The night wind was bleak and chilly.
Zhu Ju's figure appeared at the foot of a towering mountain.
It was still some time before dawn, and in the mountain village not far away, wisps of cooking smoke were already rising.
As he drew closer, Zhu Ju's brows furrowed slightly.
He had been here twice before, observing the village in secret, and had confirmed it was an utterly ordinary place.
The villagers also showed no signs of cultivating Martial Arts.
But now...
Even against the wind, he could smell the stench of blood.
The closer he got, the stronger the smell of blood became, and the wisps of cooking smoke, usually a symbol of tranquility, now seemed abnormal.
"CRACK!"
A dry twig snapped underfoot. Zhu Ju stopped, his eyes fixed on a strange, writhing thing by the corner of a house ahead.
'A rat?'
'How could it be so big?'
A rat the size of a piglet was nosing at the corner of the wall. After hearing the strange sound, its slick, greasy body suddenly froze.
