Chương 27: The Serpent's Heart Basin

Greed, Li Yu knew, was a more potent poison than any venom in the Whispering Fen. It was a fog that clouded judgment, a mire that swallowed reason. He watched as Jian Long, his eyes gleaming with ambition, rallied his followers with promises of the immense wealth and prestige that the core of a Rank 4 Fierce Beast would bring. The fear that had gripped the disciples in the clearing was burned away by the fire of avarice.

Only Su Ling and some others remained apart, her expression a mask of cold disapproval, her silence a judgment in itself. She wasn't the leader of this team and it was up to Jian Long to lead how he saw fit.

"The wyrm is wounded," Jian Long declared, his voice filled with a confident authority that brooked no argument.

"It will have retreated to its lair to recover. That is where we will most likely find the Serpent's Breath Lotus. We will take the lotus, and if the opportunity presents itself, we will slay the beast and take its core. The glory will be ours to share!" He led them forward, deeper into the Mire of Shadows. The path was no longer a path, but a treacherous, winding waterway of black, stagnant water.

The disciples abandoned the land, using their Qi to create small platforms or simply skimming across the surface, their movements swift and silent. Li Yu followed at the rear, his feet gliding across the water's surface with the effortless grace of his «Rippling Shadow Step». He was a ghost in their wake, his presence almost entirely concealed by the thick, disorienting fog. His spiritual sense was extended to its absolute limit, a silent, invisible web that mapped the treacherous world around them.

The lingering aura of the two powerful beasts grew stronger with every hundred feet they traveled. The draconic aura of the Abyssal Mire-Wyrm was a beacon of pain and fury, a wounded king raging in its den. But it was the other aura, the cold, crushing presence of the other demonic beast, that truly set Li Yu on edge. It was not a raging fire, but a block of absolute, silent cold. It was the aura of a patient, implacable hunter that had already won its battle and was simply waiting for its meal to die.

He subtly guided his own path, making tiny, almost imperceptible adjustments to his course. When the group passed near a submerged nest of venomous water snakes, he would drift a few feet to the left. When they neared a patch of water where a territorial Thorn-Backed Crocodile lay in ambush, he would slow his pace, allowing the disciple in front of him to pass through the danger zone first. To the others, he was just a weak junior struggling to keep up.

In reality, he was the only one navigating the true, invisible currents of death that flowed through the mire. After another hour of tense, silent travel, the fog began to thin. The narrow waterways opened up into a vast, circular basin, a lake of black water at least a mile in diameter. In the center of the lake was a single, large island of twisted, black rock, shrouded in a perpetual, shimmering mist. The air here was different.

The cloying scent of decay was gone, replaced by a clean, incredibly potent spiritual fragrance, so rich it was almost intoxicating.

"The Serpent's Heart basin," Jian Long breathed, his eyes wide with awe and greed.

"And the island… that must be where the lotus grows." The source of the fragrance was obvious. On the highest point of the rocky island, a single, luminous plant grew. It was a lotus, its petals a shimmering, ethereal silver, and from its center, a plume of white, vapor-like Qi rose and curled, resembling a serpent made of breath. This was the Serpent's Breath Lotus, a Rank 4 spiritual herb of incredible value. But the disciples' attention was not solely on the lotus.

At the base of the island, half-submerged in the black water, lay the Abyssal Mire-Wyrm. It was a terrifying, magnificent creature. Its body was over a hundred feet long, its scales the color of obsidian, shimmering with a faint, dark light. A pair of long, tattered wings were folded against its back, and a single, jagged horn jutted from its snout. Its draconic head was noble and ancient but its body was a canvas of horrific injuries.

A massive, gaping wound tore across its flank, its scales shattered and its flesh blackened. One of its powerful forelimbs was bent at an unnatural angle, clearly broken. It was breathing in slow, ragged gasps, its golden, reptilian eyes filled with a mixture of agony and unyielding pride. This was a king on its deathbed.

"It's even weaker than I thought," one of Jian Long's followers whispered, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Look at that wound! It can barely move!"

"The heavens are smiling upon us!" another added.

"The lotus and the core are ours for the taking!" Only Su Ling remained cautious.

"Its aura is still that of a Rank 4 Fierce Beast," she warned, her voice low.

"Even on the verge of death, a creature of its lineage is not to be underestimated. A cornered beast is the most dangerous." If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Your caution is noted, Junior Sister Su," Jian Long said with a condescending smile.

"But fortune favors the bold." He turned to his followers.

"Zhao Wei, you take two men and circle around to the far side of the island. When I give the signal, you will create a diversion. The rest of us will use that moment to assault the beast directly. We will aim for the head. Its defenses are weakened. A concentrated assault should be enough to finish it." He then turned his cold gaze to Li Yu.

"You. You will stay back. Your job is to watch for any other beasts that might be drawn by the commotion. If you see anything, you will act as a decoy to lead it away. Do you understand your role, Junior Brother?" Jian Long didn't want him to be part of the efforts to defeat the beast so he could come up with a reason later to not give him a share of the prize. With the valuable treasures ahead, he completely forgot about his assignment to injure or kill this boy.

"I understand, Senior Brother," Li Yu replied, his face a perfect mask of nervous obedience. As the disciples fanned out, taking their positions around the basin, Li Yu retreated a hundred feet, melting into the shadows of the gnarled trees at the edge of the mire. He was now completely out of sight, a forgotten piece on the chessboard. It was exactly what he wanted. He did not watch the disciples. He watched the water.

His spiritual sense was not focused on the dying wyrm, but on the deep, cold, and patient presence that he knew was lurking somewhere in the black depths of the basin. He could feel its aura, a silent, waiting hunger. It was not here by chance. It was the victor of the previous battle, and it was patiently waiting for its hard-won prey to finally expire so it could claim its prize. Jian Long and his team were not just attacking a wounded dragon.

They were about to try and steal a meal from a far more terrifying predator.

"Now!" Jian Long's roar echoed across the basin. On the far side of the island, Zhao Wei and his two companions unleashed a volley of brilliant, explosive spirit arts. Fireballs and wind blades slammed into the rocks near the wyrm, creating a cacophony of light and sound. The wounded wyrm, driven by a final surge of pride and agony, lifted its massive head and let out a deafening roar of defiance. It struggled to rise, its broken body trembling with the effort.

"Charge!" Jian Long commanded. He and his four followers shot across the water's surface like arrows, their swords and spirits blazing with power. Jian Long's Golden-Horned Rhinoceros spirit manifested, its power at the Fourth Stage of Qi Condensation a truly formidable sight. He was aiming to land the killing blow himself. The five disciples descended upon the wounded dragon in a storm of attacks. The wyrm, even in its death throes, was a fearsome opponent.

It swiped with its good claw, sending one disciple flying. It opened its mouth and spewed a torrent of black, corrosive venom, forcing the others to scatter. But it was a battle it could not win. It was too wounded, too weak. Jian Long, seeing an opening, roared and charged forward, his entire body enveloped in a golden light, his fist aimed directly at the wyrm's already injured head. It was at that precise moment that Li Yu acted. He did not move towards the battle.

He focused his entire spiritual will on the deep, cold presence in the water. He didn't project a challenge. He projected a single, clear, and undeniable message, imbued with the ancient, noble aura of his blood-red Koi spirit: They are trying to steal your food. The response was instantaneous. The placid, black water of the basin began to boil. A colossal shadow, far larger than the wyrm itself, rose from the depths.

It was not a fast, aggressive emergence, but a slow, inexorable rising, like a mountain being born from the abyss. Two enormous, stalk-like eyes, glowing with a cold, dead light, broke the surface. Then came the carapace. It was a massive, dome-like shell, the color of obsidian and covered in jagged, crystalline growths. It was a fortress of pure, abyssal power. Finally, two colossal pincers, each one large enough to crush a house, rose from the water.

They were made of the same black, crystalline material, their edges shimmering with a light-devouring energy that seemed to warp the very space around them. The colossal demonic beast had revealed itself. Its aura, no longer dormant, washed over the basin. It was a pressure so immense, so ancient, and so utterly devoid of life that it made the wyrm's draconic fury seem like a child's tantrum. This was a creature of the void, a being of absolute, crushing power.

Its Rank was impossible to determine, but it was far, far beyond the Fourth Stage. It was a monster that had no business being in this swamp. The disciples, who had been focused on the dying wyrm, froze in mid-attack. Their faces, which had been filled with greed and battle-lust, were now masks of pure, unadulterated terror. Jian Long, who was inches away from landing the killing blow on the wyrm, stopped dead, his golden aura flickering as if it were a candle in a hurricane.

He slowly turned his head, his eyes widening in horror at the mountainous creature that had risen behind him. The colossal beast paid the dying wyrm no mind. Its cold, dead eyes were fixed on the five disciples who had dared to interrupt its patient vigil. It let out a soundless, psychic screech that lanced through their minds, a wave of pure, crushing pressure. Then, its pincer moved. It was not fast. It was a slow, deliberate, and unstoppable motion. It swung in a wide arc, not aiming to cut, but to crush.

Jian Long screamed, a sound of pure terror. He abandoned his attack on the wyrm and tried to flee, but it was too late. The massive, black pincer descended, and the world dissolved into a silent, crushing void.