Chapter One Hundred Fourteen: The Transformation of the Swamp (Apologies for the numbering errors in previous chapters :-D)

Grasping the supple branches firmly, Han Shuo exerted all his strength and leapt forward, his body tracing a semicircular arc through the air. As he descended back to his starting point, he delivered a powerful kick to the tree trunk with both legs, then sprang forth again like a flash of lightning.

Repeating this motion several times, Han Shuo’s swings grew broader and his speed faster with each pass. The onlookers watched him in astonishment, their hearts wavering alongside his erratic movements.

Just as Han Shuo sensed he had reached the peak of his swinging velocity, he suddenly shouted, “Angelica, prepare to cast Gale Technique!”

At that moment, Han Shuo abruptly released his grip. Propelled by immense inertia, he shot across the swamp toward the opposite side. As he left the branches, a rudimentary glider—previously stored within his spatial ring—appeared beneath him, as if sprouting a pair of wings.

Simultaneously, Angelica chanted the Gale Technique with unwavering confidence. A fierce windstorm erupted from thin air around Han Shuo’s position, carrying him gently over the swamp.

Without the glider’s aid, Han Shuo would have shot out like lightning and perhaps plummeted into the depths of the swamp. But now, aided by the glider and propelled by the gale, he floated miraculously toward the center of the marsh, moving with measured calm rather than haste.

“Oh my God, he really did it!” Nia gasped in disbelief.

The others, too, wore expressions of amazement, except for Tranks, who remained solemn and grave. “The center of the swamp holds the densest poison gas, and the carnivorous plants there are formidable foes. It won’t be easy to obtain the Dagmar fruit in such a short time. I hope he succeeds.”

Tranks’ words brought the group back to the reality of Han Shuo’s mission: it was not merely to cross the swamp, but to secure the Dagmar fruit. The weight of the task settled heavily upon them all.

Han Shuo’s concentration sharpened to an unprecedented degree as he slowly neared the swamp’s heart. His grip tightened around the Demon Slayer Blade, but his eyes remained closed, relying on his spiritual awareness to detect any anomaly in the central area.

Suddenly, the Demon Slayer Blade emitted a piercing shriek as it soared from Han Shuo’s palm into the swamp. Carnivorous plants immediately extended their grasping tendrils, attempting to ensnare the blade and drag it beneath the murky surface. Yet the blade’s keen edge did not disappoint; thick vines were severed in swathes, falling limp into the mire.

In moments, a large swath of carnivorous plants surrounding the Dagmar fruit had been cleared. As Han Shuo’s glider drew closer, the Demon Slayer Blade, guided by his will, cut through everything with effortless precision. At this instant, with his eyes still closed, Han Shuo seemed to merge in spirit with the blade, as if he himself had become an indomitable weapon.

Three elemental spirits manifested simultaneously in the area, each observing the changes around the Dagmar fruit from different angles. As Han Shuo approached slowly, the carnivorous plants shattered beneath the blade’s relentless assault.

When Han Shuo was still a few meters from the fruit, he suddenly opened his eyes wide, his body tilting as he grasped a rope loop in his hand, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the Dagmar fruit. He ignored the encroaching carnivorous plants and the faintly spreading poison mist, as if these dangers no longer existed.

The watchers on the shore grew tense; Angelica’s breathing deepened, her flushed cheeks betraying her excitement at the unfolding drama.

With a sharp “swish,” the rope loop shot forth. The Demon Slayer Blade, which had been cleaving nearby plants, reversed course and flew toward the fruit’s humanoid neck, its sharp tail carrying the rope with uncanny precision under Han Shuo’s command.

A foul stench suddenly filled the air, overwhelming Han Shuo. For a moment, his chest tightened painfully and his mind spun in dizziness. The blade, guided by his fleeting loss of focus, faltered and began to fall erratically toward the swamp below.

“Careful! Hold on!” Afra on the shore shouted sharply, urging Han Shuo to regain his concentration.

Instinctively, Han Shuo’s elemental energy surged to his chest, dispelling the oppressive tightness bit by bit. His spinning mind cleared, and with renewed resolve, the blade emitted a fierce howl. Its edge vibrated violently before darting forward like lightning once more, the rope loop landing precisely around the neck of the Dagmar fruit’s humanoid form.

A wave of joy surged within Han Shuo. He inhaled deeply and tugged hard on the rope, which tightened swiftly. Carnivorous plants lunged again, but the Demon Slayer Blade’s slicing destroyed them strand by strand; some severed vines oozed with iridescent fluids.

Despite the onlookers’ anxious dread, the Dagmar fruit slowly emerged from the swamp. Han Shuo’s strength increased steadily, and with the blade’s help, he severed the fruit’s lower body. With a sudden heave, he lifted the fruit—still attached by neck and upper limbs—from the marsh.

Carefully drawing it in, Han Shuo secured the fruit within his spatial ring. The glider carried him, along with the prize, across the swamp’s center, drifting slowly toward the far shore.

“They’ve stolen it!” A shrill cry pierced the air as four flaming arrows shot toward Han Shuo’s body. At the same time, the muddy ground beneath erupted, forming a gigantic hand of muck that reached out to grasp Han Shuo’s legs.

“Damn it! Enemies!” Tranks cursed loudly from the shore.

Han Shuo, only a dozen meters from the far bank, faced the greatest threat from the massive mud hand. He had no choice but to recall the Demon Slayer Blade from afar to confront this new menace.

Two of the flaming arrows targeted Han Shuo himself, while the other two aimed for his glider below. He would rather suffer wounds than let the glider catch fire and crash. Drawing a dagger from his spatial ring, Han Shuo fiercely swung it to deflect the incoming arrows.

The burning arrows proved formidable. Han Shuo, perched precariously atop the glider, lacked a firm footing and struggled to fend them all off. He managed to block two, but one struck the calf of his leg, searing him with agonizing heat.

Another arrow was only partially deflected, falling beneath the glider and igniting it.

“Be careful! He’s about to reach shore!” On the swamp’s opposite bank, a dozen or so figures stood ready to spring. Their garb suggested mercenaries or a private team, a mixed group of various professions.

Rage surged in Han Shuo’s heart. He longed to annihilate these attackers who had taken advantage of the swamp’s breadth and the vigilance of his comrades to ambush him.

During the chaos, Han Shuo finally secured the Dagmar fruit inside his spatial ring. The arrow lodged in his calf burned fiercely, and the glider’s flames crept upward, scorching his sleeves and bringing him excruciating pain.

Despite the torment, Han Shuo and his burning glider pressed on toward the shore. The attackers, merciless and cunning, nocked more arrows, eager to shoot him down midair.

Suddenly, a scorpion’s roar echoed. Han Shuo saw Tranks charging fiercely toward the attackers, sword drawn. Nearby, Afra and the other adventurers hurried forward, their anger boiling over.

Meanwhile, the mud hand, once conjured by an earth mage, had calmed under the Demon Slayer Blade’s influence. When the arrows whistled again, the blade returned swiftly to Han Shuo’s side, slicing the volleys to splinters.

Enduring the searing pain that blackened his hair and scorched his arms, Han Shuo—fueled by bitter hatred—fell to the far shore with his glider ablaze.

After wrenching the arrow from his calf, Han Shuo stood with a grim, fearsome expression. His piercing, deadly gaze fixed unwaveringly on the treacherous assailants who had dared ambush him.