Judging by his level of skill, it was clear he had been living this way for quite some time.

After the meal, David Harris lay comfortably in his tent and began to practice breathing exercises.

Now, when he practiced, he no longer cared about posture or movement—breathing exercises had become as natural to him as breathing itself. Perhaps he had never really stopped practicing at all.

He raised his hand to look at the small pouch on his left arm, and David Harris couldn’t help but smile wryly.

The polar cold iron that Johnson had given him was inside. Over the past year, David Harris had traveled all over the country, searching everywhere for skilled craftsmen capable of forging it, only to be disappointed again and again. Aside from gaining a wealth of knowledge about weapon forging, he had achieved almost nothing.

He couldn’t help but feel he’d been deceived. Sometimes he really wanted to go up Mount Emei and argue with Johnson, but he always held back.

David Harris hadn’t been to a big city in a long time, spending most of his time in sparsely populated areas.

Over the past year, David Harris had heard many stories about his former comrades in the Wolf Army—each one a hero in their own right. David Harris didn’t want to get too involved with them, to avoid any unexpected trouble.

Finally, in a remote mountain village, after David Harris used his miraculous healing skills to save a gravely ill elder, the well-traveled old man recognized the polar cold iron that David Harris carried on his back while expressing his gratitude.

At the time, David Harris was both surprised and delighted, and hurriedly asked if there was a way to forge it. But the old man shook his head, saying that this polar cold iron was a treasure of heaven and earth, not something that could be refined by ordinary fire—it could only be smelted by the true fire from within oneself. Only then did David Harris give up his search for skilled craftsmen.

Since then, David Harris had always worn it on his arm, constantly channeling his internal energy into it, trying to refine the cold iron. After taking his revenge, David Harris no longer had a purpose in life, but this time, Johnson and the others had reignited his fighting spirit, and he was determined to forge the cold iron into a peerless blade.

With a goal in mind, David Harris continued to travel and practice medicine everywhere. His medical skills were already superb, and with the aid of his internal energy, his healing was even faster. Some medicinal herbs that no one else could gather, David Harris could easily obtain, saving many lives.

This time, it was because he had traveled to a wild region and heard that in this misty forest shrouded in deadly miasma, there was a rare herb that could bring the dead back to life, so he decided to come and take a look.

David Harris was used to this kind of life as he traveled the world, so he always carried a tent and other supplies, which came in handy in this forest.

After a night passed, David Harris was in no hurry to look for herbs, but instead took his time to observe his surroundings.

This forest had been untouched by humans for many years, mainly due to the deadly miasma floating above—rumor had it that even a touch would rot the skin, with no cure. Relying on his profound skills, David Harris had forcefully formed an airtight barrier half a foot from his body, hacking his way through the undergrowth as he advanced.

Years of abandonment had turned this place into a paradise for rare birds and beasts, and all kinds of strange herbs grew exceptionally well—just a casual glance revealed that they were several grades higher than those outside. At the very least, their age was incomparable.

There were also many fierce beasts, but David Harris was highly skilled and courageous, and with his handmade machete in hand, most wild animals didn’t dare provoke him. The few that did had already become David Harris’s meals.

After staying by a pond for a few days, David Harris gathered plenty of herbs. Seeing that there was nothing else worth staying for, he packed up and ventured deeper into the forest.

After a day or two of walking, he arrived at a strange place.

What was strange was that, in the midst of the lush primeval forest, there suddenly appeared a sunken area. Even stranger, this depression was completely barren, exposing bare ground. No wonder nothing grew here—the exposed surface was all hard granite.

But David Harris noticed some other problems.

The entire depression was a huge hexagon, and with some strange cracks on the ground, it formed a bizarre pattern. The hexagon spanned about two miles across, and one could see from one end to the other at a glance.

The hexagonal depression wasn’t truly devoid of life. With David Harris’s sharp eyes, he noticed that in the very center of the hexagon, there was a small patch of earth-colored soil, with a single plant growing on it.

Relying on his experience in gathering herbs, David Harris immediately determined that this was a rare treasure of heaven and earth.

Thinking of this, David Harris couldn’t help but get excited. He jumped down into the depression and ran toward the center.

As he approached the center, David Harris could see clearly that it was a fiery red fruit tree. Calling it a tree was a stretch—fruit grass would be more accurate. On a single grass stem grew just one bright red fruit, which was quite peculiar.

David Harris grew more and more excited. Judging by the shape of the red fruit, it looked more and more like the legendary Ten-Thousand-Year Vermilion Fruit described in books. It seemed that in this wild land, untouched by humans, nature’s miraculous power had produced many treasures.

From the look of the fruit, it was almost ripe.

He looked around and saw nothing unusual.

David Harris turned his head, and at that moment, the vermilion fruit ripened. In an instant, the fruit turned from red to purple. David Harris dashed forward and, with a single stroke, dug up the entire fruit, roots and all.

The Ten-Thousand-Year Vermilion Fruit ripened in a flash, and David Harris had timed it perfectly, digging it up with the roots intact. As he channeled his internal energy, the soil fell away, revealing a bare stem.

Suddenly, he sensed danger. His hand moved reflexively, swinging his blade—“ding!”—a spark flew, and a gray shadow flashed away.

With David Harris’s sharp eyes, he immediately saw the true form of that gray shadow.