Cold Moon Witch, sword in hand, stepped steadily toward the kneeling immortal crane. Players in the livestream held their breath, eyes fixed intently on her retreating figure.

Her earlier clash with Gongsun Ding, chief inner sect disciple of Qian Niao City, had already left them utterly stunned—and she hadn’t even seemed to exert her full strength. Gongsun Ding had been sent flying, vomiting blood as he fled into the distance, yet Cold Moon Witch remained as ice-cold and unreadable as ever, her eyes sharp as frost, showing no sign of relaxation despite her enemy’s retreat.

At that moment, the merchant streamer on-site and other nearby players in the caravan simultaneously received multiple system alerts:

“Warning: Cold Moon Witch is still in combat mode. Do not approach recklessly!”  
“Warning: Cold Moon Witch is still in combat mode. Do not approach recklessly!”  
“…”

Sweat instantly beaded on the streamer’s forehead.  
He knew she was formidable—but he hadn’t expected her to be so powerful that the system itself warned players away.

After all, the game had only been live for a little over a month. Who among the players would dare challenge an NPC this terrifying? That would be pure suicide.

“I heard immortal cranes only come from the Crane Garden within Qian Niao City—they’re unique to the city, and there aren’t many of them to begin with. Qian Niao only deploys these sacred beasts during major emergencies.”

“And yet Gongsun Ding just abandoned one… It’s like throwing prey to a hungry wolf! With Gongsun gone, is Cold Moon Witch going to take it out on the poor crane?”

“Who knows? Bosses like her—lone-wolf, villainous NPCs—are unpredictable. She might do anything.”

“Look how its thin, spindly legs are trembling… The poor thing’s terrified of her!”

“Don’t kill it! Please, Cold Moon Witch, spare it!”

Seeing the crane’s pitiful state, many female players’ hearts melted, and their comments flooded the livestream with pleas.

“Too bad Cold Moon Witch can’t see the livestream. Your prayers are wasted.”

“The eternal struggle between good and evil has existed since Pangu split the heavens and the earth. Life-or-death battles are the natural order. Even if she kills the crane right now, it wouldn’t be surprising.”

“I wish Cold Moon Witch would found her own sect. I’d join her in a heartbeat—call her Master with tears in my eyes!”

“Hah! You just want to flirt with her, don’t you? Dream on. She’s a villainous NPC boss. If you, a mere player, even think about making moves on her, she’ll slash you down to level zero and bury you so deep you’ll never recover.”

As the chat veered off-topic, all eyes snapped back to the screen when Cold Moon Witch reached the crane’s massive head. Everyone held their breath.

What would she do?

If she didn’t kill it—would she try to tame it?

Legend said immortal cranes, though timid, were fiercely loyal to Qian Niao City. They would rather die than serve another master.

But the next moment left every viewer in utter disbelief.

Cold Moon Witch extended a pale finger and gently traced the crane’s head. Instantly, the crane shot upright, its entire body convulsing violently.

In under ten seconds, its once-pristine white plumage darkened as if soaked in ink, turning pitch black. Its form mutated dramatically: its wings broadened, its slender legs thickened like those of an eagle, now armored with dense, scaled plating.

When the transformation stabilized, the crane threw back its head and let out a thunderous cry. The sonic blast radiated outward like the shockwave of a miniature nuclear explosion, sending onlookers tumbling head over heels like ragdolls.

“Holy crap!”  
“Holy crap!”

The chat exploded with “Holy crap!”

“What the hell was that?! Cold Moon Witch can transform sacred beasts?! Absolutely insane!”

“My worldview is shattered—again. Seriously, in all my years gaming, I’ve never seen an NPC boss this unique.”

“I can’t wait to level up just so I can fight her once. That’d be unforgettable.”

“Don’t be dumb. She’ll reduce you to dust before you even swing.”

“Stop yapping! Tell the streamer to zoom in on the beast’s head! Check if the system gives us its name—it’s gotta be Cold Moon Witch’s signature mount!”

“Yeah! Streamer, get closer! You’re just a merchant—low-level anyway—losing a couple levels won’t kill you!”

The merchant streamer grimaced, crawling forward inch by inch toward the still-screaming transformed beast.

Cold Moon Witch had already been lifted onto its back by the creature’s own wings—ready to take flight at any moment.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Its wings began to beat slowly, whipping the surrounding trees into chaos. Leaves, grass, and dust swirled into miniature whirlwinds in the air.

Just as the newly transformed crane launched skyward, the streamer finally got a clear enough shot for the system to analyze.

*Ding ding ding…*

“This creature is named Darkwing Crane. Level 50. Formed when a Qian Niao City Immortal Crane undergoes the Dark Baptism. Currently, it is the only one of its kind in the 'Path of Tao' world and serves exclusively as Cold Moon Witch’s mount.”

The analysis appeared instantly in the livestream.

Players were speechless.

“Dark Baptism? Just the name sounds badass! Qian Niao City’s unique sacred beast—just handed over like that to become Cold Moon Witch’s personal mount? If I were from Qian Niao, I’d be absolutely humiliated.”

“Totally! They’ve lost both the battle and their dignity. I wonder how Gongsun Ding’s going to explain this when he gets back—bet he’ll lose his title as chief disciple.”

“Forget it, guys. I’m an outer sect disciple of Qian Niao. Not long ago, Cold Moon Witch killed me and sent me back to spawn. I thought our inner sect disciples would avenge us—but our so-called ‘chief’ got chopped down like cabbage and fled! Our sect’s reputation is ruined.”

“Haha, thanks to you guys from Qian Niao, we discovered this hidden boss! I’m seriously considering watching every Cold Moon Witch livestream 24/7—it’s addictive!”

“Same here! Haven’t you noticed? Ever since she showed up, what used to be a boring livestream channel has become the most-watched in the entire game. Everyone originally came to watch that ‘leveling maniac’—but now? Hah! He’s been completely forgotten.”

Meanwhile, oblivious to the frenzy unfolding in the livestream, Lin Nan sat dazed on the Darkwing Crane’s back, which felt as soft and warm as a heated carpet.

She hadn’t actually done anything. The moment her finger touched the crane’s head, a system prompt had simply appeared:

“The Immortal Crane wishes to pledge loyalty to you. Do you accept it as your mount?”

She figured having a crane for transport wouldn’t be bad—especially if Qian Niao’s forces pursued her again. With a mount, she could escape smoothly. So she clicked “Accept.”

But the very next second, the ethereal, luminous beast underwent a drastic metamorphosis: all its white feathers vanished, replaced by dark, glossy plumage, and even its spindly legs transformed into thick, powerful “chicken drumsticks.”

What… the actual hell?

But there was no turning back now. Lin Nan sighed inwardly.

Well, at least the transformation looked super cool—and the new form definitely radiated more power than before. It fit her current “villainess” persona pretty well.

“Let’s go,” she said softly, patting the crane’s side.

Though her voice was quiet, the Darkwing Crane responded instantly, as if reading her mind, and soared into the sky.

Where to now?

Lin Nan glanced toward the floating silhouette of Qian Niao City in the distance—then deliberately pointed in the opposite direction.

She wasn’t so arrogant as to think defeating one inner sect disciple made her invincible. She knew her limits all too well.

Before Qian Niao’s inevitable reinforcements arrived, she needed to find a secluded place to log out and contact the game company about this mess.

The Darkwing Crane obeyed her direction, flying steadily ahead.

After crossing vast stretches of farmland, a sea of forested mountains finally emerged on the horizon.

“Land here,” Lin Nan commanded.

The crane let out a resonant cry, flapped its wings powerfully, and descended onto a sparsely wooded hillside.

From this vantage point, Lin Nan scanned her surroundings—nothing but endless forest in every direction, no signs of human presence.

Perfect. Hopefully, no one would disturb her before she could log out.

The Darkwing Crane settled down beside her obediently.

Leaning against its smooth, warm feathers felt like resting on a plush cushion. After the intense battle, exhaustion washed over her. Before she knew it, she drifted into a deep sleep.

She didn’t know how long she’d slept—but when she awoke, the sun was nearly swallowed by the horizon, twilight descending fast.

Panicked, Lin Nan immediately checked her system interface.

Damn it! She’d already exceeded the game’s eight-hour play limit—so why hadn’t her real-world pod forcibly logged her out?

How was she supposed to file a complaint with the game company if she couldn’t even exit the game?!

What the hell was wrong with this broken system? Why couldn’t she log out?!

“Aaaargh!”

“Cold Points –10.”

At this point, Lin Nan had completely lost control of her emotions. “Screw your Cold Points! System, show yourself! What’s going on? Why can’t I leave the game?!”

“Cold Points –10.”  
“Cold Points –10.”  
“…”

“Since you successfully completed the quest ‘Survive the Pursuit by Qian Niao City’s Inner Sect Disciple,’ your base Cold Points are now 10. Your current Cold Points: 10.”

Great. All her accumulated Cold Points had vanished—leaving only the base 10.