Chapter Twenty: The Annihilation of the Serpents

Chapter Twenty

Late at night, Mei was shrouded from head to toe beneath a black cloak, swiftly running toward the entrance of the valley. The cloak blended perfectly into the darkness, and even with twice as many sentries as usual that night, no one noticed her presence.

Mei moved quickly, not slowing even as she entered the range of the Devil Vine’s attack. Strangely, the vines seemed not to notice her at all; they remained motionless. The Devil Vine was almost invincible, with its greatest ability being the detection of a living person’s vital energy. If that energy could be blocked, the Devil Vine was no longer so terrifying.

There were many ways to block vital energy, and the cloak she wore was one of them. It appeared ordinary, but the fabric was inscribed with countless hidden magical patterns, serving more than just the purpose of concealing her life force. Cloaks like this one were rare even in her original world—fewer than ten could be found. After all, it had been designed by Savitran and Dilo together; it was not something just anyone could obtain.

Safely passing through the mouth of the valley, Mei glanced back at the Devil Vine. She knew what she sought grew at its roots, but those roots were buried deep underground, making them difficult to find. For now, she needed first to check whether Mo Chen, Yang Hao, and the others were safe; once she had delivered her message, she would have time to search for her prize.

The valley was long and narrow, so Mei continued forward, confident she would eventually encounter them. The valley was thick with trees, all immense and tangled, their branches lush, roots gnarled and interwoven. For most, these trees only made travel more arduous, but for Mei, they were a delight.

She leaped nimbly from branch to branch, vanishing quickly into the depths of the forest. Nearly two hours passed before she heard faint gunfire and the sounds of supernatural powers being unleashed. She quickened her pace.

Soon she arrived at a clearing in the woods. At its center, five enormous pythons, each as thick as a barrel, had surrounded a group of people. Mo Chen, Yang Hao, and the others held torches, locked in combat with a sixth python just as massive.

Seeing that they could still hold out, Mei didn’t rush to help—her current strength could not take on six giant pythons at once. She observed carefully and found the leader among them: a beautiful serpent with silver and gold scales, slightly smaller than the other five.

Mei thought for a moment, then swiftly drew her bow—not an arrow, but a long, white shaft formed from concentrated light magic in her palm. Like a falling star, it shot through the night, not at the leader but at the python entangled with the group.

The white arrow descended from above, striking precisely at the python’s vital spot, pinning it to the ground. After a brief struggle, it lay still.

Everyone paused, stunned by the sudden intervention. The serpent that had caused such heavy losses was dead—just like that!

All eyes were fixed on the lifeless snake, minds echoing only those two thoughts.

The five remaining pythons seemed equally shocked, quickly unwinding and preparing to attack. At that moment, a black-clad figure leapt onto the dead python’s head, bow in hand, with a white arrow aimed straight at the leader.

“Withdraw, or die!” Mei’s arrow locked firmly onto the leader, her intent transmitted through her mental power.

The leader seemed to recognize the threat—the arrow was identical to the one that had felled its companion. It froze. The other four quickly gathered around it, as if to shield it.

The leader shifted uneasily, unable to shake the sense of danger. It coiled up once more, fixing its purple-black tongue on Mei.

Everyone watched in silence as the petite figure in the black cloak faced off against the five ferocious pythons. No one dared make a sound—not even to breathe—fearing to break the tense calm and provoke another attack.

They truly could not hold out any longer. Since afternoon, they’d been locked in battle with the pythons, losing nearly half their number before finally dispatching one. But before they could recover, another giant python appeared.

This python did not kill them outright; instead, it toyed with them, herding them onward like a cat with mice. By the time they realized the trap, it was too late—they were surrounded by the other five pythons.

Despair was rampant. Only a handful kept up the struggle, refusing to give in; otherwise, it was uncertain whether any would have survived for Mei to rescue.

Mei held her bow steady, arrow pointed at the python. One girl, one snake, frozen in stalemate for nearly ten minutes. Then, the leader moved.

Slowly, it uncoiled, leading the other four back toward the forest.

Once the snakes retreated far enough, the danger passed, and Mei could no longer hold herself upright. She collapsed.

Mo Chen, Yang Hao, and the others who knew Mei saw the threat had passed and started to greet her, but just as they stepped forward, she swayed and fell to the ground. Alarm swept through their hearts.

If something happened to her, what would they do? Would the snakes come back for them?

“Mei, are you alright?”

Mo Chen was the quickest. He rushed forward, lifting her gently to check her condition. Beneath her hood, Mei’s pale, sweat-drenched face was drawn with pain. She curled up, clutching her right arm, and blood seeped slowly through her fingers.

Mei did not speak, gritting her teeth against the agony—her right arm felt as if the bones and tendons had snapped. It took a long moment for her to steady herself.

“Ah Chen, my hand hurts so much!” She opened her eyes, misty and pleading, looking at the man holding her. Mei’s voice was full of grievance.

She truly felt wronged.

She shouldn’t have had to endure this ordeal at all!

Though the backlash was due to her lack of power, she never needed to confront those monsters head-on. If not for a few in the group whom she found acceptable—and because this mission had led her to clues about what she sought—she wouldn’t have bothered with their fate.

“I’ll bandage it for you. It won’t hurt so much soon.” Mo Chen soothed her awkwardly, ignoring the crowd. He pulled a medical kit from his space artifact, bandaging Mei’s hand and checking her arm.

At once, he realized the situation was dire. Mei’s entire right arm was limp, utterly powerless; even a gentle touch made her wince. Her fingers were cut to the bone by the bowstring. He could only use the best medicine to stop the bleeding and wrap the wound, uncertain what to do about her arm.

Yang Hao, seeing he couldn’t help, assigned the others to clean up, build a fire, and boil water, so the exhausted group could relax.

Mo Chen, no longer concealing his spatial abilities, took out a box of milk, heated it, and handed it to Mei.

After a few sips, the pain eased, and color returned faintly to her face.

“Are you feeling better?” Mo Chen watched her closely.

“Yes, a bit. But my right hand won’t be any use for a while. Luckily I scared the snakes off, or we’d all have been finished here today.” Mei tried to move her powerless hand and pouted.

“You knew it was dangerous and came anyway. How foolish!” he scolded, but when he saw her in the midst of crisis, warmth, gratitude, relief, and worry flooded his heart. In that moment, he silently vowed: if he survived, he would be her most reliable companion, give her all his trust, and never betray her.

“If I hadn’t come, who knows if you’d see tomorrow’s sunrise? But tell me, how did you provoke those monsters? Why are they hunting you so relentlessly?”

From the leader’s shrewd behavior, it was clear the serpent had gained intelligence. Creatures with intelligence rarely slaughter without cause unless directly provoked. What had they done to earn such relentless enmity?

“This morning we found a cave,” Mo Chen explained as he sat beside her, sipping water. “Inside were many eggs, each as big as a piglet. Later we noticed snake tracks and left quickly.”

“We would have avoided the snakes, except before we left, a few insisted on smashing the eggs. You saw the result.”

Mei was speechless. No wonder the snakes pursued them so bitterly. For any species, the continuation of offspring is paramount. Destroying their eggs ensured a fight to the death.

But she sensed something more. “It can’t be just that. Someone must have done something else, or the snakes would have devoured you all at once. Is it possible someone took something from the cave? The snakes are surrounding you, clearly to prevent escape rather than killing you outright—they must have some concern. What are they worried about?”

Mei analyzed the situation aloud.

Now that things were calmer, the answer was obvious.

Everyone began glancing at one another, searching for the culprit, but no one’s reaction seemed suspicious.

“Let’s be clear. Anyone who took something, step forward,” Yang Hao demanded.

Still, no one confessed.

Mei scoffed, leaning into Mo Chen’s arms. “Doesn’t matter if you don’t know. I can’t shoot arrows now, but I can still take Ah Chen and leave. By morning, those snakes will be back. You’d better escape tonight—if anyone can outrun them. By the way, in case you didn’t know, snakes have an exceptionally keen sense of smell, especially for anything bearing their scent.”

Her words were casual but laced with malice.

As she finished speaking, someone suddenly stood, seized a short man from the crowd by the collar, and tossed him forward.

Mei didn’t look at the one thrown, but at the thrower instead.

“Brother Ye, you joined the mission too? Why didn’t Brother Jie mention it?” Mei asked in surprise, adding another familiar name to her mental list.

Ye Jingxuan’s expression was unreadable. He nodded to Mei, his voice flat. “It was a last-minute decision.”

He turned to the man he’d tossed and said coldly, “Hand it over.”