46: Chapter 46 Dark River Python

When the black shadow lunged out of the water, Han Meng froze completely.

The thing was too fast—so fast that he didn't even have time to think about dodging.

All he saw was a gaping maw, filled with fangs, snapping down toward his head. A foul, fishy stench assaulted his nose, so strong it made it impossible for him to even open his eyes.

"Bang!"

A muffled sound rang out.

Han Meng was sent flying by a massive force, rolling twice on the ground before crashing into the stone wall and coming to a stop.

He scrambled up, dizzy and disoriented, and looked closely—

Lu Zhao was standing in the spot where he had just been, his hands bracing the creature's neck. He was in a bow stance, his muscles tensed and veins bulging.

The thing was a python.

Its body was as thick as a water barrel, grayish-black all over, and its scales shimmered with an eerie light.

Its head was the size of a washbasin, and its two eyes glowed with a ghostly green light in the darkness. Inside its gaping maw were four fangs, each three inches long and gleaming with a cold light.

Right now, its maw was being held open by Lu Zhao's hands, its upper and lower jaws less than a foot from his face.

The python's body writhed frantically, its tail sweeping horizontally and striking the stone wall with a "thwack," sending stone fragments flying.

"What are you still standing there for!" Lu Zhao roared. "Attack!"

Han Meng finally snapped out of it, grabbed the steel-reinforced saber that had fallen on the ground, and rushed forward to slash at it.

The python's tail swept over and struck him squarely in the chest!

"Bang!"

Han Meng was sent flying again, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He slid down the stone wall and couldn't get up for a long time.

He Shan drew his bow and nocked an arrow, firing three shots in rapid succession!

"Swish! Swish! Swish!"

The three feathered arrows flew in a triangular Formation, aiming straight for the python's eyes.

The python tilted its head, and two arrows struck its scales, sparking and leaving only two white marks.

The third arrow grazed the corner of its eye, drawing a string of blood beads—the area around its eye was a spot where its scales didn't cover.

The python, in pain, went berserk.

It violently threw off Lu Zhao, its body coiled, then suddenly surged forward, slamming toward the nearest person, Shen Qingqiu!

Shen Qingqiu took half a step back, and a yellow light flew from her sleeve—a Phantom Sound Talisman!

"Boom!"

An ear-piercing explosion erupted in the cave, making everyone's eardrums ache.

The python was stunned by the loud noise, and its attack slowed for a split second.

That was all it took.

Uncle Ya moved.

He had been standing to the side the whole time, motionless like a wooden stake.

But his eyes had been locked onto the python's vital spot, watching its every twist and contraction.

The moment the python was startled by the Phantom Sound Talisman, Uncle Ya struck.

He held a short spear in each hand—they were iron rods he had improvised and sharpened just before entering the mine, the tips ground to a bright shine—and he shot out like an arrow released from a bow, skimming across the ground!

The python sensed something was wrong and turned its head to bite.

It was too late.

Uncle Ya leaped up, and his left-hand spear pierced fiercely into the python's left eye!

"Squish!"

The spearhead sank into flesh, and black blood splattered.

The python danced in agony, and Uncle Ya used the momentum to swing himself onto its back.

He swung his right-hand spear in a full arc, aiming it at the python's vital spot, and drove it down hard!

"Squelch!"

The two-foot-long iron rod was buried to the hilt.

The python's body went rigid, stiffened for an instant, and then began to roll frantically.

Uncle Ya was thrown off; he rolled upon landing to dissipate the force, then scrambled up and ran.

The python chased him for three zhang before its body suddenly went limp, and it collapsed to the ground.

It struggled, trying to get back up, its tail twitching and lashing the ground, sending stone fragments flying everywhere.

But from the wound at its vital spot, black blood gushed out, unable to be stopped.

After struggling for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, it finally stopped moving.

The cave was deathly silent.

There was only the sound of heavy breathing, and the occasional "thwack" of the python twitching.

A-Fei leaned against the stone wall, his legs weak, and sat down on the ground with a thud.

Shen Qingqiu's face was deathly pale as she stared at the python's carcass, unable to speak for a long time.

Han Meng leaned against the stone wall, clutching his chest, coughing twice and spitting out a mouthful of bloody foam.

He looked down and gave a wry smile: "My ribs... two are broken."

Lu Zhao walked over, crouched down, and felt his chest, letting out a sigh of relief: "It didn't puncture your lungs. Stay lying down and don't move."

He stood up and walked over to Uncle Ya.

Uncle Ya was squatting on the ground, gasping for air.

His hands were shaking violently, the webs of his thumbs were split, and blood was dripping down his wrists.

The two iron rods were still stuck in the python's body; he had gripped them so tightly that he had rubbed a layer of skin off his palms.

Lu Zhao crouched down, took his hands, and channeled a wisp of True Qi into him.

As the True Qi entered his body, Uncle Ya shivered and looked up at him.

In his eyes, there was exhaustion, relief, and a hint of pride—as if to say, I've still got it, right?

Lu Zhao smiled.

"You do," he said. "You've really still got it."

After resting for half an hour, everyone caught their breath.

He Shan lit a fire starter and leaned in close to the python carcass to examine it carefully.

The python was nearly two zhang long, as thick as a water barrel, and weighed at least five or six hundred catties.

Its scales were the size of a palm, jet-black and shiny, with edges as sharp as razor blades.

"What kind of python is this?" he muttered. "I've been hunting for twenty years and have never seen one this big."

Shen Qingqiu walked over, crouched down to look at the python's head, and said: "It must be a mutated beast. It has lived in this dark river for years, consuming underground creatures, and slowly grew into this."

"Look at its eyes—they can emit light, which means it can see in the dark."

"Its scales are so thick that ordinary blades and swords cannot cut them."

She pointed to the four fangs.

"These fangs are poisonous. If you're bitten, the poison enters your Bloodline, and it can take your life in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea."

A-Fei shivered and shrank back.

Lu Zhao took out his steel-reinforced saber, crouched down, and began skinning the python.

The blade was sharp, but the python skin was tough, making it difficult to cut.

He started cutting from the wound, following the gaps between the scales, slicing forward bit by bit.

After slicing for half an hour, he finally peeled off a piece of python skin three feet square.

"What can this skin be used for?" he asked.

Shen Qingqiu said: "It can be made into armor. Once tanned, it's tougher than iron armor, yet lightweight. If combined with a Formation, even ordinary Flying Swords wouldn't be able to pierce it."

Lu Zhao nodded and continued skinning.

After another hour of skinning, he finally peeled off five or six complete pieces of python skin, along with several scale-bearing fragments.

He rolled up the python skin, tied it with rope, and handed it to He Shan to carry.

Then he slit open the python's belly and removed the gallbladder.

The gallbladder was the size of a fist, dark green, and cool to the touch.

He handed it to Shen Qingqiu: "Can this be used?"

Shen Qingqiu took it, brought it to her nose to smell it, and nodded: "Good stuff. It can detoxify, improve eyesight, and clear the mind; it works for Alchemy and as medicine."

Lu Zhao also chopped off the four fangs, gouged out the two eyes, and wrapped them all up.

Just as he was packing up, his mind suddenly cleared.

[Killed low-level mutated beast: Dark River Water Python. Civilization Points +15.]

[Current Civilization Points: 200.]

Lu Zhao was stunned for a moment, then laughed.

This thing really doesn't miss any opportunity.

Han Meng lay there, watching Lu Zhao work, and suddenly said: "Sir, do you think this thing... was guarding this place specifically?"

Lu Zhao didn't stop working: "Most likely."

"Guarding what?"

Lu Zhao didn't answer, only looked toward the stone door.

The Gate of Buried Martial.

Han Meng followed his gaze and swallowed hard: "You mean... it was guarding this gate?"

Lu Zhao nodded.

Han Meng fell silent.

After a while, he suddenly said: "Then... are we still going in?"

Lu Zhao didn't speak, just continued cleaning up the python carcass.

After finishing, he stood up and walked over to Uncle Ya.

Uncle Ya was still panting, but his hands had stopped shaking.

He looked up at Lu Zhao, his eyes asking—can we go?

Lu Zhao said: "We can go."

He turned to look at the group.

"Han Meng, stay here and rest. Everyone else, follow me inside."

Han Meng was anxious: "Sir! I..."

Lu Zhao interrupted him: "Your ribs are broken; you'll just be a burden if you go in. Stay here and keep watch. If we don't come out in three days, return the way you came and tell Yan Meng—don't come looking."

Han Meng opened his mouth but couldn't say anything.

Shen Qingqiu walked to his side, crouched down, and stuffed two talismans into his embrace.

"A Phantom Sound Talisman and a protective talisman. If that mountain demon comes down, detonate the Phantom Sound Talisman to scare it. If it really dares to come over, activate the protective talisman; it can block it for a bit."

Han Meng clutched the two talismans, his eyes reddening.

"You... must come back alive."

Uncle Ya walked over, patted his shoulder, and grinned.

In that smile, there was a promise and a farewell.

The five of them walked to the stone door.

The stone door was about three zhang high, pitch black, and made of unknown stone material.

The door was covered with patterns, dense and layered.

The most eye-catching were the two large ancient seal characters in the center—Buried Martial.

Shen Qingqiu stared at the two characters, muttering: "Buried Martial... burying the Martial Dao... what does this mean?"

Lu Zhao didn't speak, just reached out to push the door.

The stone door didn't budge.

He pushed again, but it still didn't move.

Uncle Ya walked up and crouched to look at the bottom of the door.

There was a gap at the bottom of the door, about half an inch wide, and he could see it was pitch black inside, with wind blowing out.

He lay down, pressed his ear to the ground to listen, then suddenly stood up and pointed to the pattern on the lintel.

Everyone looked up.

In the center of the lintel was carved a palm print.

The palm print had distinct fingers and clear lines, a size larger than a normal person's hand.

Around the palm print were dense, intricate patterns that looked like a diagram of Meridians or perhaps runes.

Shen Qingqiu looked for a while, then suddenly said: "This is... a Qi and Blood sensing door?"

"What?"

She pointed to the palm print: "Ancient texts record that some ancient cultivation ruins have Qi and Blood sensing Restrictions. Only those whose Qi and Blood reach a certain intensity can open them. If destroyed by force, the Restriction will trigger a self-destruct mechanism, destroying everything inside the ruins."

Lu Zhao stared at the palm print, silent for a moment, then slowly raised his right hand.

He pressed his palm onto the print.

The palm print was cold, the stone texture rough, hurting his palm.

He took a deep breath, channeled the Nine Yang Divine Skill, and drove his Qi and Blood to the extreme.

His palm gradually heated up.

The palm print suddenly lit up.

First, a faint red light spread from the center of the palm print, following the patterns, extending outward bit by bit.

Like blood vessels, like tree roots, it crawled all over the lintel.

The red light grew brighter and brighter, shining so brightly that everyone couldn't open their eyes.

"Rumble—"

The stone door slid open inward slowly.

A cold, chilling wind blew out from inside, carrying a strong, musty smell, mixed with an indescribable, strange aura—like rust, and like the fishy stench of rotting bones.

It was exactly the same smell as when the stone pillar cracked.

Lu Zhao withdrew his hand, looking at the pitch-black passage behind the door.

The passage was very deep, and the end could not be seen.

On both sides, one could vaguely see stone walls, and it seemed something was carved on them.

He took a deep breath.

"Let's go."

The five of them stepped into the stone door.

Behind them, the stone door slowly closed, emitting a muffled rumbling sound.

"Boom!"

The moment the door closed, all the light disappeared.

Darkness surged in like a tide, swallowing everything.

He Shan lit the fire starter, its faint light barely illuminating three feet around them.

Everyone stuck to the stone wall, slowly feeling their way forward.

After walking about thirty steps, the area ahead suddenly opened up.

It was another stone chamber.

But this stone chamber was different from all the previous ones.

The stone chamber was square, about ten zhang long and wide, and about three zhang high.

The four walls were smooth as a mirror, polished neatly, as if carved out by a Sharp Weapon.

In the center of the stone chamber sat a skeleton in a cross-legged position.

The skeleton wore tattered, wide robes, its head hung low, and its hands were folded on its knees.

Beside it was stuck a long sword; the blade was rusted, but the gemstone inlaid on the hilt was still emitting a faint, ghostly glow in the darkness.

Shen Qingqiu stared at the skeleton, her expression gradually changing.

She slowly walked forward, knelt before the skeleton, tremblingly reached out, and gently brushed aside the robe at its chest.

Under the robe, a token was revealed.

A pitch-black token, the size of a palm, carved with cloud patterns, with a character on the back—Cang.

It was exactly the same as the fragment Uncle Ya had found.

A complete token of the Canglan Sword Sect Disciplinary Hall.

Shen Qingqiu stared at the token, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Father..."

Shen Qingqiu knelt before the skeleton, sobbing uncontrollably.

Lu Zhao walked over, about to speak, when he suddenly heard an extremely faint sound—

"Hiss... hiss..."

It came from behind the skeleton.

He looked up sharply.

On the stone wall behind the skeleton, at some unknown point, a crack had opened.

Inside the crack, something was wriggling.

The thing slowly, slowly, poked its head out from the crack.

It was an eye.

A huge eye, larger than a fist, with a vertical pupil, glowing with ghostly green light.

It stared at Shen Qingqiu, at Lu Zhao, at everyone present.

Then, it blinked.