Body command feeding world

(May everyone have a blessed second day of the Lunar New Year)

The night in the Western Wilderness was like a shroud soaked in ice water—cold, sticky, and fishy. The fog was so thick that it couldn't be dispersed, and even breathing it into your lungs carried the smell of rotting earth and dried blood.

Wu Weigang slayed the coffin-mountain zombie, carefully concealing the second superior-grade evil treasure close to his body. His black iron spear hung askew, and with steady steps, he continued deeper into the desolate forest. He had no intention of returning to the city; tonight he would slay a few more ferocious beasts, accumulate more resources, and get one step closer to obtaining a marrow-based weapon.

The withered trees in the forest were twisted like ghostly claws, their branches bared and menacing. The rotten leaves on the ground were so thick they reached above the ankles, and stepping on them felt soft and yielding, like stepping on rotten flesh.

After walking less than two miles, the fog suddenly changed.

It was no longer a biting cold, but a warm, moist, and cloyingly sweet fragrance, like rotting nectar or the smoky aroma seeping from a long-closed coffin. One whiff of it made one dizzy and lightheaded.

Wu Wei suddenly stopped in his tracks, his back instantly tensing up.

It doesn't smell bad.

It's not the smell of a corpse.

It's a...living, eerie, and alluringly sweet and pungent flavor.

He had just circulated his blood essence to refresh himself when his vision suddenly blurred.

It wasn't a beautiful scene, nor was it a scene of springtime.

It was an endless field of pale white flowers, the blossoms as large as palm-leaf fans, their petals layered upon each other, their color deathly white, moving without wind, emitting a soft, feminine chuckle.

In the center of the flower field, a flower plant slowly rises from the ground, taller than half a person, with a dark green stem covered with fine blood vessels, and the top of it does not support a flower bud.

It is a flower-shaped head the size of a human head.

Half of it was a pale, rotting woman's face, with blurred eyebrows and eyes, lips split to her ears, sticky nectar hanging from the corners of her mouth, a half-smile on her face, and hollow eye sockets from which blackish-red fluid oozed.

The other half is a flower bud wrapped in layers, with thick, sticky petals that wriggle slightly, like a living creature breathing, and a sweet, fishy smell seeps out from between the gaps.

The face-shaped flower bud gently turned, "staring" at him, emitting a whisper as faint as a mosquito's buzz, yet omnipresent:

"Stay...with me..."

"Go to sleep... don't tire yourself out anymore..."

"There is no fighting here...no death..."

The sound penetrates directly into the mind; it doesn't just enter the ears, it enters the soul.

Wu Wei felt his soul go limp, all his strength was instantly drained, his limbs went numb, his blood stagnated, and his consciousness felt as if it were being gripped tightly by a cold, wet hand, dragged into an endless dream.

The loneliness of the past life, the escape in this life, the scene of Shi Meng dying before my eyes, the despair of Tong Shou playing cat and mouse, the pressure from the two martial arts masters in the inner city... all the pain, exhaustion, and fear were gently enveloped by the fragrance of the flowers. I just wanted to close my eyes, fall down, fall asleep, and never wake up again.

His eyes gradually lost focus, the spear slipped from his palm, his body swayed slightly, and his breathing became slow and shallow.

The flower head slowly split open, its petals and rotten flesh unfolding together to reveal fine, needle-like teeth that seemed poised to devour his soul in one gulp.

At the very moment when his mind completely collapsed—

Deep within the marrow sea, Shu's will exploded like thunder, sharp as a broken sword, forcefully tearing through the illusion:

Awake!!

Wu Wei shuddered violently, as if doused with ice water, and suddenly came to his senses!

The pale flower field before my eyes instantly crumbled.

The illusion dissipates, and reality is stark.

He still stood in the withered forest and cold mist, and three feet away, the strange flower plant was gently trembling in front of him.

The head-shaped flower at the top, half human face and half flower bud, with its mouth split open and black liquid dripping from its empty eye sockets, was staring intently at him. Its petals were constantly wriggling, making a sticky, soft sound.

There is no more bizarre or terrifying sight than this.

It resembles neither a flower nor a person, it is sinister and eerie, piercing the deepest fears of the human heart.

Wu Wei's back was soaked with cold sweat, his heart was pounding, but he did not back down in the slightest. He caught the black iron spear that was about to fall with his right hand, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The demonic flower realized that the illusion had been broken. The human-head flower bud suddenly shrank and let out a sharp, piercing screech that was neither human nor flower. Its stem twisted wildly and rushed towards him!

Petals were like knives, human faces were flying everywhere, and the smell of decay and stench wafted over!

Instead of retreating, Wu Wei advanced. His Yangyan Bone Armor instantly ignited, and a golden aura emanated from his body, dispelling the sticky, demonic wind. He stepped forward, twisted his waist, and thrust his spear in one fluid motion. The spear tip, like a shooting star, pierced straight into the center of the flower bud—the point of spiritual light where the human face met the flower bud!

puff!

The spear tip pierced deep!

A viscous, greenish-black liquid spurted out, emitting a pungent, fishy smell, and corroded the ground, producing fine black smoke.

The human head flower bud convulsed, twisted, and struggled violently; the rotting human face emitted a mournful wail; the petals contracted, rotted, and fell off frantically; and the stem dried up and turned black at a visible speed.

Within moments, the entire flower demon collapsed to the ground, turning into a pool of foul-smelling, putrid liquid, leaving behind only a crystal-clear spirit flower that emitted a faint lingering fragrance.

Wu Wei stood there, panting heavily, gun in hand, staring at the pool of putrid liquid, his eyes still filled with lingering fear.

This thing is not as violent as the Sha, but it is more sinister, more treacherous, and more soul-stealing.

He bent down to pick up Lingrui, his fingertips feeling slightly cool.

Shu's thoughts calmly resonated:

This is a bewitching demon spirit. Its spirit cores can be exchanged in the inner city. They can be exchanged for mid-grade evil treasures, and accumulated, they can be exchanged for high-grade fragments.

Wu Wei gripped the Spirit Core tightly, carefully storing it along with the two top-grade evil treasures. He then looked up into the deeper, darker, and foggier depths of the Western Wilderness.

After calming down a bit, he had no intention of backing down.

The road ahead is long.

Three more top-grade items are needed.

He bent down to pick up the spear, its tip pointing diagonally at the ground. His blood essence flowed smoothly again, and his back remained straight.

The night was as dark as ink, the withered forest as cold as a prison, and evil spirits lurked in the shadows.

The young man's solitary figure stepped into the boundless darkness once more, one step at a time.