37: Chapter 37 Let's build it.

The roar of the Moon Beast slammed into the ground, rolling across the purple soil and making Liao Su's ears vibrate with a buzzing sound.

Liao Su couldn't distinguish directions; the shadows before his eyes overlapped—three, five, and every single one hung with three rows of hooked claws.

Only three youths of the Ulthar Cat Tribe remained by his side. Those typically arrogant Geniuses of the cat tribe now had their tails tucked almost against their bellies, ears pressed tightly against their heads, and the short blades in their hands trembled, clattering against their wrist guards.

The Whispers of the Ancient God from all directions were like maggots, burrowing into his brain through his ear canals, gnawing at his brains.

Liao Su saw his pupils dilate sharply, then suddenly shrink to pinpoints—this was a sign that his spirit was being eroded and he was about to go mad.

"Defend!"

The cat youth shouted until his voice cracked, his tone trembling.

Liao Su knew clearly in his heart that there was no running; Moon Beasts were everywhere. This purple mist was their hunting ground, and they were just livestock waiting to be slaughtered in the pen.

Two Moon Beasts pounced simultaneously, the foul-smelling wind hitting his face first. Liao Su rolled aside violently, but those sharp claws still grazed his waist.

"Riiiip."

Fabric and flesh were torn open together, blood splattering the ground. His whole body slammed hard against a protruding rock ridge, a crisp sound came from his back, his spine felt like it was about to snap in two, and his vision instantly went black.

Before he could catch his breath, the light above his head was completely blocked out.

The third Moon Beast descended from the sky, its dark shadow like a mountain, pressing straight down.

Liao Su gathered his last breath into his arm, preparing to strike this one last blow before dying; even if he died, he wanted to take one with him.

But the dark shadow in mid-air suddenly froze.

Immediately after, there was the creaking sound of bones being forcibly crushed, so crisp it set one's teeth on edge.

A deep purple Tentacle, its surface covered in fine, ring-like patterns, tightly coiled around the Moon Beast's torso. It wrapped around it three whole times, forcing its entire body to arch like a shrimp, while the other end plunged into the churning purple mist, its end unseen.

Then came the second one, the third one.

Six Tentacles erupted simultaneously from the purple mist, their movements so fast they left only afterimages. Two tail-end ones coiled around the hind legs of the two Moon Beasts on the left and right, slamming them hard against the ground, creating two deep craters in the purple soil.

Two chest-level Tentacles, like javelins, instantly pierced through the chest cavity of the Moon Beast in the middle, the sharp spikes emerging from its back, carrying pulsing organs and blood foam.

Two elbow-level Tentacles lashed out, coiling around the jawbones of the last two Moon Beasts, and twisted violently.

"Snap, snap, snap."

Five crisp sounds connected in a string, like crushing five walnuts—clean and efficient.

Liao Su didn't see the complete process. The purple mist was churned into a frenzy by the Tentacles, revealing only a moment of clarity before closing up again instantly.

The five corpses of the Moon Beasts slammed heavily onto the ground, and purple blood splattered onto Liao Su's cheeks—warm and foul-smelling.

Wu Xi walked out from the purple mist.

With every step he took, the purple mist under his feet retreated to both sides like a living creature, not daring to touch him. Wu Xi's face was expressionless as he swept his gaze over the beast corpses on the ground, just as if he were looking at a pile of rotting meat, and finally, his gaze landed on Liao Su.

"Can you stand?"

Liao Su opened his mouth. The blood from his waist had already soaked through most of his pants, flowing down his legs and pooling on the ground. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but his arms went limp, and he slammed back onto the ground. The back of his head struck a rock, and the pain made his vision go black. His life force was flowing out bit by bit from the wound on his waist.

Wu Xi walked over and crouched down. He didn't touch Liao Su immediately, first glancing at the wound—it was deep, with claw marks stretching diagonally from his waist to his back, flesh torn open, and blood still gushing out. He extended two fingers and pressed them onto the skin above the wound.

"You won't die."

Liao Su opened his mouth and first coughed up a mouthful of blood foam. He lay half-supine, looking at the purple canopy of the sky. The Whispers of the Ancient God were still drilling into his brain, but as he stared at Wu Xi's profile, he suddenly realized—this person was completely unaffected. Those voices that could drive the Geniuses of the Ulthar Cat Tribe mad had no effect on him at all.

"You... can't hear them?" Liao Su asked with a hoarse voice.

Wu Xi didn't answer. He raised his hand, tore off a piece of his own hem, and pressed it directly onto Liao Su's wound. The force was astonishingly great; Liao Su hissed on the spot, his whole body jolting upwards from the pain, his back bones hitting the rock again, and his vision went black in waves.

"Hold it down."

Wu Xi's voice had no inflection, carrying an unquestionable command.

Liao Su pressed down on the cloth with trembling hands. The blood quickly soaked through, sticky and warm.

He stared at the purple sky and suddenly spoke, his voice as light as a mosquito's buzz: "When you go back... help me tell Uncle Gray Fur."

"Tell him what?"

"Tell him... I'm sorry." Liao Su's eye twitched, and he didn't look at Wu Xi. "I shouldn't have hurt him before."

Wu Xi's hand paused for a moment.

"I just wanted to..." Liao Su's voice grew lower and lower, as if talking to himself, "The Mimei Rats are too weak, living under someone else's roof. I wanted to become strong, wanted to protect my clansmen, so I had to integrate with them, and that's why I..."

His Adam's apple moved, and he swallowed a mouthful of blood; blood foam streamed down his chin.

"Actually, I know Uncle Gray Fur is much stronger than me; he just doesn't hold it against me. In my heart... in my heart..."

Liao Su couldn't continue. Moisture slid from the corners of his eyes, mixing with the blood on his face, hitting the purple soil; it was impossible to tell if it was tears or blood.

His chest heaved violently. Every breath tugged at his wound, making him tremble all over from the pain.

Wu Xi didn't speak, applying force with his hands to bind the cloth strip tightly.

"Regarding this current illusion, do you have any way to break it?" Wu Xi suddenly asked.

"The Master of the Black Lake, Mnomquah, must have used the Cat God's sacred fork bell to amplify the power of the illusion this time," Liao Su said, every word clear. "As long as we break the fork bell, or destroy it, the illusion will definitely break."

"Where is the sacred fork bell?"

"I don't know the exact location... but we must find it; it's the only hope."

Wu Xi finished binding the cloth and tied a dead knot. He stood up and looked down at Liao Su on the ground.

Liao Su was still muttering to himself, his voice so light it was almost inaudible: "I'm just a... piece of trash."

"Shut up."

Wu Xi crouched down again, resting both hands on his knees, his face moving closer. His eyes were very black, like a bottomless abyss, without a trace of fluctuation, just staring straight at Liao Su, as if inspecting a piece of scrap iron.

"You think the Mimei Rats are weak." It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

"I..." Liao Su opened his mouth, unable to speak.

"If you think they are weak, then go build them up."

Wu Xi spoke word by word, each word like a hammer, slamming hard into Liao Su's heart.

"Use your own abilities to make the Ulthar Cats respect you. Even the high-and-mighty Cat God faces evenly matched opponents. Since you have talent, be the one to lead your tribe to stand up."

"What do you think a strong person is like?" Wu Xi stared into his eyes. "A strong person doesn't peel off their own skin to curry favor with someone stronger. It's about letting those who follow you stand tall with their backs straight."

Liao Su stared at him blankly, as if a fire had exploded in his chest. That fire burned vigorously, burning away the stone that had been stuck in his throat and pressing on his heart.

The wound still hurt, but that fire was more intense than the pain of the wound.

His fingers slowly clenched, his nails embedding into his palms again, and blood seeped out once more.

"...You're right." Liao Su's throat was still hoarse, but his voice was steady, no longer trembling. "I've always... been a fool."

"As long as you know." Wu Xi stood up straight, his tone returning to its previous indifference. "Say all this to Gray Fur yourself when you go back. Live to go back and build up your tribe."

"...Mm."

Liao Su replied, the sound very light, and he took a deep breath.

The few Ulthar Cat youths nearby walked over and bowed deeply to Wu Xi. Their tails were finally raised again, no longer in the wretched, tucked-between-legs state they were in before.

He didn't waste words, just said a word of thanks, turned around, and took the remaining two companions into the purple mist to find the Cat General and discuss a way to break the situation.

Wu Xi watched the figures disappear, bent down, passed one hand under Liao Su's armpits, and scooped up the back of his knees with the other, directly carrying him on his back.

Liao Su was very light, as if he had no weight. Wu Xi's six Tentacles had long been retracted into his body, hidden securely, with no trace beneath his skin. He adjusted his posture, letting Liao Su lie on his back, avoiding the wound so it wouldn't be pressed.

"Back to the tavern." "Mm."

Wu Xi stepped forward.

The purple mist retreated to both sides automatically under his feet. His footsteps fell on the viscous purple soil, making a slight sucking sound, each step creating a purple ripple. The Whispers of the Ancient God were still roaring crazily from all directions, but when they hit him, it was like hitting a wall of copper and iron, instantly shattering into powder, unable to even touch his eardrums.

Liao Su buried his face in Wu Xi's shoulder. The wound was still oozing blood, but he no longer wanted to die.

After walking for a while, Liao Su suddenly moved.

"Wu Xi."

"Speak."

"I will in the future..." Liao Su paused, his voice lowering, and finally gritted his teeth, "Forget it. I'll say it after I've done it."

Wu Xi didn't respond, just continued walking forward. His steps remained very steady, each step solid.

Just as they were about to reach the tavern, Wu Xi's footsteps suddenly stopped.

He stood in place, his back instantly tensing like a drawn bow. Six Tentacles writhed crazily beneath his skin, ready to strike. He turned his head, his ears twitching, catching the movement in the wind.

Liao Su heard it too. He propped himself up on Wu Xi's shoulders, raised his head, and looked towards the tavern. The purple mist there was churning exceptionally violently, as if something was rampaging inside. The vibrations of the ground were becoming increasingly clear.

"Something's wrong." Liao Su's throat instantly tightened. "Something is not right."

Wu Xi didn't speak; he resumed walking, his speed several times faster than before.

Just then, a scream came from the direction of the tavern.

Then came the second, the third, mixed with the crashing sound of furniture being overturned.

The tavern's door panel was already half shattered.

With Liao Su on his back, Wu Xi rushed through the last ten steps in a few strides, the threshold right before him. What came from inside the door wasn't human voices, but the harsh noise of claws scraping against wood, mixed with the booming sound of tables and chairs being sent flying. A table leg flew out from the door, slammed down beside Wu Xi's feet, rolled twice, and wood chips splattered everywhere.

Wu Xi didn't stop, stepping directly into the doorframe.

The tavern was in a mess.

Tables were overturned bottom-up, beer barrels were split in two. Gray Fur was leaning against the corner, a broken wooden board stuck diagonally into his stomach, his fingers covered in blood. Old Black was lying on the ground, three claw marks on his back deep enough to see bone, white flesh exposed, unmoving. Sergei and Qi Sui were huddled behind the counter, one covering his head, the other's legs trembling like a sieve.

Six Moon Beasts.

They were surrounding the center of the tavern, pinning a person under their claws—Qi Ling.

Qi Ling's face was pressed against the floor, his mouth full of blood. One Moon Beast's claw was stepping on his back, the sharp claws digging deep into his shoulder blades.

His two hands were desperately clawing at the wooden floor, his fingernails all torn off, and blood was seeping into the grain of the wood from his fingertips.

Gray Fur saw the two people at the door, his eyes lighting up for a moment before instantly dimming again. He opened his mouth, blood dripping down his chin, and shouted with all his might, "Run—"

Before the words fell, the Moon Beast stepping on Qi Ling tightened its claws violently.

Just at this moment, Wu Xi's Tentacles instantly erupted from his body.

Two tail-end ones drilled out from his pant legs like two poison-dipped whips, lashing fiercely at the nearest two Moon Beasts, instantly smashing their heads to pieces, red and white splattering everywhere. Two chest-level ones pierced through his clothing like javelins, stabbing straight into the throat of the third Moon Beast, the sharp spikes piercing directly out from the back of its neck and pinning it to the wall.

Two elbow-level ones lashed out, coiling around the neck of the fourth Moon Beast, and twisted violently with a "snap," the head falling directly to the ground and rolling far away.

The entire process took less than a second.

But in this gap of less than a second, the remaining two Moon Beasts reacted with astonishing speed.

One on the left and one on the right, they fiercely bit onto Qi Ling's two arms, their hind claws pushing hard against the ground, dragging Qi Ling as they turned and rushed towards the tavern's back door.

Qi Ling's feet dragged two deep bloody trails on the ground. He struggled desperately, but the Moon Beasts' strength was too great, and he couldn't break free at all.

His fingers clawed hard across the threshold, leaving ten deep bloody marks on the wood, and then he was forcibly dragged out of the back door, the purple mist instantly swallowing his screams.

After Wu Xi strangled the four Moon Beasts, purple blood splattered everywhere.

He looked back at the four severely injured people in the tavern, then turned to look at the back door, where the purple mist was churning crazily, like a giant mouth waiting to devour people.

"I'm going." Two words, without a shred of hesitation.

Liao Su jumped directly off his back. He stumbled when he landed, the wound on his waist bursting open on the spot, blood seeping out again, but he gritted his teeth and stood straight by sheer force of will.

"Your wound—"

"My nose is sensitive." Liao Su interrupted him directly, poking his own nose hard with his finger. "You can't find your way in the purple mist; I'll lead you."

He took two steps forward, his eyes full of ruthlessness. "Let's go."

Wu Xi looked at him and didn't waste any more words. He reached out to support Liao Su's arm, and without a moment's pause, they both rushed out of the tavern's back door, plunging headfirst into the depths of the churning purple mist.