The massive grey wolf frightened off the other one. To secure its prey, it accelerated, charging toward Leo.

  "Ahh!"

  Leo screamed, shrugging off his carrying basket and hurling his hatchet at the wolf. Seizing the moment the wolf dodged, he turned and fled with all his might through the snow. The wolf merely sidestepped slightly before quickly resuming its pursuit, rapidly closing the distance between man and beast.

  Fleeing to a small slope, Leo lost his footing, tumbled down the incline, and rolled helplessly. The pursuing wolf pounced with a low growl.

  Paralyzed with fear, Leo almost couldn't bear to watch the terrifying scene.

  "ROAR!"

  A much more powerful roar almost deafened Leo, leaving him dizzy. In his disbelief, a colossal black bear, nearly ten feet tall, came thundering forward. The cold ground trembled under the weight of this creature, which exceeded two thousand pounds. The bear moved with an agility and speed that defied its enormous bulk.

  The once-ferocious grey wolf let out a pitiful whine, utterly powerless as the giant bear swatted it away with a single paw. The hundred-plus-pound wolf slammed into a tree trunk over twenty feet away with a sickening thud. The tree, as thick as a man's waist, shook violently from the impact. The wolf fell to the ground like a lifeless sack and moved no more.

  The other wolf had long since fled in terror, vanishing without a trace.

  In his shock, Leo even forgot the pain from his fall. He stared as the enormous, furry bear face loomed closer. The bear's heavy, foul-smelling breath washed over his face. He was too terrified to move a muscle.

  At that precise moment, a clear, short flute note sounded. The massive black bear gave a soft grunt, withdrew its face, and abandoned Leo. It turned and trotted obediently toward the source of the flute sound.

  Immediately after, Leo saw a figure draped in a long black robe, revealing only a pale, gaunt face etched with deep wrinkles, appear abruptly in the snowy clearing. The figure's wide sleeve swept through the air, sending a gust of wind straight at Leo. Before Leo could react, he was plunged into unconsciousness.

  The black-robed elder, with movements that seemed almost effortless, traversed several yards in a few steps and stood over Leo. He produced a colorless, transparent crystal disk. Taking Leo's hand, he placed it on the disk. The crystal disk immediately lit up, displaying five colors—crimson, blue, green, gold, and yellow—spinning and intertwining chaotically. They kept changing, never settling on a single hue.

  "It appears he does possess spiritual roots, otherwise he wouldn't have activated the Spirit Detection Disk. But this chaotic fluctuation… what kind of spiritual roots are these? No matter. Finding someone with spiritual roots in this mundane place, Asgard, is exceedingly difficult. I currently lack suitable assistants. This one will have to suffice for now."

  The black-robed elder's expression shifted uncertainly. In all his years wandering the world of immortal cultivation, this was the first time he'd encountered a Spirit Detection Disk unable to clearly determine someone's spiritual roots. After a brief pause, he muttered an obscure incantation. The black bear growled lowly, bent down, and gently picked up Leo in its jaws. It then strode forward, following the black-robed elder who glided ahead with light steps, effortlessly staying in front of the running bear. The forest landscape blurred past them.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Several hours later, deep within the untamed mountains hundreds of miles from the Thunder Blade Sect, a canyon lay shrouded in white mist. The roar of tigers and the calls of apes echoed from within.

  Near the canyon entrance, three shadowy figures were faintly visible.

  "Those damned hair-brains from the Palace of the Heavenly Apex are chasing us relentlessly. We fled all the way to Asgard before finally shaking them off. If those mad dogs keep biting at our heels, we might truly have nowhere left to hide."

  A burly, bearded man spoke with a deep, resonant voice. Despite the harsh winter, he wore no shirt, exposing his bronze skin and solid muscles. A large, ancient-looking bronze axe hung at his waist.

  "The Palace of the Heavenly Apex’s influence is too vast. It's all the Blood Dwarf's fault. If he hadn't been so sloppy, how could the Palace disciples have found clues? We've lived like stray dogs for years now. Our spirit stones are nearly depleted. Are we supposed to eat common grains like mortals after this?" This came from a voluptuous woman in a green skirt, a slender scar marring her otherwise attractive face. Her tone was full of blame.

  "How can you blame me? The Palace of the Heavenly Apex cultivators are truly formidable. Besides, if you two hadn't harbored thoughts of murder and treasure-seizing, would we be in this mess?" retorted the Blood Dwarf. He was a man dressed in red robes, his body no larger than an eight- or nine-year-old child's, yet he was a grown man past forty with a wisp of black beard on his chin. He gave a cold laugh. "Furthermore, if not for the Palace disciples pressing us, we wouldn't have stumbled upon this mysterious canyon in such a remote place. The spiritual energy here is so rich; it must be a treasured land."

  "Whether it's a treasured land or a death trap remains to be seen. This canyon is quite peculiar," the bearded man said cautiously. "The white mist within never disperses, and there seems to be a restriction inside that blocks spiritual sense. For us cultivators to enter would be no different from ordinary mortals. If we encounter demonic beasts inside, the danger would be extraordinary."

  The green-skirted woman grew impatient. "Our spirit stones and pills are almost gone. If we can't replenish our spiritual resources, what do we do next? No matter how dangerous it is inside, we must explore it. It might very well be a treasure trove. That old eccentric Ragnar has been gone for days. If he doesn't return soon, I'll have to go in myself."

  "In that case, you are welcome to explore it on your own," a hoarse, deep voice suddenly interjected. This was followed by the heavy, thudding footsteps of a massive black bear.

  The green-skirted woman's expression changed instantly. She forced a long, coquettish laugh. "Oh, Elder Ragnar, don't take my words so seriously. I was merely jesting. This canyon is indeed strange. Your cultivation is the most profound among the four of us, and you excel in the art of alchemy. Without you, none of us would dare venture into this bizarre canyon."

  "Elder Ragnar, you've finally returned! You kept us waiting anxiously," the bearded man boomed with a hearty, though somewhat forced, laugh. He then noticed the burden. "Huh? Why did you bring back a little brat?"

  "You're big but not very bright, are you?" the Blood Dwarf chuckled. "We fled all the way to Asgard in such a hurry. Elder Ragnar's previous alchemy assistant couldn't escape and was killed by the Palace of the Heavenly Apex’s disciples. Naturally, he needs to find a new one." He grinned, showing his teeth. "But now that Elder Ragnar has his new assistant, shouldn't we pick a time to explore the canyon?"

  "Exactly! The Blood Dwarf hits the nail on the head," the green-skirted woman quickly agreed. "Elder Ragnar, while this canyon may hold some danger, it could also be a treasure land. What's more, no other cultivators seem to frequent this place. It's a heaven-sent opportunity."

  The Blood Dwarf and the bearded man nodded in agreement. For treasure-seeking cultivators like them, the greatest enemy was often not the demonic beasts or traps within a spiritual site, but other malicious treasure hunters. Each of them had taken the lives of no fewer than ten fellow cultivators. Scattered, wandering cultivators like them, who had survived this long, were mostly ruthless and decisive individuals who would kill without hesitation.