With the experience from last time, the five didn’t leave after packing up their spoils. They hid instead in a leeward hollow a few hundred meters off and waited in silence.

A breeze thinned the potion stench; the smell of blood, however, grew richer.

Wouldn’t a whole field of Wind-Chasing Lynx corpses be more attractive than a pile of Needle-Furred Gnawer Rats?

Give it ten‑plus minutes—something would come to scavenge.

Just as Luo Wei expected, only a few minutes later a faint rustle stirred in the woods.

It was so slight an ordinary person might miss it, but the Siria squad had Gladys, a walking cheat—no sound within ten kilometers escaped her ears.

“Small magic beasts. A group. Six hundred meters,” Gladys breathed at Luo Wei’s ear. “Do we strike?”

“Wait,” Luo Wei said. She didn’t want to spook other magic beasts still watching.

Most diurnal magic beasts had already been culled by academy teams during daylight; the ones left were almost all nocturnal—and this was their peak active window.

Her map couldn’t track real-time positions. It only let her infer a rough activity range from where they’d been before.

With their night vision still blurry, even knowing a range wouldn’t guarantee finding them. Better to cast bait and let prey walk in.

Soon, dark shapes slipped out of the brush, hustling to the lynx carcasses.

The group finally saw them clearly—black‑and‑white, skunk‑looking little magic beasts: Bloodthirst Weasels.

Bloodthirst Weasels were gregarious, liked to forage in packs, and when facing an enemy would spray an unbearably foul toxic liquid from their anal glands. Any creature hit could go blind for a short time.

Beyond the toxin, they had almost no combat power; a normal person with a shovel could kill one. Yet in the wild they swaggered sideways like little tyrants.

Most predators—Wind-Chasing Lynx, Blade Wolves, Golden-Spotted Leopards, and the like—gave Bloodthirst Weasels a wide berth.

Unless starving to death, they would never eat weasel meat.

Luo Wei was genuinely curious: which reeked worse—the weasel toxin or Hol’s potion?

Not far away, a dozen-plus Bloodthirst Weasels pounced on the lynx corpses and began gorging.

Gladys couldn’t hold back anymore. “We’re still not attacking?”

Luo Wei surveyed the surroundings; no new magic beasts appeared. She nodded. “Alright, we can—”

Before she finished, Gladys arrowed forward.

Luo Wei blinked, then tightened her grip on her magic wand. “Move. After her.”

Though weak, a Bloodthirst Weasel’s toxin could spray ten meters—annoying to handle.

Frightened weasel cries echoed through the dim forest. By the time the other four arrived, Gladys was already walking back, sword in hand.

Ten seconds. From the first weasel shriek to the end—she’d soloed thirteen magic beasts in ten seconds.

How could a human sword be that fast?

Luo Wei dragged her gaze off the bodies and onto Gladys.

Gladys’s face was flushed, pupils dilated; her breathing ran hot and fast. The hand on her sword still trembled faintly.

How had she missed it earlier? Gladys clearly wasn’t normal—like someone on a stimulant.

A stimulant!

In a flash, Luo Wei recalled what Hol had said—the side effects of that “healing” potion: could make a person either overexcited or severely depressed.

So Gladys was in the bad‑quality potion’s overexcited phase?

Luo Wei frowned. Excessive excitation disrupted neural function, drove emotion spikes, raised blood pressure; in severe cases it could kill.

Users of stimulants might appear ferocious and swift early, then later suffer muscle weakness, slowed reactions, dizziness, drowsiness.

Gladys was already over the line.

“Hol, if I have you brew an antidote potion right now, how long?” Luo Wei asked.

“Brewing doesn’t take long, but gathering herbs…” Hol was frank. “Could be till dawn.”

The forest was too dark; finding anything was a slog.

“Can Gladys hold until dawn?” Luo Wei pressed.

Hol caught her concern and reassured her. “You don’t really have to worry. Letting her vent actually helps expel the potion toxins. Once they’re out, she’ll be fine.”

“How long to finish expelling?”

“For someone like Gladys—half a day.”

Half a day—right about dawn?

Luo Wei looked at Gladys; Gladys’s icy blue eyes stared right back.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine,” Gladys said, having heard. She lifted her sword. “See? I kill magic beasts super fast!”

Luo Wei couldn’t help laughing. “Yes. You’re faster than any of us.”

“Someone give me a light?” Hol pulled an empty goatskin pouch from his pack. “I need to collect the Bloodthirst Weasels’ toxin glands. Too dark to see.”

“You even want that disgusting stuff.” Axina edged farther away.

“I’ll do it!” Jack lit a flame with his magic wand and trotted to Hol. “Can you see? Need it brighter?”

After this fight, he deeply appreciated how potions suppressed magic beasts. No complaints about gathering toxins.

If the Master Poisoner valued something, it wasn’t ordinary—it was raw material for miracle potions!

Potions that could net them piles of points!

Once Hol collected the weasel toxin, the five moved on, deeper into the valley.

In the following hours they never again met a pack like the Wind-Chasing Lynx, only a few scattered small magic beasts and three medium ones.

Luo Wei remembered a large magic beast was supposed to be in this valley, but after several loops they saw no sign.

Hol floated a bad idea: split up to search. Whoever found it would fire a fireball skyward to alert the others.

Axina sneered. “That’s a death wish.”

A fireball would just spook the beast—or pin the finder in place. By the time the others arrived, they might be collecting limbs.

This time Luo Wei sided with Axina. “Splitting is dangerous, Hol. How’d you even think of that?”

With his intelligence, he should know better.

Hol shrugged. “We can’t find it. Spread out and the chance of running into it goes up.”

“Oh—so that’s what you meant.” Luo Wei’s mouth curved. “You’re right. We really should split.”

Axina glanced between them, lowered her head in brief thought, then a hint of understanding dawned. “Alright. We split.”

Gladys and Jack were both blank—but obedience was their superpower.

“Okay, which direction do we each take?” Jack asked.

He didn’t get it, but he trusted the captain wouldn’t hang him out to dry.

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