Chapter 2 — The Spirit Beast I Adopted Is the Baby Demon Lord

The wound was not particularly large, yet it was disturbingly deep. The edges were tinged with a strange, dark purple hue, and the surrounding flesh was swollen and inflamed. I frowned, studying the injury. This did not look like the result of a typical wild beast’s claws or fangs; instead, it resembled the corrosive touch of some malignant, frigid spiritual energy. The thought flickered through my mind before vanishing, eclipsed by the necessity of action. I carefully washed the wound with clean water, rinsing away the blood and discharge. The creature remained unnaturally rigid, not letting out a single sound, its endurance truly astonishing. After binding it with a clean strip of cloth, I threw a curt remark over my shoulder:

"Stay here."

I grabbed my empty storage pouch and headed out to seek my fortune. The sect’s Task Hall was perpetually teeming with people. Any low-level, safe, or reasonably rewarded tasks were snatched up the moment they were posted. What remained were either menial, back-breaking labors like harvesting herbs or weeding, or death-defying ventures like hunting feral beasts in treacherous zones. After jostling through the crowd for half a day, I managed to secure a three-day assignment guarding a low-grade herb garden for a pittance of ten low-grade spirit stones. The work was mind-numbing; it consisted merely of shooing away pests or clearing weeds from the irrigation ditches. Three days later, with an aching back and weary joints, I finally held the ten small, lukewarm stones in my palm and returned to my dwelling.

Ink Jade was still curled up in the corner. Hearing my movement, it lifted its head, its gaze locking onto my hands with predatory precision. Resigned to my fate, I pulled out all ten stones and placed them in the wooden basin it had used for water the day before.

"There, your three-day ration."

It sauntered over, lowered its head, and began to crunch. *Crunch, crunch.* The ten low-grade spirit stones vanished with startling speed. My heart bled. Was this keeping a spirit pet? This was clearly maintaining a spirit-stone crushing machine! At this rate, I would wither away from exhaustion before I could afford to keep it fed. Once finished, Ink Jade licked its paws and fixed those bottomless black eyes on me once more. The message was unmistakable: Not enough.

"That's all of it! It’s really all gone!" I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Ten spirit stones! I spent three days in the fields for that! You polished them off in a few bites? Are you some kind of gluttonous monster reincarnated?"

A low, guttural growl vibrated in its throat, heavy with profound disdain. It then turned its back to me, presenting nothing but a cold, round posterior and a twitching, dusty gray tail. I was so furious my vision blurred. What kind of creature had I picked up? This was not a pet; it was an ancestor, a debt collector! I realized I had to take on higher-paying work, or both the “Ancestor Ink Jade” and I would starve to death.

Back at the Task Hall, a fresh piece of parchment had been pinned to the board, drawing a crowd. [Emergency Mission: Clear out the swarming spirit-rats on the outskirts of Black Wind Valley. The population is skyrocketing, mostly low-level, with occasional mutations. Reward: One low-grade spirit stone per rat, five for a mutated specimen. Deadline: Three days. Risk Warning: These creatures are pack-oriented and vicious.]

The crowd murmured with concern. "Black Wind Valley? That place is thick with resentment and miasma; it’s a nightmare." "Low-level rats are easy, but the sheer numbers are exhausting—a thousand bites can kill an elephant." "Mutated rats are fast, and their claws are poisonous." "One stone each? Stingy. But if you kill enough, it beats gardening."

I gritted my teeth, pushed to the front, and ripped the notice down. Risk was inherent, but the pay was volume-based! As long as I was careful and quick, I could kill dozens—maybe even a hundred—and the spirit stones would be mine. To fill that bottomless pit of a machine, I had to gamble. My preparations were meager: a sect-issued iron sword, a few packets of cheap anti-miasma powder, and some low-quality spirit-recovery pills. This was my entire worldly wealth. Before leaving, I glanced at Ink Jade, who was pretending to sleep.

"Stay home and don't wander off. I’m… going to fetch your rations." My tone carried a touch of tragic resolve. The creature didn't even twitch an eyelid.

Black Wind Valley lived up to its name. A dark, grayish wind swirled around the entrance year-round, carrying the stench of rank earth and rotting vegetation. The light inside was dim, the jagged rocks and twisted trees reaching out like claws. I hadn't stepped far into the valley when a chorus of teeth-grinding squeaks erupted from a pile of rubble ahead. Instantly, dozens of tiny, blood-red eyes ignited in the shadows. They were here! I gripped my sword and held my breath. A tide of over a dozen gray-furred rats, each half a meter long, surged forward with jagged teeth and razor-sharp claws.

"Die!" I shouted, channeling my meager spiritual energy into the iron blade. The steel glowed with a faint white light. I dodged a lunging attacker and swung the sword in a desperate arc. *Thwack!* Foul-smelling blood sprayed as a head went flying. But more came. They swarmed from all sides. I parried and slashed, the clang of metal against teeth ringing incessantly. Stinging pain flared on my arms and back as my clothes were shredded. This was too many! If I kept this up, I would run out of energy and be either bitten to death or collapse from exhaustion.

I retreated, pressing my back against a large boulder to narrow their path. I pushed the last of the energy in my dantian to the limit. My blade flashed, aiming for the vulnerable eyes and throats. Suddenly, a particularly cunning rat vaulted from my blind spot, aiming straight for my jugular! It was too fast! I couldn't swing my sword in time! In that final heartbeat, just as those putrid fangs were inches from my skin— *Whoosh!* A sound so slight it was nearly imperceptible hissed through the air.