18: Establishing authority at the camp

Morning dew condensed into beads on the blades of grass as Lin Yang picked up the last bag of supplies with his left arm, which had just healed from a broken bone.

The blood that the Three-Tailed Blood Wolf had turned into last night had already seeped into the soil, leaving only a dark brown stain on the ground. However, the chaos star core within his body operated with increasing density and stillness because it had devoured the demonic power of a Gang Qi Realm creature. The wound on his left arm had long since scabbed over, gleaming with a faint bronze hue—the mark of being tempered by True Qi.

He followed the messy footprints on the ground, his boot soles crushing the dew-covered moss and making soft sounds.

The demonic power of the Three-Tailed Blood Wolf had not only healed his injuries but had also caused his five-element dantian cores to expand by a circle, especially the metal-element True Qi, which was so sharp it felt like it was about to pierce through his skin.

Passing through a dense patch of ferns, the area ahead suddenly opened up. Hundreds of tents were scattered orderly throughout the valley, with cooking smoke rising in wisps, mingling with the aroma of roasted meat and a faint medicinal scent.

The wooden sign for the Azure Dragon Camp stood at the entrance. The characters, dampened by the morning mist, were somewhat blurred, yet they still exuded majesty.

As soon as Lin Yang stepped into the camp, he was stopped by four Disciples dressed in the attire of the White Cloud Sect. The leader, Luo Gang, was tall and sturdy, with a token engraved with the characters "Inner Sect" hanging from his waist. His triangular eyes scanned Lin Yang's blood-stained clothes up and down, his mouth curling into a sneer.

"Newcomer? Do you understand the camp rules?" Luo Gang lifted his foot and stepped onto a blue stone, deliberately thrusting his hips high, and pointed his riding whip at his feet. "If you want to enter the camp, crawl past here first."

A burst of laughter immediately erupted around them, and several Disciples from other Sects also gathered around; this was clearly a common trick used by White Cloud Sect Disciples to humiliate newcomers. Lin Dongliu happened to be leading his people out of a tent, and upon seeing this, he immediately stopped in his tracks, a gleam of schadenfreude flashing in his eyes.

Lin Yang's gaze fell on the boot that Luo Gang was using to step on the blue stone, and his fingertips felt slightly itchy. After devouring the demonic power of the Three-Tailed Blood Wolf last night, his temper seemed to have become a bit fiercer. "Is this the only upbringing a White Cloud Sect Disciple has?"

"You're courting death!" Stung in a sore spot, Luo Gang swung his riding whip and lashed out. The tip of the whip carried a pale green True Qi, clearly indicating the cultivation level of the Seventh Level of the Acquired Realm.

Lin Yang did not dodge or avoid it; he didn't even look at the whip tip, simply throwing a backhand punch. The metal-element True Qi condensed into a sharp, inch-long gleam on his fist, arriving after the whip but striking first, landing squarely on Luo Gang's ribs.

"Bang!" Luo Gang flew backward like a broken sack, crashing into the camp's wooden fence, curling into a ball in pain, unable to get up for a long time.

Lin Yang shook his fist. He had only used thirty percent of his strength in that punch, but it was enough to make his opponent suffer greatly. "I hate it when others point fingers at me, and I hate it even more when others tell me to crawl."

The laughter of the entire crowd came to an abrupt halt, and everyone was stunned. This ragged boy dared to hit an Inner Sect Disciple of the White Cloud Sect? And looking at it, Luo Gang hadn't even lasted a single move under him!

The smile on Lin Dongliu's face froze, and he subconsciously took half a step back. He really couldn't understand how Lin Yang, who had been targeted by the Three-Tailed Blood Wolf, not only hadn't died but had actually become stronger.

"You dare to strike me?" Luo Gang struggled to get up, clutching his ribs and roaring, "Do you know who my Master is? The camp's Elder Zhao..."

"If you keep making noise, I'll break your legs." Lin Yang glanced at him indifferently. That gaze was as cold as the accumulated snow on the peak of Qingmeng Mountain, causing the rest of Luo Gang's words to get stuck in his throat, unable to be spoken.

Just then, a series of coughs came from nearby. A short, thin old man dressed in grey robes walked over slowly, the copper bell at his waist swaying gently with his steps; it was the camp's administrator, Elder Zhao. His aura of the Tenth Level of the Innate Realm was like an invisible mountain, pressing down so heavily that the surrounding Disciples held their breath.

Elder Zhao's gaze rested on Lin Yang for a moment before glaring fiercely at Luo Gang: "Camp rules prohibit private fighting. Luo Gang, for provoking trouble, you are punished to chop wood in the back mountain for one month and transcribe the Sect rules one hundred times!"

Luo Gang opened his mouth to argue, but under Elder Zhao's glare, he shrank his neck and shut his mouth resentfully.

"You are Lin Yang?" Elder Zhao turned to Lin Yang, his tone softening slightly. "This first offense is noted for now; if you offend again, you will be punished for both." Although he favored his own Sect's Disciples, he could see that Lin Yang was not someone to be trifled with, and there was no need to make an enemy for the sake of a troublemaker like Luo Gang.

"Thank you for your fairness, Elder." Lin Yang nodded slightly and turned to walk straight toward the area marked with the characters "Lin Family".

Lin Dongliu and the others watched him approach as if they had seen a ghost, their eyes complex like an overturned palette—filled with resentment, wariness, and a trace of undisguised fear.

"You... how are you not dead?" Lin Dongliu couldn't help but ask, his voice trembling slightly. He really couldn't understand how this boy could still be alive and return after being targeted by a Vicious Beast of the Xiantian Realm and abandoned by everyone.

Lin Yang couldn't be bothered to pay attention to him, his gaze sweeping over the bulletin board in the center of the camp. Dozens of mission papers were pinned to the wooden board, with ink-stained handwriting detailing various trial missions—collecting Spirit Medicine, hunting Vicious Beasts, drawing maps—which could be exchanged for corresponding points upon completion, and points could be exchanged for Medicinal Pills or Incomplete Manuals of Cultivation Techniques.

His gaze finally landed on a yellowed piece of paper: "Kill Green Elk, each can be exchanged for ten points, demon core counted separately." The Green Elk was at most the Seventh Level of the Acquired Realm; although fast, its defense was weak. Most importantly, the wood-element energy contained in its demon core was mild and easily devoured by the chaos star core.

"I'll choose this one." Lin Yang tore off the mission paper, the rough texture of the paper pressing against his fingertips. He could feel the wood-element dantian core within his Dantian trembling slightly, clearly extremely thirsty for it.

Lin Dongliu looked at the mission paper in his hand, a trace of disdain flashing in his eyes—only trash like him would care about low-level missions like killing Green Elk. He did not see, however, the meaningful arc that curled at the corner of Lin Yang's mouth as he turned away.

To others, the Green Elk was just a tool to exchange for points, but to Lin Yang, who possessed the chaos star core, this was clearly cultivation resources delivered to his doorstep.

The morning sun outside the camp rose higher and higher, its golden rays passing through the gaps in the tents and shining on Lin Yang's upright back. A new hunt was about to begin.