After the Immortal Disappeared

"Spit it out!"

The gluttonous beast just stared at him, its jaws never stopping.

Just then, a Hornbill flew down and landed on the bull's horn, squawking twice. Only then did the Barbaric Bull reluctantly spit out a pile of half-chewed leaf pulp.

Elsewhere, the Parasol Tree finally stopped growing.

"As expected, the Parasol Tree can resist it for a longer period," Lingguang said, gathering a few leaves of each color and placing them together with a piece of bark.

"Resist it for a longer period?" Hee Lingchuan frowned. "What have you been experimenting on before?"

As he spoke, the giant Parasol Tree began to shake violently again.

This time, it was contracting.

It was as if an invisible pair of hands were pressing and twisting the entire tree, wringing it like a wet towel.

Amid sharp CRACKING sounds, branches snapped one after another, some even twisting into grotesque shapes.

The onlookers shivered. Though it was only a tree, they felt as if it were suffering immensely, its branches reaching out like hands in a desperate plea for help.

No one knew how to save it.

And so, the Parasol Tree soon stopped its self-mutilating convulsions, but its branches and leaves immediately began to wither.

Amid a shower of falling leaves, the tree was slowly reduced to a bare, skeletal frame.

Its bark turned from purple to gray. Dark brown powder fell in clumps from its cracked surface, and the surrounding soldiers started coughing, hastily backing away again.

The entire camp fell silent, everyone waiting to see what would happen next.

After a good while, the great tree showed no further signs of strange activity.

Only then did Lingguang step forward, collect some of the brown powder in a bottle, and declare, "It's dead."

"What happened?" Anyone with eyes could see the great tree was dead.

From sprouting to majestic, from majestic to grotesque, and finally to decay and death—the whole process had taken just over a quarter of an hour.

And anyone with eyes was now staring at Lingguang's every move.

"A Potion diluted a hundredfold can stimulate the growth of living things. But the direction of growth is uncontrollable, or rather, it deviates from the parent organism," Lingguang explained. "For example, this Parasol Tree mutated after being stimulated, becoming completely different from its natural form."

"This was actually a good result. Last time, I experimented on four rabbits. One grew three butts, another's skin grew inside-out, leaving it a bloody mess. One's teeth grew longer than its ears, and the last one exploded into a bloody mist the moment it took the medicine. Of course, they all died in the end, in less than fifty breaths from start to finish." Lingguang counted on his fingers like a human. "From this, it seems Phoenix Tree Seeds can contain a more potent life force, which is why they can withstand the Potion's effects for longer."

The audience was silent for a long moment before Hee Lingchuan finally said angrily, "So, you're the one who stole the four live rabbits I caught the day before yesterday?"

Zhao Pan stepped forward and kicked the dead tree. "This thing isn't going to cause any more trouble, is it?"

"No."

"Then what are you all still looking at? Get back to your posts!" Zhao Pan glared at the onlookers. The soldiers turned and reluctantly shuffled back to their positions.

Just then, the Xunzhou Camp on the opposite bank sent men rowing over to inquire about the commotion.

Zhao Pan gave them a few perfunctory answers and was about to send them back when he heard gasps from behind him, and someone shouted, "General, watch out!"

Startled, Zhao Pan heard a rush of wind behind him. With no time to think, he leaped to the side.

WHOOSH! A massive, dark object charged past, brushing right by him.

Before the envoy from the Xunzhou Camp could even see what was happening, he was sent flying into the air, leaving behind nothing but a bloodcurdling scream of "AH—!"

Watching this unfold, the same three words crossed the minds of both the Hee father and son:

'We're so screwed.'

The thing that charged was a Barbaric Bull.

The very same Barbaric Bull that had been chewing on the Parasol Tree leaves like betel nuts just moments ago.

Anyone with eyes could see that the Parasol Tree was not normal, yet this creature had still dared to take a bite.

When the Hornbill tried to stop it, although it had spat out the pulp, a small amount of the leaf juice had already trickled down its throat and into its stomach.

Everyone else had been focused on the great tree; no one expected the bull to suddenly go berserk now.

After goring the man, the Barbaric Bull, its eyes glowing red, began to rampage through the camp. The white steam snorting from its nostrils was clearly visible in the night.

Seeing this bulldozer of a monster charging at them, the soldiers in its path scrambled to get out of the way.

It smashed through three tents in a row. The canvas fell over its face, which, instead of calming it, only made it more furious because it couldn't see.

A torch fell, setting the tent on fire. This fire right on the bull's nose maxed out its frenzy meter.

The once orderly camp was thrown into utter chaos. The commanders shouted orders, but they were useless when every man was fearing for his own life.

'This is one of our own—no, one of our own bulls. Who would dare stab it with a blade?'

Fortunately, the long stretch of canvas acted like a foot-binding cloth, wrapping around half the bull's body and drastically slowing its advance. It even slipped and fell a few times after stepping on the fabric.

Zhao Pan, his face grim, turned and gave an order. Several soldiers grabbed mallets and began hammering at the camp's wooden stakes, managing to loosen a massive log three feet in diameter.

A disciple from Cloud-Piercing Pavilion appeared from nowhere, muttered an incantation to summon a Cyan Turban Warrior, and then whistled loudly at the Barbaric Bull.

This type of warrior was a Summoned Creature, divided into many grades. The Cyan Turban was the lowest grade, capable only of heavy, clumsy labor. The Talisman used to summon it was commonly known as a "Grass Head Talisman."

The whistle was exceptionally sharp. To the Barbaric Bull, it sounded like a provocation. Though it couldn't see, it rallied its strength and charged toward the sound.

Dust kicked up from under its hooves. Just as it was about to crash into them, the warrior swung the log in a wide arc, smashing it hard against the bull's head!

BANG! With a tremendous crash, wood splinters flew everywhere.

The warrior itself couldn't maintain its footing, staggering back over ten feet before—POP!—it reverted into a Strawman smaller than a man's palm and fell to the ground.

The Barbaric Bull had it worse. Its head was knocked sideways, throwing it off balance. It went into a ground slide and, like a bowling ball, crashed into the camp's main gate.

The gate collapsed with a thunderous roar, and the Barbaric Bull passed out, lying motionless.

Soldiers swarmed in from the side and bound its four hooves.

The bull had thrown the military camp into chaos, but that wasn't the biggest problem.

The envoy from Xunzhou it had sent flying had landed in the river with a SPLASH.

There was no way to hide this commotion from the opposite bank. A stir ran through the Xunzhou Military Camp. Their soldiers rushed to the riverbank and saw that the Yuan People had apparently thrown their envoy into the river. How could they stand for that? A clamor immediately arose.

Seeing the poor sod bobbing in the water—he was probably injured by the bull and couldn't swim to shore on his own—Zhao Pan quickly ordered men to rescue him.

Unfortunately, the commander in the Xunzhou Camp had the same idea. As Zhao Pan's men were rowing out, three of the Xunzhou People also jumped into the water, swimming to rescue their comrade.

It's unclear what the other side was thinking, but suddenly, two arrows came whistling over. One struck the bow of the boat, and the other pierced the boatman's arm.

Seeing him slump down from the arrow wound, the Yuan Camp erupted, with soldiers clamoring for battle.

The Xun People, for their part, saw flames soaring within the Yuan Camp as if something had happened. Then the camp gate crashed down, and a Barbaric Bull charged out, shook its head, took two steps, and collapsed.

'There's trouble on the other side. Should we take this chance to strike?'

This thought spun repeatedly in the minds of the Xun People.

Zhao Pan knew the other side must have witnessed the chaos in his camp. Sometimes victory and defeat hinged on such trivial factors, so he grew extremely tense and ordered his soldiers to prepare for battle.

The two camps, which had been coexisting peacefully, were now at each other's throats. There had been bloodshed, a trigger had been pulled—all that was missing was an all-out brawl.

Hee Chunhua looked at his son and the Monkey, his eyes blazing with fury. "Look what you've done!"

'Causing trouble on your very first night at the front lines!'

He did not want his eldest son to be the spark that ignited this battle. If they started assigning blame later, could his son bear the consequences?

Hee Lingchuan hung his head, grabbing Lingguang, who was trying to sneak away. "My fault, my fault! Who knew one drop of the Potion could be so powerful!"

"One drop?" Hee Chunhua's anger was momentarily interrupted. "It only took one drop to grow such a monstrous tree?"

"That's right!"

On the other side of things, the Yuan and Xun armies faced each other across the river. The atmosphere was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and the troops had fallen silent.

Zhao Pan was trying to salvage the situation. "What exactly happened just now?"

Hee Chunhua sighed, explained the cause of the incident, and then said, "This boy has caused a huge disaster. General Zhao, feel free to punish him as you see fit. Kill him or flay him, it's up to you!"

Zhao Pan glanced at Hee Lingchuan, his expression as dark as a stormy sea.

'The camp hasn't been short on provisions recently, all thanks to Hee Chunhua. Could I really flay the new Chief Steward's son?'

Just then, a Whistling Arrow shot out from the Xunzhou Camp, tracing an arc through the air before embedding itself in a post in the Yuan People's camp.

This kind of thing whistled as it flew, basically telling everyone "Clear the way, clear the way!" It was meant purely for sending messages and carried no malicious intent.

A Personal Guard brought over the note tied to the arrow's tail. Zhao Pan glanced at it and said, "Nian Zanli is asking me what's going on."

Nian Zanli!

Upon hearing this name, the hearts of the Hee father and son both skipped a beat.

'Is this great, unseen nemesis finally about to make his appearance?'

Hee Chunhua's eyes flickered. "Are you going to meet him?"

"Meet him? For what?" Zhao Pan sneered. "My boys were just messing around in the camp and accidentally knocked over the man sent from the other side. The man's not dead, so the matter's closed." With that, he had someone write a reply, tie it to the same Whistling Arrow, and shoot it back.

Apparently, the other side accepted his explanation, because the troops standing on the riverbank soon withdrew back into their camp, and the stockade gates were lowered.

The standoff ended as abruptly as it began. Everything seemed to have returned to how it was half a double-hour ago.

Clearly, neither side was ready for war.

Zhao Pan also ordered his men to return to the camp and remain on alert. He turned to Hee Lingchuan and said, "Young Master Hee, things have certainly gotten lively since your arrival!"

He was a blunt man; if he was unhappy about something, he'd say it.

Hee Chunhua quickly apologized.

Zhao Pan just vented a little; he wasn't going to actually do anything to the Chief Steward's son. Just then, there was another rustling in the bushes, and one by one, burly figures emerged.

The herd of Barbaric Bulls had arrived.

Seeing their companion tied up by all four hooves and thrown on the ground, a few of the Ox Demons were not pleased.

When they got angry, the entire herd grew restless. It felt as if the very ground was about to be trampled to ruin.

The nearby herd of horses grew panicked and skittish.

Zhao Pan feared that the camp, which had just quieted down, would erupt into chaos again. These bulls were extremely stubborn and not easily persuaded. One bull alone could stir up a storm; if all three hundred of them went on a rampage, the Yuan Camp would be destroyed without the other side even lifting a finger.

He practically snarled at Hee Lingchuan through clenched teeth, "Find a way to fix that bull, now!"

Hee Lingchuan turned and grabbed Lingguang. "Fix that bull!"