Finding salt was the tribe’s top priority. Now that they had a lead, they had no choice but to pursue it, no matter the risk.
According to Ma Ling, the sea was only four or five days’ journey from the tribe.
At first glance, four or five days might seem like a long trek. But in the orc world, where tribes were scattered far and wide, this was practically next door. In Mao Bai’s former tribe, for instance, salt-exchange missions typically took over a month. The hardships faced during such journeys were unimaginable.
Still, even Yang Luo was unfamiliar with the method Qi Bai had proposed, and many in the tribe doubted whether salt could actually be found in the sea.
The biggest concern was that, according to Ma Shu and Ma Ling, the sea they spoke of lay beyond Montenegro. The last time they had passed through that area, they were fleeing a devastating flood. No one knew how dangerous the return trip might be.
But for orcs, danger was part of life. Once they set a goal, they didn’t back down easily.
Despite this, the tribe was already stretched thin. Yang Luo couldn’t afford to let Qi Bai take too many people away at once. They still needed to explore other possible sources of salt nearby.
In the end, a five-member salt-hunting team was officially formed.
Qi Bai was, of course, the leader—though his expertise would only come into play once they reached the sea. Until then, they needed reliable guides.
Ma Shu and Ma Ling were the natural choices for this, having seen the sea before. And Langze, who was closest to Qi Bai in the tribe, was also part of the team.
The final member was an orc recommended by Yang Luo: an old orc named Xiang Yu.
Perhaps influenced by his animal form—an elephant—Xiang Yu, like Ma Shu and Ma Ling (both horse-type orcs), had an exceptional sense of direction. After Ma Shu and Ma Ling described the area in detail, Xiang Yu confidently promised he could lead them back without issue.
But there was another, equally important reason for Xiang Yu’s inclusion. Langze, Ma Shu, and Ma Ling were all newly adult orcs, and Qi Bai was a sub-orc cub. None of them had much experience surviving in the wild alone. Having an older orc to guide them reassured Yang Luo enough to approve the mission.
To this small tribe, every member was precious.
Yang Luo provided the team with food for their journey.
Thanks to the recent black bear encounter, the tribe had an ample supply of bear meat. Yang Luo distributed enough to last the five-member team for about three days, giving each person four to five kilograms.
As for wild vegetables and fruits, they could be foraged along the way, so Yang Luo didn’t allocate any.
This was the first time Qi Bai had ever received so much meat at once. He stepped outside the cave, gathered some clean leaves, and began wrapping the meat carefully.
But when he returned to his resting spot, he saw Langze had already started a small fire. He was cutting the bear meat into strips and skewering them on branches to roast.
Qi Bai blinked in confusion. “Langze, what are you doing?”
Langze glanced at Qi Bai’s neatly wrapped meat and immediately understood. As a sub-orc, Qi Bai probably hadn’t traveled much, so he wouldn’t know. Langze patiently explained, “Fresh meat spoils quickly. We need to roast it into jerky. That way, it won’t go bad, and more importantly, if we can’t make a fire on the road, we’ll still have cooked meat to eat.”
Qi Bai smacked his forehead. Of course! He actually did know how to make jerky—or rather, his body’s original owner, Mao Bai, did. During his early days on the run, Mao Bai had carried dried meat in the small animal skin pouch on his chest. But by the time Qi Bai had crossed over into this world, the pouch was long gone, and he hadn’t thought much about it since.
With Langze’s reminder, Qi Bai quickly started roasting his share of the meat. As he worked, he discovered another benefit of making jerky: it was much lighter than fresh meat, making it far more convenient for traveling.
The night passed without incident.
The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight warmed Qi Bai’s face, he felt an unprecedented sense of comfort and hope.
He stepped out of the cave and saw the world transformed. The rain that had clung stubbornly to the land now shimmered under the morning sun, making the entire landscape sparkle with life.
The rain had finally stopped.
It felt as though nature itself was congratulating the newly formed tribe, or perhaps cheering on the salt-hunting team about to embark on their journey.
After nearly a month of gloomy skies and relentless rain, the weather had finally cleared. The path ahead, though fraught with danger, seemed just a little brighter.
Qi Bai and his group set off on their journey, the eager eyes of the entire tribe following them as they disappeared into the forest.
Unlike the frantic pace of their escape not long ago, Qi Bai finally had the chance to slow down and appreciate the raw beauty of this world.
Towering trees loomed everywhere, their trunks thick and ancient. The grass and plants, once beaten down by relentless rains, had sprung back to life, vibrant and lush in just a matter of days. The tracks of small animals crisscrossed the forest floor, evidence that the wildlife was also returning to normal after the storms. So far, they hadn’t encountered any large predators, which was good news for the travelers.
But what amazed Qi Bai the most was the abundance of mushrooms. After the rains stopped, mushrooms had sprouted everywhere—on tree trunks, along the roadside, and hidden among rocks. Even without seasoning, the natural umami of mushrooms made them a delicious treat.
And if mushrooms weren’t enough, Langze and the others occasionally caught hares. The wet ground made it easy to spot their tracks where the terrain hadn’t been completely flooded.
Though their days were long—they would set out at dawn and walk until darkness forced them to find shelter—the journey felt less grueling than Qi Bai had anticipated.
For Qi Bai, having roasted rabbit and mushrooms every evening made the trek feel more like a picnic than a mission. Compared to the harrowing days of fleeing for his life, this felt almost luxurious.
It wasn’t until the evening of the fifth day that Qi Bai’s heart stirred with excitement again.
Standing on the edge of a cliff, he looked down and saw it—the vast, endless blue merging seamlessly with the sky.
Qi Bai gripped the wicker basket slung across his body, barely restraining himself from jumping with joy. He pointed eagerly at the shimmering horizon and shouted, “We found the sea! We’ll have salt!”
Ma Shu and Ma Ling, however, didn’t share Qi Bai’s excitement. Fear flickered in their eyes as they stared at the vast waters. Their memories of the sea were filled with terror—of beasts rising from the waves and dragging animals, even orcs, into the depths. But when they heard Qi Bai’s confident declaration about finding salt, their fear was tempered by cautious hope.
“But there’s only water here,” Ma Ling said nervously. “Where do we find salt?”
Qi Bai grinned. “Don’t worry. Let’s find a place to set up camp first. We’ll have salt by tonight.”
The beach, though beautiful, was too exposed. Its wide, open view offered little protection, making it unsuitable for shelter.
Xiang Yu scouted the surrounding area and finally chose a spot beneath a large tree, its back pressed against a sturdy rock. It offered some cover from the elements and potential threats.
Over the past few days, they had grown efficient at setting up temporary camps.
While Qi Bai cleared vines and weeds from the ground, leveling it with leafy branches, Langze and the others returned from the forest with bundles of sticks, leaves, and hay.
Normally, they wouldn’t bother with hay. The sun had only recently returned, and finding dry material was challenging. Plus, they typically only stayed in one spot for a single night—too short to warrant the extra effort.
But today was different.
Qi Bai had already shared his plan: they would stay by the sea for two to three days.
Under normal circumstances, it was still early autumn, and they had plenty of time to prepare for winter. But the recent abnormal cold snap worried Qi Bai. The current temperatures felt more like late autumn from previous years. He feared they wouldn’t have time to make another trip to the sea before winter arrived. Since the journey itself took seven to eight days round-trip, they needed to extract as much crude salt as possible while they were here.
Their camp, therefore, had to be a bit sturdier than usual.
The three orcs moved with practiced efficiency. In no time, they had constructed a simple frame, layering hay and branches on top to form a makeshift roof. They spread more hay across the ground to soften their bedding.
Qi Bai stepped back to inspect their work. The large rock behind them would block the wind and deter attacks from wild beasts. In front of them stood the simple thatched shelter. While it would suffice for keeping out the sun, it likely wouldn’t hold up well in heavy rain.
But given the clear, crisp autumn nights they’d been having, Qi Bai felt confident the weather would stay dry for now.
While everyone worked, Xiang Yu lit a fire at the center of the camp.
With the fire crackling, the group split into two teams. Xiang Yu stayed behind to guard the camp, while the others went about their tasks.
Ma Shu and Ma Ling, still haunted by their memories of the sea, volunteered to hunt in the forest behind them.
Qi Bai suspected their fears were rooted in misunderstanding. The “beasts” they described could have been caused by storm surges or even the aftereffects of a typhoon. The heavy rains they experienced days ago might have been linked to such an event at sea. When they neared the shoreline during the storm, massive waves could have swept people into the water. Orcs, unfamiliar with maritime conditions, would have struggled to regain their footing once knocked down. Another wave could easily have finished the job.
But the sea was calm now.
As long as they stayed away from the shore during high tide, there was little danger—or so Qi Bai hoped.
His knowledge was based on what he knew from Earth’s oceans. But on the Beast World Continent, where colossal creatures were a regular occurrence, Qi Bai remained cautious.
Yang Luo had generously allowed each of them to carry a wicker basket. With Foxfire now crafting baskets back in the tribe, they were no longer in short supply.
For Qi Bai, this was a small but significant relief. It meant less time worrying about logistics and more time focusing on what mattered—salt and seafood.
Qi Bai’s steps were light as he approached the shoreline, anticipation building in his chest.
The seafood feast he had dreamed of throughout the journey was finally within reach.
Qi Bai had grown up in a seaside city. As a child, he often accompanied the adults to the beach to dig for clams. At low tide, after a wave receded, clams would spit little bubbles in the wet sand beneath his feet. Back then, he thought that was a lot.
But the elders in his family told him that when they were young, the beaches were teeming with seafood. There were so many clams, crabs, and fish that people couldn’t gather them all before the sun set. Some of the catch would be left to rot on the sand because there simply wasn’t enough space to carry it all home.
Fish and shrimp near their small fishing village were so abundant—and cheap—that no one even wanted them. It was nothing like the inflated prices Qi Bai had seen at modern seaside markets, where a simple catch could cost dozens of yuan per pound.
Qi Bai had never experienced that abundance firsthand. Overfishing, pollution, and an influx of tourists had long since turned the beaches into crowded, barren stretches. By his time, there were more people on the beach than there were fish in the water.
Part of him had always doubted the elders’ stories.
But standing here, on the untouched shores of this ancient world, Qi Bai couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he was about to see what they meant.
Until today, Qi Bai finally understood what his elders had meant when they spoke of food so abundant it was left to rot on the beach.
