Mist Empire’s Rise: Fake Noble to Fog Queen
Chapter 229: Ahhh! Thank You to “Hedan Who Likes the Speckled-Back Pigeon” for the Gift King!
Gladys rubbed her eyes, yawned hugely, and dropped beside the campfire.
Luo Wei had just thrown on fresh wood; the flames leapt high, baking them in comfortable warmth.
Gladys twitched her nose and caught a faint blood tang. Eyes widening, she finally noticed several small magic beast corpses beside the fire.
Rustle rustle—
A sound!
Her ears pricked; her pupils blew wide. Her gaze snapped to a bush not far off.
Branches quivered. Prey incoming.
Gladys drew her longsword and lunged. A few sharp, dying howls split the open riverbank—then silence within ten seconds.
She came back proudly with another small magic beast, sat—then from the other side came the stealthy scrape of something moving through brush.
She shot to her feet again and sprinted off, sword on her shoulder.
For more than two hours Gladys repeated the loop: sit—spring up—kill a magic beast—return—sit. By the time the others woke, the pile of small corpses before the tent was a little hill.
Luo Wei stared at the single‑stroke kills, astonished. “Gladys, you got all of these?”
Head tilted high, firelight glazing her chin bright, Gladys declared, “Eleven. Easy.”
If she’d had a tail it would be whirring like a propeller and sending her skyward.
“Your swordsmanship improved again,” Luo Wei praised. “You’re really impressive.”
Yesterday at noon, killing gnawer rats, Gladys still needed three or four probing thrusts to find a weak point.
One night later, her blade work and eye had leapt this far. You really can’t quantify talent.
After Hol finished stripping valuables, the five doused the fire and headed for the valley to the east.
A group of medium magic beasts and a single large magic beast were there. Luo Wei had seen them entrenched at midday; still present at night—perfect time to clear them out.
With the acceleration from Magic Runes, they vaulted two mountains in twenty minutes and reached the valley’s high edge.
The moment they entered the forest on this side, a jolt of danger surged up; every hair on their bodies stood on end.
Back over the ridge they’d still heard beasts running, branches snapping. One crest later—everything gone.
The dark primeval forest lay deathly silent. Even the faint crunch of their feet on leaf litter was razor clear.
Too quiet. Quiet enough to make hearts pound.
They held torches to see, yet the firelight made them blinder: a bright core—and beyond it, darkness thick as a drawn curtain hiding the world outside.
Towering trees sealed the sky, as if a pitch‑black iron pot had been clapped over their heads, trapping them in this cramped slice of world.
Suddenly Gladys seized her hilt and let a low throat sound slip out, startling the rest.
Luo Wei caught her wrist, voice low. “Gladys, what is it?”
“Magic beast. Closing.” Gladys’s tense gaze swept the dark—yet this time her nose and ears felt useless; she couldn’t place a direction.
After a few moments searching, her nerves slowly loosened. “No magic beast. Heard wrong.”
A werewolf—hearing wrong?
Luo Wei’s heart tightened instead. Were they “lucky” enough to bump the large magic beast this fast?
According to her divination map, the big one should still be some distance off. Had it shifted over?
Clang—
Hol suddenly whipped out his iron pot, eyes locked on a point ahead.
“What is it? What?” Jack’s heart jumped to his throat; he snapped his magic wand up. “Something there?”
Hol frowned, then lowered the pot, a flicker of confusion passing. “Seems… nothing.”
“Can you not keep jumping like that?” Axina snapped. “We haven’t even met a magic beast and you’re scaring us to death.”
“Keep it down,” Luo Wei murmured. “Hol and Gladys wouldn’t react for no reason. There’s definitely a magic beast watching us.”
Jack’s skin crawled. “Watching us? What magic beast is that smart?”
Aren’t magic beasts supposed to just pounce?
Axina now felt the wrongness too. “So what do we do—throw a few fireballs and test it?”
Most magic beasts feared fire; a fireball usually sent them running.
“Fireballs won’t help,” Hol said. “We’re in the light; it’s in the dark. We throw them, we split our focus—it could slip behind and strike.”
“Then we build a big fire?” Jack offered.
Luo Wei kept scanning. While they spoke, the wind noise around them had clearly grown.
Fast, light steps. Agile frame and limbs. Night vision, hearing, reflexes—at least on par with a werewolf.
Feline, she concluded.
Leopard—or tiger?
“Put the torches out.”
“What?” Four voices, stunned.
“The area they light is too small, and they’ll burn out soon anyway. Not much help,” Luo Wei said patiently. “If we douse them, we might actually see it.”
“How do we fight in the dark?” Axina objected. “See nothing—just wait to get bitten?”
“We won’t,” Hol said. “Most nocturnal magic beasts’ eyes reflect. With starlight we can spot them.”
“Right.” Luo Wei nodded. “Hol, get your potion bottles ready. Once the torches are out, throw the moment you have a direction.”
“Got it.” Hol palmed his bottles.
“Gladys, Axina, Jack—when I douse the torches with water magic, be combat‑ready. If the potion fails, we counter at once.”
“Okay,” the three answered.
“Alright—I’m starting.” Luo Wei finished the last syllable of her spell and lashed out a water dragon. “Extinguish!”
Flame vanished. Their night vision couldn’t snap back instantly—during that blind heartbeat Gladys caught a faint, crisp sound behind them.
“Behind us!” she shouted.
Wind rushed; cold tingled up their spines. Hol yanked a cork and flung a bottle back over his shoulder.
Bang!
The bottle struck something. Medicinal paste splashed, unleashing a sky‑high stench; a loud retch echoed in the dark.
A powerful tail swept across their backs; fur brushed the skin at Gladys’s nape. Startled, she slashed—hit nothing.
As their eyes adjusted, forest contours slowly bled out of the black.
The reek thickened. The magic beast’s harsh gagging sounded again and again, as though circling them.
“Ah!” Gladys cried.
Luo Wei: “What is it?”
“Magic beasts—so many magic beasts!”
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