Tumor-ridden pythons as thick as tree trunks rose from the mire, only to tremble and sink away when Jared’s marked aura washed over them. By dusk, a dense forest of purple bamboo appeared ahead, each stalk swaying like spears beneath a copper sky.

Lavender mist drifted between the canes, so caustic it sent ripples across Jared’s marked aura shield like stones dropped in water.

“We’ve reached the outer line of Venom Valley. Their venom slaves lurk in this bamboo, cultivators whose hearts are chained by poison,” Corin warned, voice low against the sighing wind.

Just as finished, dozens of shapes burst from the fog, bodies moving with jerky malice. They were skin and bone, their flesh stained a sickly blue-purple, their eyes laced red, each gripping a bone spear dripping with oily toxin.

“Attack!” the venom slaves howled, the word cracked and hollow as rotten wood. They lunged, movements stiff yet fearless, as though death itself had been cut from their vocabulary.

Flaxseed flung three Flame Charms. Golden fire rolled out like a breaking tide, reducing the front rank to smoking Cinders.

“Mind their blood!” Corin shouted. Jared blurred forward, his Dragonslayer Sword flashing free with a metallic cry.