The Land of Eternal Night

"It's sharp enough!" Qin Ming rose from the whetstone, holding his machete. The once rust-covered blade was now polished smooth as a mirror, gleaming like a calm autumn lake.

"People like Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng deserve to die, but if there are any good men among them who end up as collateral damage, that would be a pity." He needed to find out for sure.

That evening, Old Liu was drinking with Xu Yueping. Each had only a single cup, and they sipped it sparingly, tasting the alcohol. That was all they had left—Xu Yueping's jar of strong, aged wine was nearly empty.

"A muntjac for a human life. They've lost all humanity!" Old Liu cursed as he drank. The frustration weighed heavily on his heart, yet he couldn't tell the truth to the Qian family.

Xu Yueping, meanwhile, was most concerned about Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng. If they succeeded in achieving secondary rebirth, things would only get worse.

"Is there not a single good person in the patrol team?" Qin Ming asked as he entered.

Old Liu sighed. "If most of the pears in a basket rot and no one does anything, the rest won't last long either. Patrol teams can have up to twelve members, but this one only has nine. The outcasts—those who don't fit in—were either pushed out or met with accidents in the mountains."

"Is there no one to restrain or confront them?" Qin Ming asked casually.

Xu Yueping shook the wine jar vigorously to pour Qin Ming a small sip and motioned for him to sit down.

Old Liu thought for a moment and said, "Some patrol teams don't get along with them. Either they can't stand their behavior or they've fought over spiritual plants and resources in the mountains. There have been bloody clashes before."

Xu Yueping added, "And then there's Qingsang Village. They weren't forced to plant the Black Moon seeds because of a relative of Er Bingzi. That person must have real skill."

Turning to Qin Ming, Xu Yueping said, "You've built a solid golden foundation. You need a plan. When spring arrives, go out and see the world. Don't let yourself get trapped here."

He knew the character of men like Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng too well. He feared that Qin Ming would be harmed by these wolves in human clothing.

Qin Ming considered this. "A plan? I've always wanted to know where I fled from during the famine years."

"Ah, you don't mention it often, and I've almost forgotten. We've always seen you as one of our own," Xu Yueping said, not knowing how to comfort him. He changed the topic instead.

He spoke of Chixia City's grandeur—its endless prosperity and remarkable people. Perhaps there, Qin Ming could learn advanced meditation techniques or martial arts.

Old Liu chimed in, "I agree. Young men should be sharp and ambitious. If you wait until my age, when even your legs are too weak to move, all you'll have left is regret."

Xu Yueping smiled. "Liu, I heard you were quite ambitious in your youth."

Old Liu chuckled, unfazed by the mention of his past. "Who wasn't young once?"

"What were your ambitions?" Qin Ming asked with interest.

Old Liu reminisced, "When I was young and brash, I dreamed of rising to greatness—taming one of the legendary beasts in the mountains and marrying the most beautiful girl in the area."

"And what happened?" Qin Ming pressed.

"One time, while assisting the patrol team, we accidentally encountered that legendary beast. It merely passed through, but it nearly wiped us all out. I was gravely injured, and the chance for secondary rebirth slipped away forever. My dreams shattered, and that girl married one of my rivals."

Qin Ming raised his cup to toast him. "That's tragic."

Old Liu laughed. "But I wasn't completely defeated. Out of spite, I married my rival's older sister. Now he has to call me brother-in-law for the rest of his life."

"You're the real winner!" Qin Ming grinned.

The three of them only had half a cup of wine each, but they drank late into the night.

When Qin Ming returned home, he carefully wiped down his iron bow, its surface carved with patterns of strange beasts. Unfortunately, it was no longer a hard bow for him—his strength risked snapping it.

"It'll do for now."

He filled a quiver with iron-tipped arrows, wrapped himself in furs, and packed spare clothing in his bundle.

"Tomorrow is mid-month," he muttered, gazing at the deep night sky.

That night, he fell asleep early, ensuring he was in peak condition.

In the latter half of the night, Qin Ming awoke. He'd slept long enough. Though it was still far from dawn, he silently pushed open the courtyard gate.

The night was still and quiet, steeped in a chilling darkness. For an ordinary person, nothing would be visible.

But with his enhanced senses after rebirth, Qin Ming could see the faint outlines of the world around him. The darkness didn't hinder his progress.

Avoiding the Fire Spring, he chose the most secluded path through the snow-covered village.

Snowflakes continued to fall, growing heavier with each passing day.

His black hair, draped over his shoulders, fluttered in the cold wind. His tall, strong frame was neither thin nor frail. Every step he took was resolute as he walked into the mountains.

The faces of the injured villagers appeared one by one in his mind, along with the image of Feng Yian handing a muntjac to the Qian family during Uncle Qian's funeral. That scene replayed endlessly in his thoughts.

He had reached his limit. Tonight, he would deal with the patrol team.

Qin Ming entered the mountains calmly and steadily, his heart untroubled. There was no tension or unease, as though he were simply walking home.

The forest was alive with cries of beasts, shadowy forms flitting through the air. In the abyssal darkness, pairs of malicious eyes glimmered—some blood-red, some ghostly green, others icy silver. They all stared at him. He could even hear the breathing of strange beasts and the whoosh of wings cutting through the air nearby.

The mountains at night were extraordinarily dangerous.

Suddenly, Qin Ming sped up. His body, honed beyond the limits of a golden foundation, surged forward. He charged at a large beast, his machete flashing like a streak of lightning. With a sharp whoosh, a massive head flew into the air, blood spraying like a fountain. The six-hundred-pound body collapsed with a thud.

Instantly, the surroundings fell silent. The red and green eyes watching him vanished into the darkness.

Qin Ming continued on his way, unwavering in his direction as he headed for the patrol team's base.

Moments later, the decapitated beast's body was torn apart by other carnivores. Growls and snarls echoed as they fought over the remains.

Nearing his destination, Qin Ming stood on a neighboring peak, observing the patrol team's base. A faint red glow emanated from the Fire Spring. He could see figures moving around.

It was still early, but the patrol team was already active. A tall, curly-haired man nearly two meters in height was feeding bloody meat to the massive golden mastiff.

"Fu Entao!" Qin Ming recognized him instantly. He had heard descriptions of the patrol team leader's curly black hair. The strongest of them all was already here.

He also spotted four others, including Feng Yian and Shao Chengfeng, emerging from the wooden huts.

"They arrived early," Qin Ming murmured, realizing they must have reached the base the previous day.

Instead of rushing in, he descended the mountain and took position on the only path leading to the base. Four members were still unaccounted for, and he intended to deal with them first.

Snow fell thickly, whitening his black hair. Qin Ming stood motionless, blending into the scenery. As the night gave way to shallow dawn, the fog began to lift, and the darkness lightened.

His vision sharpened. Soon, a man appeared, draped in animal furs, walking from the outer mountains toward the base.

Qin Ming recognized him. This man had been with Feng Yian when Xu Yueping was humiliated in Yinteng Town.

Like a statue carved from ice, Qin Ming moved suddenly, exploding forward with a burst of speed. In an instant, he collided with the man, a dull thud echoing through the trees.

Bones shattered on impact. The man's eyes bulged, his body wracked with agony. He tried to scream, but Qin Ming's hand clamped around his throat.

With a crack, Qin Ming snapped the man's neck. He had gripped too tightly—after crushing the vertebrae, the head hung limp, connected by only a thin layer of skin. Even in death, the man's face was frozen in terror.

Qin Ming dragged the body into the forest, noting the smell of alcohol and perfume. No wonder he was slow to react, Qin Ming thought. He was hungover and unprepared. His death was well-deserved.

After searching the body for valuables, Qin Ming discarded it. He exhaled deeply, his emotions turbulent. This was his first kill.

Though he had prepared himself mentally, there was still a sense of unease.

But he adjusted quickly. Years of hunting and fighting dangerous creatures had given him a strong mental fortitude.

"To plant the Black Moon, you've killed villagers without hesitation. You're worse than the beasts of these mountains. Killing you all today is justice served!" Qin Ming declared silently.

He calmed himself. In his heart, these patrolmen were no different from the wild beasts or monsters of the mountains.

Soon, a second man approached, his large frame outlined against the snowy dawn. Qin Ming, still covered in snow, unsheathed his machete.

When the man came close, a flash of cold steel erupted from the darkness. Qin Ming exploded forward, his speed like a lightning strike.

The patrolman's instincts were sharper. Sensing the deadly threat, he dodged sideways and dropped to the ground in an attempt to evade the attack.

But Qin Ming was faster. Anticipating the move, he adjusted his swing. The machete cut cleanly through the air.

Whoosh! The man's head flew from his shoulders, blood spraying across the snow. His body, still in a forward motion, crashed into the snowbank.

Qin Ming withdrew his blade calmly. This time, there was no hesitation.

The heavy snow fell like a blanket, carried by strong winds. Qin Ming looked up and muttered, "Good snow."

The wind and snow would erase his tracks.

Standing still as a statue, Qin Ming awaited the third and fourth patrolmen. Both fell swiftly to his blade, their lives snuffed out in the dim forest.

By now, Qin Ming's emotions were steady. He could smile warmly at the villagers while wielding a blade to cut down these villains.

His steps were firm as he marched toward the patrol team's base, alone and resolute.