The Rich Cultivator-Chapter 316. To the Dark Horizon

The peaceful village, once a place of eerie stillness, was now bustling with activity. Men and women hurried about, gathering supplies, reinforcing homes, and ensuring that every last trace of warmth was preserved. The bitter cold of winter was fast approaching, and everyone seemed determined to prepare.

But inside Catherine’s house, a small group was focused on something far more important than the changing seasons.

A faint golden glow lingered in the air, fading as the last of the Silver Honey Hard Candies dissolved on the tongue of an elderly man. His eyes, once clouded with confusion, cleared, and realization dawned upon him. Another Grandmaster, who had been trapped in the village’s curse, had finally regained his memories.

Tyler exhaled, rubbing his temple as he leaned against the wooden wall. "So that makes five... I didn’t expect that the others had already died three times and lost their souls completely." His voice was low, tinged with exhaustion.

Of the many who had been ensnared by the village’s curse, only five had been saved. The rest—powerful grandmasters, who are capable of ruling an organisation in South—had perished, their souls consumed by the village and become complete illusion.

One of the Grandmasters placed a reassuring hand on Tyler’s shoulder. "It’s alright. This is the Abyss. We already expected death."

That did little to ease the weight in Tyler’s heart, but he nodded anyway.

Another Grandmaster, still in awe of his restored clarity, turned to Mathilda with curiosity. "How did you make this... Silver Honey Hard Candy?"

Mathilda puffed out her chest proudly. "Hah! Simple alchemy stuff. I just concentrated the honey more and amplified its effects fivefold." She smirked. "Nothing too complicated."

The Grandmaster chuckled. "Simple, Madam says. You make it sound like it wasn’t a miracle."

Mathilda grinned, clearly pleased with herself.

Tyler, however, was done waiting. He straightened and clapped his hands once. "Since we’ve got everyone, let’s go."

No one argued. They had lingered in the cursed village long enough.

A small group departed from the village that day—Tyler, Mathilda, Astrid, Mana, Misra, and the five rescued Grandmasters.

Snow had already begun to fall, the first signs of winter blanketing the streets and rooftops in a thin, powdery white. The once-familiar warmth of the village was fading, replaced by an unsettling chill.

Tyler pulled out a small, compass from his coat. It trembled in his palm, the needle jerking toward the north.

He frowned. "The compass is pointing north... That’s north, right?" He glanced at the sun to confirm.

The others nodded.

Misra’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "The Dark Horizon."

A heavy silence settled over the group.

Tyler had heard of the Dark Horizon before- atleast everyone has heard of it when they lost the memories. It was a place that few dared to approach. The Ancestors of this village lost their minds after seeing whatever that is inside. If the compass was leading them there, then their passage to another Floor must be somewhere within its depths.

Without hesitation, they pressed forward.

The snow intensified as they walked, falling in thick, heavy flakes. The cold gnawed at their skin, even through they are at master and Grandmaster level. The wind howled around them, carrying with it an eerie whisper, as though the land itself resented their intrusion.

Astrid pulled her cloak tighter around herself. "Will we encounter a Frost Silver Wolf?" she asked.

Misra didn’t even hesitate. "No."

Astrid exhaled in relief—only for Misra to continue.

"We might not encounter just one," she said calmly. "But the whole pack."

Astrid’s breath hitched.

Tyler sighed, already pulling out weapons from his storage device. He retrieved his trident, its once bright radiance now tainted with an abyssal black sheen. He could still feel its power, but something about it had undeniably changed.

He handed out weapons to the others, knowing they couldn’t afford to face whatever lurked ahead unarmed.

One of the Grandmasters frowned as he accepted a sword from Tyler. "It’s unfortunate... We couldn’t retrieve our weapons because the mist in the well deepened." His grip tightened on the hilt, "But even without our powers, we can still handle the wolves I guess."

Tyler nodded grimly. They had taken the risk of diving into the well, hoping to recover their lost equipment—but the abyssal mist had grown stronger, devouring everything it touched.

Misra adjusted the straps on her dagger holster. "The village must have noticed something. But it won’t be able to influence much than that."

Still, they all felt an invisible weight pressing down on them, as though unseen eyes were watching from the swirling snow.

They walked for what felt like hours, their boots crunching against the frost-covered ground. With each step, the mist thickened, curling around their legs like phantom fingers.

Then, without warning, the howling wind ceased.

Tyler stopped. "Not again."

Misra’s eyes narrowed. "They’re here."

A single growl echoed through the air, low and guttural.

Then another.

And another.

Shadows moved in the mist, barely visible, but their glowing silver eyes betrayed their presence.

Frost Silver Wolves.

Dozens of them.

Tyler raised his trident, its abyss-tainted trident glinting darkly. "Stay close."

The wolves didn’t attack immediately. They circled, their breaths forming white clouds in the frigid air. They were intelligent creatures—hunters that knew when to strike.

"I didn’t see the one I saw before." Tyler said.

"That one is Probably got seperated from the Pack." Mathilda said.

"Can we really handle it?" Misra asked.

"Can you change into that form and kill them all?" Mathilda asked.

"I can take two ..." Misra replied.

"In a fight, right?" Mathilda asked.

One of the wolves suddenly collapsed, impaled by a trident that had pierced clean through its neck. Blood pooled beneath its twitching body as its life faded.

"Huh?"

Everyone—both humans and wolves—froze in shock, turning to look at Tyler. He was still gripping his trident, yet the weapon that had slain the wolf was its manifested projection.

Tyler sighed in relief. "Looks like the trident’s ability is still working."

That moment of surprise quickly passed. The remaining wolves let out furious howls, their silver eyes glowing with rage as they lunged at the group.

Misra’s body flickered, her form shifting as tendrils of darkness spread across her limbs. Half of her figure took on an abyssal appearance before she vanished into the mist. A second later, two wolves yelped as she dragged them into the shadows. Their howls were cut short.

The five Grandmasters each engaged a wolf, their weapons flashing in the pale light. Steel clashed against fangs as they fought in synchronized precision, their battle experience evident in every movement.

Mathilda, standing near Astrid, pulled out a small vial of liquid from her pouch. Without hesitation, she hurled it at an approaching wolf. The glass shattered against its thick fur, and an eerie sizzling sound followed as its skin began to melt like wax under the acid. The wolf howled in agony, staggering backward.

Astrid raised her hands, divine energy crackling around her fingers. With a flick of her wrist, she sent a burst of holy light surging forward, burning away the mist and forcing the wolves to recoil.

Meanwhile, Tyler reached into his storage device, pulling out several charms. He activated one, but the moment it touched the outside air, it corroded instantly, dissolving into nothing.

"Tch... the charms are not Anti-Abyss Coated." Tyler cursed under his breath.

Still, he didn’t hesitate. If charms wouldn’t work, then brute force would. Tightening his grip, he threw his trident with sheer strength. The weapon blurred through the air, impaling another wolf.

Far away, near a riverbank, a massive wolf lay curled up, its fur marked by a deep scar across one eye. It had remained still, seemingly asleep—until a strange, blue mist drifted toward it. The mist slithered into its nose, and in an instant, the wolf’s body convulsed.

Its eyes snapped open. It tried to howl—but no sound emerged. Instead, its body trembled as it rapidly grew in size. Its fur darkened, twisting as abyssal energy pulsed through its veins.

The once-sleeping wolf had transformed. Half of its body had taken on an abyssal form, its shape monstrous and unrecognizable.

It didn’t howl. It didn’t hesitate.

With terrifying speed, it turned toward the direction of Tyler and the others. Then, with a single bound, it charged forward, destroying everything in its path. Trees splintered and crashed to the ground as the monstrous beast closed the distance.

Tyler and the others had no idea what was coming.