What is humanity’s most primal desire?
Fear.
When someone can wield that power, that person is bound to be terrifying.
On his way to find Ye Qingyi, Su Mo still had countless giant serpents throwing themselves at him like they had a death wish. With no other option, he decided to test out his newly acquired secret technique. Following the pattern of the Art of Rage, he named it the Art of Fear.
This technique had no direct offensive power nor any defensive capabilities. Unlike the Art of Rage, which amplified one’s own abilities, the Art of Fear acted directly on the opponent, instilling terror in them. This reduced their will to fight and disrupted their mental state. The weaker the target’s mental fortitude, the more pronounced the effect.
At first glance, it might seem useless, but in reality, it was a truly divine skill.
“Subduing the enemy without fighting”—back in Xia country, that was hailed as the highest form of combat!
Sure enough, the moment he activated the Art of Fear, every serpent within a ten-meter radius immediately acted as if they’d seen something horrifying and bolted. Those beyond that range would also feel dread creeping in as they approached.
Although some mysterious force still drove them forward, their mental strength was far too inferior to Su Mo’s, and quite a few of them fainted on the spot.
This not only made things much easier for him but also gave him a chance to familiarize himself with how the Art of Fear worked in real combat.
He even found himself thinking—if someone like Zhang Fei had access to such a godlike technique, the only person who’d have died of fright back then certainly wouldn’t have been just Xia Houjie.
And that one famous song lyric might’ve turned into: A roar at injustice, and oops—they’re all dead now…
The Art of Fear’s greatest strength was its area-of-effect nature. For now, its only limitation was its small range. But if he could one day expand it to hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands of meters, then even if millions stood before him, with a flick of his fingers, he could make them all tremble in terror.
Now that would be next-level cool. Just thinking about it got him hyped.
He traveled north and eventually arrived at a shimmering little river.
The river was only about ten meters wide, but the fish inside were anything but friendly. They all stared intently at Su Mo, as if this human had already become their prey—just waiting for him to step right in.
Since the fish were so eager, Su Mo decided to give them what they wanted. He walked straight to the riverbank and dipped his right hand into the water.
A swarm of carnivorous fish rushed toward him, the largest of them over two meters long, leaping out of the water in an attempt to swallow him whole.
Su Mo furrowed his brow and sighed helplessly. “Too big. Can’t finish it.”
With a smack, he sent the giant fish flying with a single slap, and it landed in the distance with a loud plop.
Then came a fish about two feet long, leaping out of the water.
Slender fingers gently rested on top of the fish’s head—what a picturesque scene.
But in the next instant, the tone shifted entirely. Those delicate-looking hands easily gripped the fish’s head, and no matter how hard it thrashed, it couldn’t break free.
“I’m tired of eating the same old stuff. Time to switch things up today.” Su Mo muttered to himself as he gathered dry wood and lit it with Netherfire.
Before long, the aroma of grilled meat began to fill the air.
He pulled out various seasonings and started mixing them, until a fragrant, perfectly grilled fish came to life.
As the saying goes: Food comes first, no matter what.
All Su Mo wanted right now was to enjoy his meal. But of course, at that very moment, an uninvited guest showed up.
Su Mo pretended not to notice. Blowing on the fish to cool it down, he carefully pressed his lips to the tender meat. The crispy outside and soft inside released bursts of sizzling oil with each bite—not greasy at all, but incredibly savory thanks to the perfectly balanced seasonings.
As he ate, he even pulled out a carton of milk from his jade hairpin.
The visitor was none other than the most mysterious of all the trial participants—Yuan Tianxiu. Seeing Su Mo completely ignore him while enjoying his meal so heartily, his face immediately fell.
“Do you know how incredibly rude you’re being?”
Su Mo jolted as if startled, putting on a terrified expression. “Holy crap—when did you show up?!”
Yuan Tianxiu narrowed his eyes, his expression unreadable.
“You were drawn here by the smell of my grilled fish, weren’t you?” Su Mo’s lips were greasy, his face full of bliss. “Too bad, though—I only made one.”
“Who said I—” Yuan Tianxiu tried to deny it, but his stomach chose that exact moment to let out an audible growl. He quickly composed himself. “I came to tell you that I’ve found a treasured site. I don’t know what’s inside, but it’s bound to be something good. The only catch is—to get in, we each need to provide some of our blood.”
“Exactly nine people?” Su Mo asked suspiciously.
“That’s right. The mechanism is a nine-square grid, and each compartment has a vessel for collecting blood.”
“But Orochi has eight heads. Everything here is connected to the number eight—so why is nine showing up?”
Yuan Tianxiu explained, “If my master hadn’t told me the story of the great serpent god, I probably wouldn’t know either. Legend has it that the divine serpent originally had nine heads.”
“I know that. Then someone cut one off with a single sword strike.”
He was referring to Xiangliu, the ancient beast of Xia country. Xiangliu originally had nine heads, but the Yellow Emperor severed one, leaving it with eight—and Xiangliu was highly likely the same being as Orochi.
“Impossible. The great god is incredibly powerful. How could anything in this world possibly sever one of its heads?” Yuan Tianxiu immediately argued. “The great god willingly gave up one head to bestow blessings upon its devoted followers.”
Su Mo almost burst out laughing.
“So, are you interested?”
“Of course. But not right now. I still need to find my friends. I have to go with them.”
Yuan Tianxiu nodded. “No problem. Let’s agree to meet at the destination in three days, then.”
“Where exactly is the destination?”
“Head straight north. You’ll see what looks like an altar, about forty or fifty kilometers from here. That’s the place.”
“Got it. I’ll try my best to be on time.”
Noticing that Yuan Tianxiu showed no sign of leaving, Su Mo blinked and asked, “Is there something else?”
Yuan Tianxiu hesitated for a moment, then couldn’t hold back. “How did you grill that fish? Why does it smell so good? Every time I try, it turns out awful.”
“Grilled it with fire.” Su Mo replied with a completely straight face, then added, “Oh, and you obviously need a fish.”
Realizing Su Mo wasn’t going to share the secret, Yuan Tianxiu gritted his teeth and turned to leave, but not before snapping back, “No wonder—I used water to grill mine…”
Watching him walk away defeated, Su Mo couldn’t help but chuckle and called out, “It’s just seasonings. As long as you control the timing, order, and combinations, anyone can make it taste good.”
Yuan Tianxiu was already far off, but his lips twitched uncontrollably upon hearing that: Who in their right mind carries all that stuff around when they’re out?
If only he knew what Su Mo actually had on him—it would completely blow his mind.
Seasonings were nothing. He had pots, pans, bowls, plates, rice, flour—every possible ingredient and utensil that could be carried. All of it, and not a single thing missing.
After all, with so much storage space, leaving it empty would’ve been such a waste. Might as well put it to good use.
When you’re out and about, you can deprive yourself of anything—but never deprive your stomach.
What’s that saying again?
Only food and more food shall not be let down.
