Leaving the familiar outer perimeter of the Back Mountains felt like stepping off a cliff into an unknown abyss. The trees grew denser, ancient trunks thick as pillars, their gnarled branches interlocking high above, choking the sunlight. The air grew still, heavy with the scent of decay and damp earth.
Mo Liangye moved with the silence of a predator, his senses straining against the oppressive quiet. He saw tracks that made his breath catch – prints far too large for a Three-Eyed Wolf, deep gouges in tree bark suggesting immense power. He skirted these signs carefully, melting into deeper shadows, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his dagger.
The temperature began to plummet steadily. His breath started to mist in the air, even though the sun should have been higher now. The vibrant greens of the outer forest gave way to muted greys and blues. Strange, frost-covered ferns replaced the usual undergrowth. He was getting closer.
He consulted the tattered map fragment in his mind, comparing the terrain features – a twisted ancient pine here, a series of jagged ravines there – to the faded ink lines. It was crude, unreliable, but it was all he had besides his own increasingly sharp instincts.
Then, he saw it. A narrow fissure snaking between two towering cliffs of sheer grey rock, barely wide enough for two men to walk abreast. From within, a thick, unnatural white mist churned and flowed outwards, carrying a palpable chill that bit deep into his bones through his thin robes. No sound emerged from the fissure, only an unnerving, profound silence.
This had to be the entrance to Cold Mist Valley.
Mo Liangye paused, observing. The mist swirled hypnotically, obscuring everything beyond the first few feet. The cold here was different – sharp, piercing, carrying an almost hostile quality. He circulated his Qi using the 'Flowing Cloud' technique, feeling it sluggish, slightly suppressed by the intense yin energy pervading the area. Yet, deep within his Dantian, the God Seed seemed to thrum faintly, an almost imperceptible resonance with the extreme cold.
There was no turning back. The mission, the potential reward, the desperate need for resources – they all lay beyond this veil of mist. He tightened his grip on his dagger, took a steadying breath that burned his lungs, and stepped into the cold embrace of the valley.
Visibility dropped to almost zero instantly. The thick, damp mist clung to him, chilling him to the core, muffling all sound. It felt like walking underwater, disorienting and claustrophobic. He could barely see his own feet. He pressed one hand against the cold, damp rock face of the cliff to his right, using it as a guide, moving slowly, cautiously.
Every shadow seemed to writhe with unseen threats. Every drip of condensation echoing in the silence sounded like footsteps. The psychological pressure was immense, a constant assault on his nerves. He forced himself to remain calm, his mind sharp, analyzing every subtle shift in the air, every faint scent the mist carried.
He'd been walking for what felt like an hour, deeper into the oppressive silence, when a faint skittering sound reached his ears, seeming to come from directly ahead, low to the ground.
Mo Liangye froze mid-step, every muscle tensing. He strained his eyes, peering into the swirling white soup. Nothing. The skittering stopped.
Then, a shape lunged from the mist – pale, fast, low to the ground. Not a spider, something else. Wolf-like, but gaunt, its fur coated in frost, eyes burning with a cold, predatory light. A Frost Ghoul Hound, perhaps? He didn't have time to identify it.
Instinct took over. Mo Liangye threw himself backwards and sideways, rolling desperately across the uneven, icy ground. Claws scrabbled where he'd been a moment before. He scrambled behind a jagged outcrop of rock as the creature shot past, a low growl echoing eerily in the mist.
He pressed himself flat against the rock, dagger held ready, heart pounding against his ribs. He saw the creature's silhouette pause a dozen feet away, head turning, sniffing the air, its frosty breath pluming. It seemed uncertain, perhaps having lost its target in the fog. After a tense moment, it let out a frustrated snarl and melted back into the white obscurity.
Mo Liangye waited, motionless, until long after the sounds of its movement faded. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead despite the freezing air. That was close. Too close. This valley was even more dangerous than the records suggested. He couldn't afford another encounter like that in his current state.
He pushed himself up, forcing his breathing to even out, and continued onward, now with even greater caution, moving slower, scanning every shadow, testing every footstep before committing his weight.
He started noticing the signs he was looking for. Thick strands of what looked like silk, but coated in shimmering frost, stretched between rocks. Small, frozen husks of cave insects or bats lay scattered on the ground beneath them. And then, the faint, sharp, acrid scent cutting through the damp cold – the smell of spider venom.
He followed the signs meticulously, like a hunter tracking perilous game. The trail led him towards a darker cleft in the valley wall, where the mist seemed slightly thinner but the air felt colder still.
From a distance, hidden behind a cluster of ice-encrusted boulders, he saw the lair. A vast, intricate network of crystalline webs spanned the entrance to a deep cave system, glistening unnervingly. Pale, bluish-white shapes, larger than his fist, moved with unsettling speed and silence across the webs or clung motionless within icy crevices. Venomous Frost Spiders. Tier 2 Peak.
His eyes scanned the lair rapidly. He counted at least fifteen spiders easily visible. Some were huge, likely the matriarchs or strongest guards. Others were smaller, perhaps younger ones. They moved with a chilling efficiency. He needed to isolate one, far from the main nest.
He circled around, finding a position downwind. He took out the preserved piece of Shadow Cat meat – his only bait. He threw it with practiced aim towards an open patch of ground about thirty meters from the nearest edge of the web network. Then he flattened himself behind another rock formation, dagger ready, rope trap loosely prepared nearby.
The wait was agonizing. The cold seeped deeper into his bones. Finally, one ofrala the spiders closer to the edge, slightly smaller than the largest ones but still formidable, detached itself from the web. It scuttled rapidly towards the bait, its eight spindly legs moving over the icy ground with uncanny speed, its multiple black eyes swiveling, alert.
As the spider reached the bait and lowered its fangs, Mo Liangye exploded into action. He didn't charge the spider directly but sprinted towards a cluster of loose icicles hanging precariously from an overhang above and to the side of the spider. With a desperate leap and a well-aimed kick, he dislodged them.
CRASH!
The large icicles shattered on the rocks near the spider, creating a sudden, loud noise and a shower of ice shards. Startled and momentarily disoriented, the Frost Spider reared back, its attention diverted for a crucial second.
Mo Liangye seized the opening. He closed the distance in a blur, his dagger flashing. He didn't aim for the hard carapace but for the joint where one of the thin legs met the body.
Shink!
The blade bit deep, severing the leg cleanly. The spider shrieked, a high-pitched, grating sound that echoed horribly in the valley. It spun around, ignoring the bait, its remaining seven legs carrying it towards Mo Liangye with terrifying speed, fangs dripping venomous saliva.
Mo Liangye dodged the inevitable spray of icy venom, feeling the air freeze where it passed. He engaged the enraged spider, his movements economical, forced purely onto the defensive. The creature was incredibly fast, its attacks relentless. Its carapace deflected his probing strikes. He focused on evasion, using the jagged rocks for cover, trying to lead it further from the lair.
He took a glancing blow from a leg across his thigh, the impact numbingly cold, tearing his trousers and leaving an angry red welt that quickly turned pale. He gritted his teeth against the pain, rolling away, and saw another opening as the spider overextended. He lunged, dagger aimed at another leg joint. Severed.
Now limping noticeably, the spider became even more frantic, spraying venom wildly. Mo Liangye dodged again and again, his Qi draining rapidly. He felt the subtle resilience from the God Seed helping him resist the numbing cold radiating from the spider and his own minor injury, but it wasn't enough to turn the tide easily.
He needed to end this. Seeing the spider momentarily pause to reorient itself, he risked everything. He charged towards the venomous fangs, sliding low at the last second, and thrust his dagger upwards with all his remaining strength into the softer underside of the spider's cephalothorax.
The blade sank deep. The spider convulsed violently, its legs flailing, then collapsed into a heap, twitching feebly. Mo Liangye didn't wait. He drove the dagger into its head, silencing it permanently.
Panting heavily, thigh throbbing, Qi almost gone, he immediately set to work. Following the instructions on the parchment, he carefully located and extracted the bluish-white venom sac, placing it securely in the special leather pouch. One down. Two to go.
The second kill was harder. He had to wait longer for another spider to investigate the lingering scent of blood near the first kill. This one seemed warier. The fight was another desperate dance of evasion and calculated strikes. He sustained another graze, this time on his already injured arm, before finally bringing it down and securing the second venom sac.
His vision was starting to blur from exhaustion and pain. His Qi was critically low. Every instinct screamed at him to flee, to take his gains and run. But the mission required three sacs. The reward... the spirit stones... he needed them.
He forced himself to focus, using the last dregs of his willpower. He managed to lure a third spider, perhaps drawn by the commotion of the second kill. This fight was pure, ragged survival. He abandoned finesse, relying on desperate lunges, using his body to block minor hits, feeling the God Seed's resilience working overtime just to keep him functional. He almost succumbed to a venom spit that grazed his chest, the icy burn stealing his breath. But somehow, fueled by sheer, bloody-minded determination, he killed the third spider.
He collapsed beside the carcass, gasping, every muscle screaming, his vision swimming. He fumbled with the extraction, his fingers numb and clumsy, but finally secured the third venom sac. Mission accomplished. The thought brought little comfort, only profound exhaustion.
But then, a flicker of memory. The Frozen Moon Dew. Here, in the coldest part of the valley, near the spider's lair... was it possible?
Ignoring the screaming protests of his body, Mo Liangye pushed himself up, leaning heavily on a rock. His eyes scanned the icy crevices around the third spider's kill site. The air here felt unnaturally cold, pure.
And then he saw it. Tucked away in a narrow fissure, almost hidden behind a curtain of icicles, was a faint, ethereal blue glow.
Hope, fierce and unexpected, surged through him. He stumbled closer, using his dagger to chip away the ice carefully. There, nestled on a bed of frost-covered moss unlike any he'd seen before, lay three perfect, solidified droplets. Each was no larger than his little fingernail, shaped like a tiny crescent moon, glowing with a soft, internal blue light and radiating an aura of pure, condensed yin energy that soothed his ragged senses just by being near it.
Frozen Moon Dew. He had actually found it.
With trembling fingers, he carefully scooped the three precious droplets into the small, empty jade bottle he carried for exactly such a possibility. The moment the bottle was sealed, the glow vanished, leaving only the cold, hard reality of his situation.
He had the venom. He had the dew. He had succeeded beyond his wildest hopes. But now, injured, exhausted, deep within the treacherous Cold Mist Valley, he faced the daunting task of getting out alive. He secured his loot, took one last look at the dangerous, misty expanse, and began the slow, agonizing journey back towards the distant, dubious safety of the sect.