Soulbound Destiny

Chapter 32: Shadows in the Forest

Gene ran with every ounce of strength left in him, his lungs heaving like bellows, each breath tasting of blood and tearing agony. His old wound along his back had split open again, warm blood soaking through his clothes.

But he could not stop, could not look back. He plunged into dense thickets, using the terrain to change direction constantly. Thorns ripped at his skin, but he scarcely noticed.

He ran until every sound behind him vanished, until his legs felt like they were filled with lead, refusing to move another step. Only then did he collapse into a dense patch of ferns, sprawled on the ground, gasping in great, ragged breaths, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Above, the night sky stretched endlessly, and occasionally, the distant cries of eagles could be heard, fading into the darkness. The battle in the sky seemed to have concluded, or perhaps one side had chosen to retreat.

Who—who had commanded the white eagle at that critical moment, indirectly saving him?

Ling Yue? He immediately dismissed the thought. She was facing the wall, impossible to be out here. And that white eagle seemed to be an old rival of Feng Tianyu’s blue eagle, more like…

A vague notion flashed across his mind, but he could not be certain.

For now, the most important thing was that he had temporarily shaken off Feng Tianyu!

Yet the danger was far from over. He was badly injured, physically exhausted, and still deep in the wilderness.

Worse, the ominous “thump-thump” sound that had haunted him like a shadow had not vanished after his escape. They seemed to have determined his direction and were hopping steadily, deliberately, toward the very place he now hid.

Gene gave a bitter laugh. These things were even more persistent than the most seasoned hunting dogs.

He struggled upright, checking his injuries. The wound on his back required re-dressing. He tore a piece of his garment and painstakingly wrapped it. Then, he knew he had to find a safer place to spend the night, as well as a source of water and food.

In the following days, Gene struggled to survive in the wilderness. He hid from potential pursuers, stayed alert for wild beasts, and endured the nightly presence of the two undead “guards.”

He grew increasingly cautious and silent, his eyes taking on a wild, wolf-like edge, hardened by endurance. He learned to set more effective traps for small animals, identify edible plants and roots, and use the terrain to conceal his movements.

The scroll of Samadhi True Fire—he occasionally took it out to study, yet it remained as inscrutable as a heavenly script. He carefully stored it away, knowing it might be his only future reliance.

One evening, as he bent down to drink from a small stream, a melodious yet slightly sorrowful flute tune drifted from upstream.

A flute? In this desolate wilderness, who could possibly be playing it?

Gene tensed immediately, ducking behind a large rock, cautiously peering upstream.