint rustle swept through the forest again, followed by two shadows emerging one after another. Nightmare Douluo appeared silently behind the men.
"Ah—!" Old Third cried out in horror. "Senior, help me—!"
But before he could finish, Lin Xiao bent slightly at the waist. "Teacher."
The man's voice froze in his throat. He stared from Lin Xiao to Nightmare Douluo, his mouth hanging open, unable to form words.
"Enough," Nightmare Douluo said softly. "That fool spoke out of turn. I merely gave him a small lesson."
The group instantly fell silent.
Lin Xiao glanced at the teacher beside him. Judging from their faces, that "small lesson" had likely been far more brutal than Nightmare Douluo implied.
"I came here to catch a few spirit beasts to raise," the Titled Douluo continued calmly. "You'll stay with us for now. Help tend to the beasts, and once the work's done, you may leave."
The burly man recovered quickly. His eyes darted about, and in an instant his tone turned servile. "Yes, yes, senior! Whatever you say."
"Good." Nightmare Douluo nodded slightly, then turned to Lin Xiao. "Watch them."
"Teacher, who are these people?"
"Just some beast hunters," Nightmare Douluo said casually. "No idea why they're still in the forest after dark. They can take care of the spirit beasts for us—they seem used to it."
Beast hunters?
Lin Xiao's eyes lingered on the man.
In this world, many Spirit Masters relied on spirit beasts for advancement, yet not all were strong enough to hunt them. Attack and agility types could fight their own prey, but support or food-type Spirit Masters often hired others to help.
Those who specialized in hunting beasts for others were known as soul-beast hunters—a unique profession that earned its living helping clients obtain spirit rings.
But among this group, who was the one needing a ring?
When a Spirit Master hit a bottleneck, their soul power gave off a distinctive aura of stagnation—smooth yet unmoving—visible even without releasing their martial spirit. Yet none of these men carried that resonance. And their familiarity with each other was clear; they weren't strangers gathered for a commission.
And then there was that smell clinging to the burly man's clothes—thick, metallic, like blood long soaked into fabric.
"Brother, a misunderstanding—a misunderstanding!"
Seeing Lin Xiao's wary look, the man hurried forward with an obsequious smile. "I spoke rashly earlier, that's all. Please don't take offense."
He slapped the shoulder of his companion. "Old Third!"
"Yes—yes, it was my mouth that got us in trouble," Old Third stammered, nodding quickly.
Lin Xiao cast one more glance toward Nightmare Douluo and said nothing. He returned to his place and sat down.
The group let out a quiet sigh of relief. The four huddled together, whispering nervously, occasionally glancing up at the cloaked figure standing nearby.
"Teacher…" Lin Xiao murmured under his breath.
"It's fine," Nightmare Douluo said indifferently. "Just a pack of insects. They won't leave this forest alive."
Their every twitch, every hidden glance, was well within the range of his spiritual perception. Lin Xiao sighed inwardly, then closed his eyes and began to meditate again.
Boom—
Dawn broke with a thunderous crash. A colossal beast fell to the ground unconscious, shaking the forest. Under Nightmare Douluo's hand, even ten-thousand-year spirit beasts had no chance to resist.
The hunters rushed forward before he could speak, expertly binding the beast with practiced coordination. They truly did have experience handling spirit beasts. Within moments, they had secured it and loaded it for transport.
As Nightmare Douluo continued his hunt, their awe deepened. They didn't know his exact rank, but his overwhelming power was obvious. Their attitudes grew even more submissive.
With them handling the grunt work, Lin Xiao's task became far easier.
Just as they prepared to move deeper, Nightmare Douluo suddenly halted.
"Almost missed a fine catch," he said with a strange glint in his eye, turning toward a nearby tree.
Lin Xiao followed his gaze. At first glance, nothing seemed unusual—just another towering tree among thousands. But when his teacher spoke, he looked closer and felt it too: the faint pulse of life.
"Teacher," he asked, "plant-type spirit beasts can't be taken away, can they?"
"Of course not. But I never said we'd be taking it," Nightmare Douluo replied, slowly turning toward him. "What do you think—would this make a good sixth spirit ring for you?"
Lin Xiao froze, then looked carefully at the "tree."
Its bark was dark gray, unremarkable among the forest's giants. The trunk was wide enough that three men together might barely encircle it. Yet as a breeze stirred its leaves, a strange sound followed—soft, almost whispering—and for the first time, Lin Xiao felt something deeply wrong beneath its calm surface.
(End of Chapter)