Chapter 76: Burrower

After two days of travel, the caravan finally reached the town Grul mentioned.

The town was small, with only one inn total.

The caravan would spend the night here.

Feed the horses well, replenish food and drinking water, rest one night, then push straight through to Bremen City.

The inn’s food was plain: a stew of root vegetables, paired with smoked pork and salted fish.

Yet everyone ate heartily.

The room rate was cheap: one silver per night for a single room.

Of course, it was also very basic.

The room held nothing but a bed and a table—no extra space at all, and even the toilet was shared.

But Gao De didn’t mind a bit.

For one silver, with free water refill, what more could you want?

Moreover, he had spent two consecutive nights outdoors and was completely exhausted; seeing such a bed, he felt no complaints, only genuine happiness.

After eating his fill, Gao De returned to his room, launched himself onto the slightly hard bed, rolled over once, and let out a contented sigh.

After a full night’s rest, the caravan departed promptly at dawn the next day.

Gao De, having finally slept well, sat on the cart with full energy, just as he had at the journey’s start.

Moreover, he seemed to be growing accustomed to the bumpy ride—even attempting to enter a meditative state while on the cart, practicing meditation techniques.

It was said that High-Ring Masters could enter meditation anywhere, anytime.

By that logic, perhaps an apprentice mage could too.

To his own surprise, whether from innate talent or something else, after multiple attempts, Gao De managed, haltingly, to enter a meditative state.

His daily practice, interrupted by the journey, had left him unaccustomed and uneasy.

Now, mastering cultivation during a bumpy trip was a significant gain.

Though his meditation was often interrupted by disturbances, it was better than wasting time entirely.

Flameflower Month, 29th.

The second day after leaving the town, at dusk.

According to Grul, they should reach Bremen City by afternoon tomorrow.

As the entire caravan reveled in the joy of nearing their destination, an unexpected change occurred.

The lead cart suddenly jolted violently.

Those on the cart, caught off guard, tumbled off.

But the caravan members were all sturdy men, and they quickly rose to their feet.

“Beast attack!” The caravan leader, fastest to react, shouted loudly.

Amid a cloud of dust,

a massive, segmented creature burst from the ground, flipping the lead cart clean over.

The creature looked terrifying.

Its legs were long and thin, ending in sharp claws.

Its entire body was covered in hard, brown chitinous armor.

Above its powerful mandibles, two black eyes glowed fiercely as they stared outward.

“Burrower!” Gao De didn’t recognize the creature, but Grul shouted its name, face pale.

“What is that?”

“A subterranean carnivorous earth-vein creature, one of the most common earth-vein beasts on the highway.”

“Burrowers move underground; once they detect prey above, they burst out to attack,” said the usually silent driver—the longest sentence Gao De had ever heard from him.

“Earth-vein creature!” Gao De shuddered, nerves tightening, his right hand instinctively gripping the Hidden Mist Fang strapped to his waist.

“Grab your weapons!” The caravan leader roared like thunder.

At his command, over a dozen caravan members snatched up the long spears beside them.

These were the caravan’s most common defensive weapons—effective for maintaining distance and easy to carry.

The terrified group drew their spears and counterattacked.

This wasn’t their first encounter with beast attacks on the road; their response was disciplined.

Though every face was tense, their movements remained steady, no one fled in panic.

Led by the caravan leader, they formed a tight formation around the Burrower, spears raised.

Their faces were filled with dread.

Yet they summoned courage, thrusting their spears in unison toward the Burrower’s eyes—like forest thorns, trying to halt the monstrous beast’s advance.

Only this spot lacked chitinous armor—it was the Burrower’s weakness. All caravan members knew this; the Burrower knew it even better.

It turned its head to dodge the spears, swung its body, and lashed its tail at the two lead drivers.

The spears struck its thick chitin, leaving only white scratches—no real damage, not even a scratch.

Its massive body possessed tremendous strength; its rock-hard tail swept the two drivers clean away, flinging them three or four meters.

Seeing this, the caravan leader’s eye twitched, but he gritted his teeth: “Don’t retreat—keep holding ground, or this beast will eat us all!”

Wild beasts are usually bullies.

Show weakness, and they’ll push further.

But fight back fiercely, and after a struggle, unless they’ve been starving for days, they’ll usually retreat.

It’s just a meal—no need to die for it!

Earth-vein creatures are the same.

The caravan leader, seasoned for years in this trade, knew this instinctively.

To repel an earth-vein beast, you must fight to the death—only then might you drive it off.

But he also knew: this time, the caravan would likely suffer serious injuries—perhaps even lose one or two men.

Earth-vein attacks were unavoidable; you just had to blame your bad luck.

Boom! The Burrower charged the spear formation, trying to smash through it with brute force and armored bulk.

But the caravan’s coordination was surprisingly seamless.

Several men drove their spears into the ground; as the Burrower charged, they abruptly lifted the shafts—using the “lever principle” to trip it.

“Well done!”

“Grul, fire!” The caravan leader, seeing the Burrower tripped, bellowed.

“Fire! Yes, fire—the Burrower fears fire!” Grul suddenly realized.

As a subterranean creature, the Burrower lived in perpetual darkness; its eyes had atrophied, and it feared flame intensely—both heat and blinding light.

The problem: they’d just arrived, set up camp, hadn’t lit a fire yet—how could they find something flammable to throw?

Opportunity won’t knock twice.

The Burrower, battered by the spears, had cleverly shut its eyes and was struggling to flip over—about to rise again.

As Grul panicked, a searing wave tore past his side without warning.

It was a beam of blazing light, slicing through the air, hurtling toward the Burrower.

The flame struck like an arrow, exploding against the Burrower’s closed right eye in a burst of blinding fire.

The Burrower, normally calm, panicked wildly, thrashing its body.

The heat seared it in agony.

Stones and dust flew from its convulsions, forming a chaotic storm.

Shh! It wasn’t over.

Another flame, like a meteor, shot toward the Burrower’s other eye.

The flipped Burrower was a stationary target, unable to dodge effectively.

Two beams of flame shattered the eye armor.

The caravan saw victory—no time to wonder about the flame’s source—they all thrust their spears into the exposed eyes.

A piercing shriek rang out.

Soil and stones sprayed in the tremors.

Everyone gritted their teeth, moving swiftly and decisively—spears plunged again and again into the Burrower’s eyes.

The Burrower’s struggles weakened—signs of imminent death.

“Move aside!” A low voice rang out.

In the high-tension atmosphere, no one recognized the voice, but all instinctively obeyed, stepping aside.

Another searing flame struck the Burrower’s dying right eye with perfect precision.

Like the final straw.

The Burrower twitched once, then fell still—life gone.

The caravan members stood around the Burrower, panting.

Their eyes held triumph—and a touch of shock.

Calm now, they realized: those three flames were spells.

Magic!

From whom? Only one outsider in the entire caravan.

(End of Chapter)