Where Immortals Once Walked

That crisp sound was unmistakable. It was the clicking of a spring-triggered device, the kind often used in taming and training beasts.

But what was a beast-taming tool doing here, inside the Panlong Dreamscape, in the middle of the night?

Before He Lingchuan could fully process the sound, a shadow crawled up along the courtyard wall. Then, a strange creature lifted its head above the wall.

For a moment, he was not sure what he was looking at. It looked part badger, part flying squirrel, and it also looked part sea otter. Its size was no bigger than a house cat. However, it had no fur at all. Its bare skin was gray, mottled with tiny black spots, patterned so closely to the stone walls and shadowed snow that it almost blended in. The whole creature was gathered into thick, wrinkled folds, as if its hide were several sizes too large for its body.

Its eyes were tiny, appearing to be no more than glints the size of rice grains, but they shone with a sharp red light. And then, with eerie precision, it locked eyes with He Lingchuan.

The look within those beady pupils made the hairs at the back of his neck prickle. It was cold, calculating, and malicious.

Before his brain even formed the thought, his right hand had already slid instinctively toward his blade.

The little monster tilted its head. Then, with unnerving deliberation, it turned its entire body to face him squarely.

It assumed a hunter’s posture.

Just as the two stared at each other—one man, one creature—the sky above suddenly darkened with a falling shadow. A blur of dark brown dropped like a meteor from the night clouds and slammed straight into the mottled little beast with incredible speed.

It sped down faster than an arrow shot at point-blank range.

The two creatures collided and tumbled off the wall in a twisting knot of claws and teeth.

They fell into Sun Fuling’s courtyard next door.

He Lingchuan did not bother with the door. He vaulted straight through the window and sprang up to the top of the wall in one fluid movement.

Moonlight spilled across the snow, revealing the identity of the aerial attacker.

It was a sparrowhawk. He Lingchuan recognized it as he had run into it several times. They had even fought alongside each other during that chaotic battle in the spider queen’s den. The patterns of spots on its tail feathers were as familiar to him as an old comrade’s scars.

The sparrowhawk screeched sharply as it fought, flapping and pecking and raking with its razor talons. Anyone with any weaker eyesight would have seen nothing but two blurred smears smashing into each other, feathers spewing out every now and then.

However, He Lingchuan’s vision was far better than most. One glance allowed him to see the truth, and that was that the sparrowhawk was losing.

He could not make sense of it. With the force generated by the full aerial dive, its talons should have been strong enough to kill any proper weasel monster instantly. Despite that, this tiny creature seemed completely unbothered. The attack had not even broken its skin. It twisted around with uncanny agility and snapped at the sparrowhawk in return.

And its biting strength was horrifying.

It did not fight like a beast but rather like a trained assassin.

The little creature was faster than any weasel monster he had ever encountered, and it targeted vital points with frightening precision.

The sparrowhawk dodged twice, but its leg was still caught. Flesh tore with a wet rip, and blood sprayed across the snow.

After that, the creature lunged right for the sparrowhawk’s throat.

The sparrowhawk frantically shielded itself with one wing. The monster latched onto the wing, ripping and chewing like a rabid dog. Plumage flew everywhere.

In the blink of an eye, the sparrowhawk was on the brink of death.

This bird was a soldier of Panlong City.

He Lingchuan wouldn’t just stand by and watch it die.

He scooped up a handful of icy snow from the wall, squeezed it into a compact ball, and hurled it with practiced force.

The little predator flinched, startled by the sudden white blur flashing in front of its face.

Its disadvantage was its tiny size. Every snowball completely blocked its line of sight.

He Lingchuan leaped from the wall, landing lightly on the ground. With a sweeping motion, he batted the sparrowhawk away with the flat of his blade, sending it skidding safely across the snow.

Then he drew his dagger with his left hand and stabbed straight at the little creature.

But the creature was fast, too fast.

Its body darted like a streak of wind. In the next instant, it was running across He Lingchuan’s torso, using him as its personal obstacle course. From its perspective, humans were lumbering giants—stiff, slow, and laughably easy to climb.

He Lingchuan’s dagger flashed, metal ringing as he deflected its attempts to gouge his vital spots. He had practiced hard to raise his mastery of the Swallow’s Return movement technique to minor success. Most importantly, he had experience. Tiny, hyper-agile foes often lacked raw strength, so they attacked only the deadliest weaknesses: throat, eyes, heart.

While he parried, he also took the opportunity to shove something small into his mouth and chew vigorously.

The creature missed several key attacks and began producing that strange clicking sound again.

Gnash, gnash, gnash.

It began grinding its teeth, and its strategy suddenly shifted. It lunged straight for his abdomen.

He Lingchuan wore light armor, but the other party’s incisors were sharper than a rat’s. With a rapid crackling sound, it bit straight through the leather. Afterward, its entire body compressed, shrinking down to the size of a mouse, and it drilled into the opening as if funneling into a burrow.

He Lingchuan’s heart lurched. A sharp, searing pain followed immediately.

This creature intended to drill a hole through his stomach, biting its way inside, and then chew his organs from within!

Judging by how fast it tore through the armor, penetrating flesh and guts would take only a handful of breaths.

He Lingchuan did not fear death in the dreamscape, but dying like this?

He was absolutely not having it. Dying in this way would simply be too humiliating for him.

In another second, only the tip of its smooth, hairless tail was still visible outside the hole.

He Lingchuan did not hesitate to grab its tail and yank it with all his strength.

But then, there was a snap. Its tail actually came right off.

It had broken off its tail like a gecko, self-amputating it as a survival tactic.

Even so, that violent tug pulled the creature partly out of his armor. He Lingchuan seized the chance to spit out the thing he had chewed earlier straight onto the creature’s back, then struck it with a heavy palm to fling it far from his body.

He had to create some distance between them first and ensure that it could not immediately chew a hole somewhere else.

His strike was not gentle. Yet the little creature merely rolled twice on landing, uninjured, and sprang up again, ready to attack once more.

But after only two steps, it froze.

Something felt wrong.

Its limbs and belly were stuck together, causing it to become heavier and clumsier.

It lowered its head and saw a large glob of milky-white gel clinging to its body, stretching in thick strings. When it raised a paw to push, that paw also stuck fast, and it became unable to pull its paw free.

Panic flashed in the creature’s red eyes. It thrashed wildly and began biting the white substance.

However, it was useless. It only managed to glue its own jaws shut, sealing its mouth around the sticky mess.

Within barely a dozen breaths, the creature collapsed on its side, completely immobilized, covered head to toe in milky-white adhesive.

The more it struggled, the more hopelessly it entangled itself.

Perched nearby, the sparrowhawk asked weakly, “What is that?”

“Some kind of little monster?” He Lingchuan answered uncertainly. The thing was truly hideous.

“I’m referring to the stuff you used,” the sparrowhawk clarified.

“Birdlime[1],” He Lingchuan replied cheerfully.

“...” The sparrowhawk shrank its neck, deeply offended on a spiritual level.

“Don’t underestimate it. This stuff can catch wild boars, deer, and countless small monsters. It’s extremely reliable, so long as it doesn’t get wet.”

Willow had taught him this trick. Hunters often mixed sap from a certain tree to create a powerful bird-catching adhesive. In its resting state, it was solid and convenient to carry. When warmed, it melted into a tacky gel. That was why he had needed to chew it.

Thankfully, the adhesive did not stick to the inside of his mouth. The moment water touched it, it lost its stickiness.

Unfortunately for him, the little monster understood human speech.

The moment it heard the words “lose its stickiness when wet,” it rolled frantically across the snow, trying to melt it into water.

He Lingchuan’s expression flipped. He dashed into the kitchen, grabbed a bamboo basket, and swooped it over the creature like a net.

The little creature bared its teeth at him, but its body was completely immobilized.

Up close, he could clearly smell a salty, briny, damp odor coming from it.

It smells like sea breeze mixed with... some kind of bodily secretion?

Curious, He Lingchuan drew his dagger and sliced at its skin.

It looked thin, but the blade failed to cut through. The dagger skidded off like he had struck tough, flexible oxhide.

Why does this feel so familiar? He Lingchuan’s brow furrowed, and he pressed harder and stabbed with real force.

Still, he failed to cut the little creature’s skin.

The creature’s skin folded, but no cut formed.

“Interesting.” Seeing that the dagger could not do anything to the little creature, he drew Fleeting Life.

The little creature shrieked as the blade slashed its back, opening a long wound at last, from which pale green blood oozed out.

“As expected, you’re on the wanted list.” As expected, Fleeting Life never disappoints.

But catching one of the creatures on the wanted list did not bring him joy. Instead, it only made him worry. If one such creature had infiltrated Panlong City, how many more lurked unseen? These creatures were either monstrously strong or terrifyingly fast, able to shrug off blades and arrows, so how were ordinary citizens supposed to defend themselves?

And worst of all, these creatures ate people.

He was still studying the captured creature when hurried footsteps sounded outside, and they seemed to be approaching quickly.

He Lingchuan stepped to the gate and opened it just as a city patrol officer rushed up, looking around anxiously.

“Who are you looking for?” He Lingchuan displayed his patrol badge.

“We received a distress signal,” the man said breathlessly. “We were told another one of those creatures appeared in this area!”

He Lingchuan lifted the bamboo basket. “You mean this little thing?”

The patrolman peered inside and jolted. “Yes! That’s exactly the creature! I heard fighting. Did anyone get hurt?”

“Someone did.” He Lingchuan glanced back. The sparrowhawk was perched shakily on the back of a chair in Sun Fuling’s courtyard, eyes closed and breathing hard.

The patrolman spotted it too. “I’ll take it back for treatment!”

The sparrowhawk flapped its wings twice, then it crashed onto the snowy ground.

“...”

“I’ll take care of it.” He Lingchuan sighed, closing the courtyard gate behind him.

The patrolman blinked. “Where are you going with that thing?”

“I’ll turn it in for military merit,” He Lingchuan replied, shaking the basket. “The higher-ups are desperate to capture these things. I’m thinking of claiming some merit for myself.”

The patrolman said, “I’m heading back to file a report anyway. I can take it for you.”

“Wouldn’t that be more trouble for you?” He Lingchuan hesitated. “Will you help me file for my military merit?”

“Sure, no problem.” The patrolman held up his own badge, on which his name and serial number were clearly visible. “Just tell me your name and code.”

Every soldier in the roll had a number or code for easy tracking.

After giving his details, He Lingchuan handed the basket over. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” The patrolman nodded and hurried off.

He Lingchuan watched him disappear around the corner. Something tugged at his mind, a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something.

But before he could chase the thought, a flurry of wingbeats sounded behind him.

He turned just in time to see the sparrowhawk attempt another takeoff and fail miserably, tumbling right back into the snow.

Luckily for the sparrowhawk, the snow was quite thick.

He carried the bird gently and hopped back into his own courtyard, then brought it inside his house for treatment.

The creature had been small, but its bite was monstrous. A whole chunk of flesh had been ripped from the sparrowhawk’s leg. The wing that shielded its throat earlier was shredded, and many of its flight feathers were now gone, the bone beneath cracked and twisted. Clearly, the little beast had been shockingly strong.

“With injuries like this, you won’t be flying for at least two months,” He Lingchuan muttered. “Let me set the bone first. Don’t move afterward. I’ll need to find A’Luo to make some medicine for you.”

A few months ago, he could barely wrap a bandage properly. Now, after patching up so many injuries on the battlefield, he was practically half a physician.

As the saying goes, prolonged illness makes a patient a good doctor.

As he splinted the wing, He Lingchuan asked, “Why were you even chasing that thing?”

“Lately, those creatures have been rampant, and over a dozen civilians have died to them. They’ve thrown Panlong City into panic. Aside from patrols, the city has even issued a wanted list,” the sparrowhawk murmured gloomily. “Since I fly high, I was sent to do aerial surveillance.”

He Lingchuan understood perfectly. Panlong City had always prided itself on being secure and efficient. It was one of the model cities of the realm. A sudden spike in civilian deaths, with killers uncaught, was intolerable. Public sentiment would suffer, and the pressure on the government would mount.

“How many have been caught so far?”

“Including the one today, five.”

1. The Chinese word for this literally translates to bird-catching glue. ☜