The Mists of the Great Marsh. Hues of poisonous miasma drifted slowly, like flowing, colorful silk, catching the sunlight to drape the Great Marsh in a vibrant veil—a scene of magnificent splendor.
The Great Marsh was a patchwork of swamps, pools, and small lakes, everywhere choked with lush, ancient trees. Where the toxic haze did not cling, the air was crisp and clean, and lithe, strange beasts grazed on spiritual grasses by the waterside, their eyes possessing a noticeable spark of sentience.
Beasts capable of surviving the poisonous miasma were either monstrously large with thick hides, or hideously shaped and inherently venomous. The Mists of the Great Marsh, perpetually desolate of human life, served as a forbidden zone for both the Southern Tribes and the Water Cloud Kingdom.
Not only common folk, but even Heavenly Masters who could command the power of heaven and earth faced peril with every step here. One misstep could mean being consumed by the toxic air or overwhelmed by a sudden, ghostly assault from vicious, feral beasts.
Before they could even gather a few spiritual herbs, their bodies would be torn asunder. In every past instance when an envoy from the Southern Tribes journeyed to Mount Tian to seek an audience with the Sect Master of the Qiankun Sect, Gu Dan, they traveled in large convoys, sticking to paths where the strange beasts seldom roamed, hurrying across the Great Marsh lest they disturb the massive swarms of ferocious creatures and invite endless trouble.
... Three days had passed since arriving at the Great Marsh.
Ji Changkong had been pacing the perimeter, meticulously avoiding the shifting clouds of poisonous miasma, while constantly guarding against beasts that might suddenly spring forth. He trod with meticulous caution, not daring to relax for a moment.
The lingering green miasma hovering above the essential path had become an impassable, deadly barrier. Over three days, the silently observant Ji Changkong witnessed countless small, agile, unknown creatures accidentally wander into areas blanketed by the toxic haze.
Before long, these rash trespassers would collapse, their bodies rapidly decaying until only bleached white bones remained. Those that moved with impunity within the haze were invariably ferocious creatures like the Saber-toothed Rhino or the One-horned Python—beasts so adapted to the poison that their strength was astounding, their hides like impenetrable armor against all venoms.
They were often short-tempered, and within the miasma, brutal, bloody skirmishes erupted frequently. In the distance.
Three Blood-Patterned Giant Crocodiles suddenly erupted from the swamp, their gleaming teeth, sharp with savage intent, sinking fiercely into a Saber-toothed Rhino that was lurking near the water's edge, dragging it swiftly down into the muck! Swamp water sprayed everywhere as the Saber-toothed Rhino struggled violently, locked in a frenzied battle with the three leviathans.
After a while, the submerged Rhino slowly sank, its scarlet blood mixing into the murky water. Only then did the sound of rending flesh and grinding joints echo horrifyingly from the swamp.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Ji Changkong immediately downed another large swig of Fire Dragon Brew. Feeling the fierce, boiling heat of the liquor surge through his system, he felt a momentary easing of his terror, losing some of his dread.
It was only now that Ji Changkong truly understood the words Luo Tian had spoken three days prior: Drink more wine; it builds courage! Ji Changkong could only offer a wry smile.
Without the Fire Dragon Brew bolstering him, witnessing those savage, bloody battles, he doubted he would have the nerve to take another step forward. Night quietly descended.
As the pure moonlight spilled over the Great Marsh, Ji Changkong, who had been anxiously waiting for three days, finally saw a once-in-a-lifetime chance! —The green poisonous miasma was slowly drifting, moving toward the north side of the Great Marsh.
This was the moment! Ji Changkong suddenly moved.
Clutching a jar of Fire Dragon Brew, he shot forward like lightning. Carefully skirting the swamps where the Blood-Patterned Crocodiles lurked, he charged recklessly, tearing straight into the deeper regions of the Great Marsh.
The shadows of immense trees whipped past him. He dared not dwell on the ferocious beasts that roamed here.
Driven by a kernel of borrowed courage, he constantly reminded himself that this desperate journey was for the scar on his aunt’s face, pushing himself onward through the night. Whoosh!
His rapid flight came to an abrupt halt. Ahead lay an area reeking of stench, where the viridescent eyes of a One-horned Python scanned the surroundings.
Before it, five Golden-Backed Centipedes, each larger than a man, were slowly closing in. The gold on their massive backs gleamed brilliantly, and their tiny eyes held a vicious glint; they had clearly marked the Python as prey.
A tremor ran through his heart. Ji Changkong cautiously shifted backward, fearing the slightest sound, and painstakingly retreated to the shelter of an ancient tree—one that remained impossibly leafy even in autumn—and scrambled upward with agility.
The bloody, brutal fight had already commenced by the time he reached a stable perch. Before he could fully steady himself, the vicious combat before him was over.
Blood flowed everywhere from the body of the One-horned Python, while the five Golden-Backed Centipedes feasted upon their quarry. In a short span, the Python’s flesh was entirely stripped away, leaving behind only a section of spinal column and its dusky green-patterned skin.
Sated and energized, the golden sheen on the Centipedes’ backs intensified slightly before they slowly lumbered away, fully satisfied. ...
After a long, long while, ensuring the Golden-Backed Centipedes were far gone, Ji Changkong first scrutinized his surroundings meticulously. Finding no more beasts within sight, he quietly descended from the tree and resumed his frantic dash.
After racing for a while, a pale purple haze materialized ahead, forcing Ji Changkong to halt once more. This time, he did not wait long; only a day and a half passed before the pale purple vapor drifted away under the brilliant, colorful sky.
Ji Changkong finally let out a breath he’d been holding, and charged once more toward the depths of the Great Marsh. ...And so, Ji Changkong navigated by dodging the ferocious beasts that feared none of the poison, waiting for the inevitable blocks of toxic haze to dissipate before moving onward.
He advanced, step by agonizing step, deeper into the Great Marsh. Time slipped by; a month had passed.
Sustained only by a few wild fruits along the way, and having survived a thousand near-death experiences, Ji Changkong finally sighted the Toxic Dragon Pool, shrouded in black miasma. The pool’s water was a murky brown, bubbling with a "gurgle," and when the bubbles burst, they released a faint, nauseating black smoke.
Gazing at the pool from afar, enveloped by the black haze, Ji Changkong felt tears welling up, though none fell. He suddenly realized that the toxic vapor above the pool clearly originated from the stagnant water itself.
The dark brown venom bubbling incessantly meant that the miasma overhead would never, ever dissipate. According to Luo Tian, the Thousand-Year Purple Gold Toad resided near the Toxic Dragon Pool.
With the perpetual shroud of black miasma, there was no way he could approach the water. How was he supposed to find the toad?
Ji Changkong’s face was etched with bitterness. He frowned, racking his brain for a method to reach the pool, but found absolutely no recourse.
He glanced at the small portion of Fire Dragon Brew he had managed to save. He had intended to use this final measure of alcohol to force his way into the pool, but now that hope was dashed.
With a sigh of resignation, he tore the oilcloth sealing the jar and, face full of sorrow, took several more swigs from the mouth of the vessel. The potent aroma of liquor quietly leaked from the opening of the Fire Dragon Brew jar.
Suddenly, from the dense thicket of ancient trees surrounding the normally quiet pool, a "shuffling" sound of movement arose. The water in the Toxic Dragon Pool churned with a loud "splash-splash," as if something foreign had just burst forth from within.
Having drunk deeply of the Fire Dragon Brew, feeling the intense flames burning fiercely in his body, Ji Changkong hesitated, unsure if he should stay and wait it out. Just then, alerted by the strange noises, Ji Changkong involuntarily turned his gaze back toward the Toxic Dragon Pool.
In that instant, the sorrowful expression on Ji Changkong’s face vanished, replaced by utter horror and surging panic. After a moment of stunned silence, he abruptly turned and fled for his life.
From the vicinity of the Toxic Dragon Pool, monstrously deformed beasts, each with eyes blazing with savage light, were charging directly toward him, as if they had discovered a magnificent feast! The Blood-Patterned Crocodiles, Saber-toothed Rhinos, and One-horned Pythons he had encountered before—having grown up near Azure Rock Mountain—Ji Changkong at least knew their names.
However, the creatures surging from the Toxic Dragon Pool were all bizarrely contorted: blood-red snakes that flew, monstrous nine-headed birds, and scorpions bearing green wings... Leading the charge was a toad the size of three men.
Its skin, wrinkled and mottled, shone purple-gold, and its gaping maw revealed rows of terrifyingly dense teeth. A faint black mist seeped from the depths of its throat, carrying a foul, bloody stench that traveled far.
The Thousand-Year Purple Gold Toad! Ji Changkong screamed internally, but dared not turn back to seize its spit.
He was utterly disheartened. Never mind the savage, bloodthirsty beasts trailing behind it; the sheer appearance of the Purple Gold Toad alone told him he stood no chance whatsoever.
Why is it so big?! Ji Changkong wailed inwardly.
He had always imagined the toad would be about the size of a washbasin, something manageable. But reality was eternally cruel, and faced with the actual creature, Ji Changkong sank into despair, for the first time harboring resentment toward Luo Tian.
In his eyes, Luo Tian had sent him here simply to die! ...
Ji Changkong had absolutely no chance to evade it; his speed was far inferior to the Thousand-Year Purple Gold Toad’s. After barely managing fifteen zhang of retreat, the toad had terrifyingly caught up and lunged with blinding speed, landing directly in front of him.
Before Ji Changkong could regain his footing, the toad’s bloody jaws snapped open wide and struck fiercely at his left leg. Crack!
Ji Changkong felt a searing, heart-piercing pain. His left leg instantly went numb, and blood immediately began to seep out.
"Bite, will you! Bite!" The instant the pain hit, all fear vanished.
Instead, he channeled his vital energy into his fists and hammered viciously into the Toad’s massive body. Once, twice...
The Toad did not cry out in agony and release him, but Ji Changkong could not withstand the potent venom in its teeth, and his consciousness began to fade. Just as his heavy eyelids started to close, a world-shattering roar erupted from the distant Toxic Dragon Pool.
Ji Changkong vaguely saw a huge, ferocious, terrifying beast leap skyward from the pool and charge toward him like a mad thing! All the bizarrely shaped beasts instantly froze where they were upon hearing the roar.
Those that could fly plummeted to the ground, and even the Thousand-Year Purple Gold Toad, tightly clamped onto his leg, instantly let go. A great gust of wind swept through as the monstrous, fearsome beast materialized instantly.
Its curved claws, sharp as honed greatswords, plunged violently into the Purple Gold Toad, piercing its body through and pinning it firmly to the earth. Only then did Ji Changkong finally lose consciousness, his heavy eyelids falling completely shut.
He never knew that at that moment, the bloody wound on his left leg, where the Toad had bitten him, was seeping blood that, beneath the scarlet, carried a distinct hint of purple. ...