Where Immortals Once Walked

When the boss was in trouble, the underlings were bound to come running. The giant boars and the snake packs surged forward to support their bosses, slamming into the spider army.

Under the moonlight, the whole scene looked like a pot of boiling water: bodies churning, shadows colliding, hisses, squeals, and shrieks tangled into one feverish roar.

The onlookers halfway up the slope watched with their hearts in their throats. Once monsters truly went feral, humans had no part to play at all. They were spectators at best and breathing targets at worst.

But Tu Zhongli and his men were not watching. They seized the chance created by the three monster kings’ chaotic brawl and quietly made their way down the sinkhole, using exposed tree roots and hanging vines as their path.

They had barely started when Zhu Erniang, who had not suffered such humiliation in a long time, was driven into a genuine fury. Even while fighting, she forced herself to lift her head and spit several clusters of webbing toward distant trees.

The ancient trees around the sinkhole were at least seven or eight centuries old, colossal and majestic, trunks so thick that even several men could not wrap their arms around them.

Once her webs stuck fast, Zhu Erniang gave a savage yank.

And just like that, she dragged the entire writhing mass of monsters, including the other two demon kings, down into the sinkhole together, all tangled up, rowdy and unwilling, as if she were hauling a squabbling crowd into the depths.

The drop was more than fifty meters. When they hit the bottom, the shock alone scattered the lesser monsters on the outskirts, flinging them away in every direction.

Down here, spider silk was everywhere. Normally, only a narrow footpath was left clear for humans. Smaller creatures, shaken loose by the impact, were slammed straight into the webs and instantly stuck fast, especially the snakes, who suffered most. A snake that got pinned in those nets might as well have been sentenced to death on the spot.

The three greater monsters were still tangled together. They rolled down the slope in a heaving knot and, with a loud splash, plunged into the water.

The sinkhole pool was deep.

The giants fought underwater for a long time. King Si Wen was the first to falter. It was a purely land-dwelling monster; it simply could not hold its breath that long, and high-intensity combat burned through the air in its lungs faster still. Worse, countless eels began wriggling up from the depths, some of which were no thicker than chopsticks, while others were as wide as soup bowls. They latched onto it and gnawed and bit.

Under normal circumstances, it would not have cared. Those little things could not even break his skin. The problem was that his skin had already been pierced in more than a dozen places by spider guards, and venom had been injected into those wounds. Its thick hide did not contract and tighten the way it usually did, leaving the injured flesh loose and vulnerable.

The eels, wickedly opportunistic, wriggled straight into those wounds to wreak havoc. The result was pain and itching at once. It suffered an agony mixed with a crawling torment that made it want to scream.

And that was not even the worst of it.

One eel, thick as a bowl, was especially vicious. It clearly aimed to wriggle somewhere it absolutely should not.

Meanwhile, the other two were in far better shape. The giant python, Mountain Monarch Bo, was amphibious by nature. If it wanted, it could nap underwater without a problem. Zhu Erniang was not built the same way, but the stiff hairs covering her body trapped countless bubbles once submerged. When she could not hold on anymore, she only had to inhale a mouthful, and some bubbles even seeped directly into her body.

After about seven minutes, King Si Wen finally could not take it. It turned and surged up toward the surface.

With one main attacker gone, Zhu Erniang could focus her full attention on the python. Mountain Monarch Bo immediately began to feel the pressure.

As a greater monster who had survived countless years, Zhu Erniang’s legs were sharper than steel blades. Even her bristles carried venom, meaning she did not need to land a clean bite to poison her opponent.

Of course, Mountain Monarch Bo was also a master of toxins. Its fangs sank into the spider monster’s shoulder plate, and it poured venom in as if it wanted to empty its entire reserves into her.

But very quickly, it sensed something wrong.

Zhu Erniang’s combat strength had not weakened at all.

It was as though the venom had done nothing.

How is this possible?

A single drop of its saliva could poison hundreds of humans. Zhu Erniang might be tough, but after being flooded with several kilograms of venom, how could she be perfectly fine?

Just then, one of Zhu Erniang’s eyes began to swell bigger and bigger until it grew to twice the size of her other eyes. It then floated upward, rising slowly through the water as its color shifted from black to red.

That “eyeball” was actually a spider.

It kicked its legs twice in the water, then died.

Seeing that, Mountain Monarch Bo suddenly understood.

This bastard Zhu Erniang! Did she gather all the snake venom into her eye and expelled it away, directly purging it from her body?

They had been old rivals for years, and she had still been hiding so many trump cards.

But before it could dwell on the revelation, Mountain Monarch Bo noticed something else. Thin wisps of fibrous material drifted through the water. The moment it brushed against its scales, a sticky layer clung fast.

Spider silk!

Zhu Erniang had been quietly spinning web the entire time.

This kind of silk did not dissolve in water. Even submerged, its stickiness barely weakened for a good while. The spider clan used it to fish.

Now Zhu Erniang was using it to fish for snakes.

And thanks to the water’s flow, the strands drifted everywhere. Mountain Monarch Bo could not dodge them. Once it was fully entangled, it would have nowhere to borrow force from, as this was not dry land where there were many things to brace against. It could not tear free with the same ferocity it could on the surface.

By that math, Mountain Monarch Bo’s only path to victory was to return to land and attack together with King Si Wen.

The moment it reached that conclusion, it made its choice.

It released Zhu Erniang and shot toward the surface as fast as it could.

* * *

Outside the Demon Nest, the battle had turned the world upside down. Inside the underground palace, however, it was eerily quiet.

Wave after wave of spiders had rushed out to reinforce the rest. Their rustling skitter quickly faded into the distance, leaving the vast Demon Nest hollow and empty. The spider guards who remained held their posts and no longer ventured out.

In that dead silence, the Demon Nest’s wine cellar suddenly stirred.

Among the two long rows of wine jars that had been hauled inside earlier, one lid was slowly pushed aside. A head popped up cautiously, eyes darting around twice before the man whispered, “No guards. We’re safe!”

Four or five more jar lids were removed in quick succession. The bandits hidden inside hopped out one after another.

Sneaking into the underground palace inside wine jars really was a flawless plan.

“Quick, figure out where we’re going!”

“Where’s the map?” A bandit called to the first one out. “Old Six, hurry up and check the map!”

Glowspores grew in the cellar as well, so lighting was not an issue.

Old Six fished out a piece of mottled black-and-gray snakeskin from his robes and held it up to the light.

“We should be here.” He pointed a finger at one spot. “So we need to go... Wait, why does it seem off?”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Don’t get us lost!” the other bandits hissed at him.

Outside, monsters were buying them time, but no one knew how long that would last. They did not trust those monsters, either. The only sensible move was to finish the job fast.

Old Six shoved the snakeskin map toward them. “Then you do it if you’re so capable.”

No one reached for it. “You do it, you do it. Just hurry up.”

None of them was better at finding their way than Old Six.

“...Alright, it should be this way. Follow me.” At last, he confirmed the route and slipped out of the cellar with careful steps. “Mountain Monarch Bo said this used to be its old nest, so the map it gave us should be accurate.”

There was no guard at the cellar entrance, and that was only to be expected. After all, what kind of place posted guards to protect wine?

Still, Old Six spotted a flicker of light at the far end of the passage. He immediately recoiled.

A few breaths passed. Only when seeing that nothing happened did he creep forward again. Glowspores sometimes flared unexpectedly as they matured; nothing strange about that.

Old Six really did have a knack for maps. For a first-time visitor in a multi-level labyrinth like the Demon Nest—crisscrossing corridors, stacked chambers—he managed to keep his bearings with nothing more than a compass-like device.

They took a few wrong turns, but their overall direction was unmistakable. They were heading for Zhu Erniang’s dwelling, the heart chamber of the Demon Nest!

They did encounter spider guards patrolling along the way, of course. But they had a method. Whenever there was nowhere to hide, they would hold up a piece of snakeskin in front of them.

When the spider guards approached, those huge eyes saw only an ordinary rock wall.

This was because an illusion spell had been cast on that snakeskin, granting it a disguising effect. The spider guards’ level was not high enough to see through it.

As for the bandits, their bodies had already been smeared with grass sap and wood scent to mask human odor.

They slipped past several patrols like this, pressing deeper and deeper into the caves.

Even with a map, the sheer scale and complexity of the Demon Nest shocked them. One bandit finally asked Old Six through gritted teeth, “How much farther?” They had already been walking for fifteen minutes, and that was far too long.

Their boss had sounded Mountain Monarch Bo out earlier. The giant python might brag about its own battle strength, but even it admitted Zhu Erniang was terrifying. It had warned humans that, inside the Demon Nest, they had to go in fast and get out fast. Otherwise, they would die without even a corpse left behind.

They had not even managed the “go in fast” part. Was there any hope at all for the “get out fast”?

At last, they reached an enormous cavern. The entrance was sealed by dense layers of spider webbing.

Instead of panicking, Old Six’s eyes lit up. “This has to be it! Only something important would be guarded this tightly!”

The webs were untouchable. They were so sticky it was like reaching into glue. However, they had come prepared. The two sacks of sand they had been hauling finally had their moment.

They threw handfuls of sand onto the webbing.

No matter how adhesive the web was, once it was coated in layer after layer of grit, it lost its bite. In the end, Old Sixth poked it with his axe. When the blade did not stick, he nodded sharply. “We can get through.”

They could not cut it, but the webbing was elastic. The men forced themselves through, squeezing and pushing until they popped out on the other side.

The moment they entered, they had not even had time to brush the sand off their clothes before they saw several enormous, pitch-black spider monsters standing along the walls, motionless. Dozens of eyes seemed to be fixed on the entryway.

The bandits jerked in fright, and Old Six nearly dropped the map.

So big! They’re even bigger than Zhu Erniang outside!

Only after their hearts stopped trying to leap out of their throats did they realize that these giant monsters were not moving at all. They were like statues, like sleeping hulks frozen mid-breath.

“Are... are these it?”

Old Six steadied himself. “Probably. Mountain Monarch Bo wants molted shells. These should be them!”

“Which one do we take?” With no guards in sight, they crept closer, peering and prodding. This was their first time seeing monsters this massive, and curiosity got the better of them. One even rapped his knuckles against a spider’s leg.

Thunk, thunk!

They were incredibly hard.

“There are four of them.”

“Mountain Monarch Bo didn’t say which one.” Maybe that giant python doesn’t even know that there are four shells here. “Then let’s take the biggest.”

Another bandit shook out a snakeskin sack. “How do we use this thing?”

“That big snake said you just slip the storage sack over the shell’s head and pull it down.”

The bandit had no choice but to climb. Using both hands and feet, he scaled the mountain-like spider molt. But the bristles on its legs were like a wall of blades. Every step had to be careful, because one slip, and he might just find himself skewered.

His companions below were frantic, hissing up at him nonstop.

“Hurry up! What the hell are you dragging your feet for?”

“You climb into Widow Wang’s bed fast enough, don’t you? Now you’re suddenly slow?”

“Don’t tell me your legs are going soft. You’ve been walking kinda floaty all day.”

The climber snapped, turning around in irritation. “Shut up! If you can do it, come up and—ah!”

His body suddenly jerked. He convulsed twice like he had been struck by lightning, then toppled headfirst.

The bristles along the shell’s legs were like stabbing swords. He rolled all the way down, torn open in who knew how many places. He looked like a leaking sack, blood streaming from every angle.

The others yelped and rushed to flip him over.

His face was already turning a sickly black-green. His whole body spasmed uncontrollably, and his skin visibly swelled, as though someone were pumping air into him from the inside.

The blood oozing from his wounds quickly shifted color, turning yellow-green. It no longer even looked like blood; instead, it looked like pus.