It’s the next day. Dejiu squatted low, hidden by the wide cover of a tree adapted to survive the Seventh Hell’s floor.

  He frowned. Would it be a daimonic tree or a hell tree? Argh, what are you thinking!?

  He shook his head. For what felt like the hundredth time, he hid. He was south of the Pillarshard, further away than he dared before. Well, it was still about seventy steps from the Pillarshard, but those seventy steps felt hard-earned. Especially with how quiet he tried to be. He’s on the prowl this time after decimating the population of daimons yesterday. Well, enough that he can extend a little further before something too powerful or too many comes close and he’s forced to hide inside again.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? It won’t be long before something too strong comes wandering closer around. You might be routed if you stay this far out.” Bing Xin warned him. “Bravery and idiocy share a border.”

  “Shut it. I decided I’m gonna kill this wretched daimon.” He snapped.

  “We’ll see.” Bing Xin laughed from within.

  “How much time do I have left to practice and train?” He shifted topics.

  “Let’s see, seven and a half days. But you mustn’t push yourself that much beforehand. Make sure to leave enough time to recover before you face the guardian.”

  Dejiu scowled and gripped his spade harder.

  [Prana Core: High Initiate]

  [Prana: 55/55]

  Earlier this morning, well not really morning because it was always scorchingly orange-red, he killed a few daimons south of the Pillarshard — the area with molten rivers. Or was it called a marsh? Anyways, the daimons he found looked like the fish he saw in books. Weird creatures without legs. Weird, because why wouldn’t you have legs? But weird didn’t stop him from harvesting their Hell Shards and practicing his Withering Palm. He killed one after it launched from the molten rock and he quickly dashed aside to dodge the splashed molten rock and the massive jaws. Once it landed on flat ground… it was disappointing. Really! So Dejiu stabbed it.

  Then another pounced from the molten rock.

  He killed it.

  Then another sprung on him!

  And then he killed it. He finished it with a palm.

  Three daimons came and died. That’s all there was to it.

  But then this menace suddenly emerged from the same deep waters of molten rock as these fish daimons. Dejiu tried to kill it like the others, but this one seemed to be a predator among predators. It had legs! So it thrashed about with its massive body and Dejiu couldn’t handle its might. The menace snagged his three kills and burned him in the process. His tattered robes were one thing, but his three Hell Shards! His fucking Hell Shards! Damned the thing!

  This led him to now. Hiding behind a tree close enough to the molten river a few hours later after he recovered enough. He already has bait lined against the riverbank. A succulent fish-daimon carcass. Dejiu made sure to cut it open so the ichor could spill out and its entrails were revealed.

  “Hehehe.” He grinned madly.

  His spade is going to gut that four-legged fish. He’s sure of it. Hopefully hit it with a series of Withering Palms too because the technique hasn’t even reached Ordinary attainment yet. Perhaps this menace could push him and the technique to the next level.

  “Should’ve listened better yesterday. You wasted time roaming about when I told you there was nothing to find. You could’ve killed this daimon if you slept and recovered earlier. I know what's best for you.” She chided him.

  “Fine, fine. I get it.” He muttered as this morning’s fruitless hunt replayed in his head. She’s probably even more disappointed because she was obsessed with Hell Shards.

  “I’ll kill it soon—”

  Dejiu didn’t finish his sentence because he’d heard the bubbly flow of molten rock change. He shook his head and focused. The menace was approaching. Sucker smelled a free meal. Not this time!

  When he peeked around the tree he saw two visceral eyes poking through the flowing surface. A predator’s glint unmistakable. Come on you overgrown beast. Take it like the others.

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  Dejiu eyed his bait. A carcass the size of himself perfectly placed not too far from the molten marsh, but enough space to fight before it could run back into its territory.

  His heart pounded, but his breath steadied. Endless fighting down here alone, well partially alone, had made him sharper.

  The molten surface parted, and the creature emerged. The daimon’s flesh was strange—layered in overlapping plates, each one hard and glinting like shards of polished stone, as if the beast had been forged rather than born. A hulking form of warped muscle dripped with liquid fire, steam rising where its molten flesh met the air.

  “They are called scales, you mountain ape.”

  It took a cautious step forward, the molten ground solidifying beneath its four clawed feet. The beast was massive, its head alone as big as Dejiu’s torso. It’s hard to believe such a daimon was of the Impure Stage. Every step was just like before but it was slower than Dejiu had expected. Is it cautious?

  “Good,” he whispered under his breath. “You should be scared.”

  He summoned his bracers and crouched lower. His legs coiled, ready to launch. As the beast sniffed the air, inching closer to the carcass, Dejiu's plan unfolded in his mind — he’ll strike hard and fast before it could retreat. The molten marsh was its domain, but the open ashy ground was his.

  The creature paused, lowering its head to inspect the bait. That was his moment.

  Dejiu darted from his cover, his footfalls light and deliberate. Wilted Stem. The burst of strength flooded his limbs as he closed the gap in an instant. With a sharp cry, he swung his spade downward at the exposed nape of the beast’s neck.

  The spade end struck true, sinking deep into its flesh. The creature bellowed a deafening roar of pain and fury that violently shook and splattered the molten rock in every direction. Dejiu gritted his teeth and lifted his loose robes and bracers to cover most of the splash. But he could only cover so much as he groaned. Specks burned through his robe.

  He shifted his focus to his spade because something odd was happening. The blade quietly hissed in the creature’s blood. Fuck, even it’s blood is this hot!?

  It was fascinating in a morbid way. But he couldn’t think about it now as he lowered his arm and delivered a Withering Palm. A flash of dense prana flowed into his palm before he launched it.

  FSH!

  A quick sear sounded. It hurt. But it was helpful. The foolish idea of using a barehanded technique on such a hot creature wasn’t his plan — it was Bing Xin’s. She said it’ll teach him the importance of maneuvering in and out quickly. To deliver his strikes and prana in violent spurts. It’ll also help with his evasive footwork because he’s horrid to say the least.

  The beast twisted, its massive tail swiped in a blind arc. Dejiu jumped back just in time, the ground where he had stood moments before exploding into shards of rock and dirt.

  “It’s tougher than the others,” Dejiue muttered.

  The daimon’s voice in his head chimed in with its usual condescension. “You might want to rethink the bravado. This one’s not like the fodder you’ve been hunting.”

  Dejiu ignored it, his focus narrowing on the creature’s movements. It was hurt but far from defeated. He needed to exploit its rage and drive it further from the molten marsh—away from its escape route. The beast lunged, its molten claws carving furrows in the ground as it charged. It leaked immense amounts of ichor yet its vigor didn’t wane.

  Dejiu dodged to the side, his feet skimming over the uneven ashy terrain. The creature skidded past him, disoriented for a moment. That was all he needed.

  With a grunt, he surged forward, slamming a Withering Palm on its side. Then another. And another. Quick ins and outs. The molten blood burned his hand but he didn’t let go. Instead, shimmied to the front and grabbed his spade’s shaft. He dragged the spade end out as the fish-like daimon let out a death throe.

  It thrashed. Dejiu noticed it’s weakened state.

  He took advantage of it and rushed forward to not waste his Wilted Stem’s use. Dejiu brought the spade overhead and swung it down. He cleaved at its head again with a visceral and sloppy slam. His spade was lodged into its skull yet it somehow wildly thrashed again. Dejiu held on, riding the chaos until the creature collapsed onto its side with a final, guttural growl.

  [You have slain an Impure Daimon: Embergrove’s Stalker]

  The molten marsh hissed and bubbled behind Dejiu, the sound of the daimon’s defeat replaced with the seething landscape. So it’s called the Embergrove? And I’m only at its edge. Will there be stronger daimons somewhere deeper there? Is it the same in the other directions? He sighed and dislodged his spade.

  “Ouch.” He yelped. With the heat of battle gone, the quiet burning pain in his hands intensified.

  “Enough. Take it’s Hell Shard, it’s near the peak of the Impure Stage so it’s good.” Bing Xin said.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He muttered.

  [You have acquired a Hell Shard (Impure)]

  [You have acquired a Hell Shard (Impure)]

  He didn’t forget the Hell Shard from his bait.

  Looking back to his base per se, the Pillarshard stood unfathomably tall like a grotesque beacon. Being this far out here, he realized that the ring around a hundred steps out made the immediate area look like a scar carved from the Seventh Hell. It's like the original terrains in each four directions tried to claim it back from the Pillarshard. It made him wonder how it formed in the first place to leave such a desolate mark.

  “Curiosity won’t save you against the guardian later,” She snarked, dragging him back to the present. “Your Withering Palm still needs work. Cultivation too. Get back inside the Pillarshard and train.”

  He grabbed his spade and grumbled, “Can’t be a little nicer? I thought I did good here.”

  “Want me to praise you?”

  Dejiu cleared his throat awkwardly. “Nope, I’ll get back inside then.”