Chapter 226

The "striped flood dragon" probably crawled into the altar cave from another water cave; the ice-wall-like crystal blocked its path, and its bulky body made it hard to leap over the several-meter-high ice wall, so it only stretched its huge mouth through the gap between two large crystals, its jawbone still stuck outside, its short, thick limbs constantly kicking and scratching behind, wishing to crush the blocking crystal.

Animals that have lived long like the "inner elixir," especially aquatic creatures—flood dragons, fish, turtles, clams—smooth, round pearls are their favorite to swallow and spit out under the moonlight as "inner elixir"; many ancient texts hold this view, believing it to be a manifestation of long-term spiritual communication and absorbing vital essence, but in truth it is simply their nature.

I exerted all my strength to barely block the two crystal eyeballs about to roll into the water with the mountaineering pick, but though heaven and earth are vast, enemies meet on narrow paths—I never expected the "striped flood dragon" to take this chance to thrust its mouth sideways like a bar, its huge mouth sucking in, the foul airflow wrapping the crystal eyeballs and dragging them into its mouth; I saw it all, though anxious with my heart burning, entry is easy but exit hard—those two "striped flood dragons" watching the Wind-Erosion Lake's treasure pearl, I don't know how many years they've fought this white-bearded old fish over this thing; once swallowed, outsiders would never retrieve it; though both evil flood dragons were already smashed to death by the thousand-jin stone eye in the ancient city ruins, facing just this one "striped flood dragon," we have no way to deal with it now—this creature has thick skin, strong flesh, and boundless strength; bullets won't affect it; I can't move on the slippery crystal layer, only watching helplessly as despair reaches its peak.

At the moment the "striped flood dragon" sucked the crystal eyeball into its mouth, I heard a commotion behind me—apparently Uncle Ming and Pangzi had brought Axiang down from the heavenly beam, trampling many dry corpses, people and dry corpses rolling down together; before I could turn to see what happened, something shoved me hard from behind—I don't know if it was Pangzi and company rolling down or the dry corpses they trampled—but the force was huge, instantly shoving me forward sliding across the crystal layer.

I lay on the ground, pushed forward and sliding out, already lost control of my inertia—just right to send my head toward the "striped flood dragon's" blood basin mouth; in an instant I was face-to-face, momentum not stopping, my head already at its lip; the "striped flood dragon's" foul breath made my forehead ache in waves, its ghastly teeth made my whole body feel icy—yet suddenly I saw two round objects slowly rolling backward in its mouth, about to disappear into its throat; and the "striped flood dragon" with its enormous bite force, originally sucking hard inward with a not-large opening angle, seeing me deliver myself, this greedy creature naturally wouldn't let go—it fully opened its mouth, preparing to bite off my head together with those eyeballs.

I didn't dare think of the consequences, only relying on a moment of blood courage—while my body slid forward, I grabbed the mountaineering pick beside me, quickly thrust it forward as a brace, jammed it upright into the "striped flood dragon's" big mouth, instantly propping its mouth open in a large character shape, unable to close; then I slammed my head into its tooth bed, the mountaineering helmet clanging on impact; I used one hand to hold its upper jaw, the other hand fully plunged into its mouth, hard to pull out the two crystal eyeballs; the instant I retracted my hand, the "striped flood dragon's" huge mouth snapped shut, the mountaineering pick wedged between its upper and lower jaws spat out, falling far into the water.

Only then did I feel a lingering fear—half a second slower and this arm would be gone; I opened my palm to see two round objects, though covered in sticky gastric fluid, saliva, and bloodstains, but couldn't hide the faint red glow inside—not anything else, but the crystal corpse eyeballs placed by the "Reincarnation Sect" in the Wind-Erosion Lake to worship the evil Rakshasa Sea City; earlier we had basically guessed the ghost mother's brain might be buried underground in the Shadow City, while the eyes were placed in the underwater temple of the ancient ruins or somewhere at the lake bottom, to compete for this "inner elixir" in the eyes of aquatic creatures, causing the "striped flood dragon" to constantly attack the fish schools in the Wind-Erosion Lake—but we never expected that, after the white-bearded fish was severely wounded, it would spit them out here in this cave; just now I had barely escaped, almost lost and found again, but fate apparently hasn't abandoned us—these two offerings are now both in my hands.

I hadn't yet had time to savor the danger of reaching into the evil flood dragon's mouth for the pearl when I saw the "striped flood dragon" behind the stone crack raging madly—it obviously couldn't tolerate my actions, retreated a few steps, then fiercely rammed its head into the two large crystal blocks blocking its path; though these mirror-like ores are connected to the crystal vein layer and thus fairly solid, plus the ground crystal layer is unusually smooth, making it hard to exert full force, but this gap is an inverted triangle—narrow below, wide above—and the "striped flood dragon" actually leaped into the wider upper gap, its bulky body twisting and squeezing, actually showing signs of climbing over.

I thought, "Not good," I must quickly climb back up the mountain-like pile of dry corpses, immediately stuff the offerings into my carrying bag—at this moment I realized I don't know when, but the rumbling thunder overhead had ceased; the cave now only had the heavy breathing of people and beasts; suddenly gunfire rang out—Pangzi on the corpse mountain, seeing danger, fired in support, but bullets hitting the "striped flood dragon's" head did nothing, only making it more furious.

Taking advantage of it not yet breaking free from the crack, I quickly braced my feet on the crystal rock to push back; when my body hit the piled dry corpses behind, I realized the person who had shoved me earlier was Uncle Ming—he had rolled from the dry corpse pile to my side, expression a mess of misery, terrified by the fierce evil flood dragon, standing frozen not knowing what to do; I grabbed his arm and desperately climbed up the dry corpse pile.

I saw Pangzi above continuously firing, while Shirley Yang wanted to come down to assist, but on the dry corpse hill, movement is truly difficult—the harder one tries, the less one can move; only hearing Shirley Yang anxiously shout: "Watch behind..."

I didn't need to turn back to know things were bad—surely the "striped flood dragon" had already leaped over; once contact is made, whether bitten or rammed, death is certain—but the corpse hill is hard to climb, so I gave up continuing upward, grabbed Uncle Ming and rolled from the mid-slope of the dry corpse pile toward the side, where there are many uneven crystal caves and prismatic crystal formations, terrain more complex, perhaps temporarily able to block that relentless "striped flood dragon."

The fluorescence in the altar cave dimmed, seemingly not only due to the black shadow overhead; after the thick stone smoke dispersed, the lower light also gradually became unusually dim, everything starting to look hazy and blurred, as if all light in the cave was being absorbed by the "Great Black Heaven Thunderclap Mountain"; but for us, this situation temporarily has its advantageous side. The reflections in the crystal stones became hazy, no longer affecting our directional judgment. Only the surroundings were shadowy and vague, slightly making eyes dizzy, so from several meters away the terrain looks complex, but up close one sees only a single ice-wall-like crystal rock where one can temporarily take cover.

At this moment Uncle Ming also came to his senses, hiding with me behind this large crystal stone; before we could steady ourselves, the "striped flood dragon" slammed hard into the crystal stone behind us—this impact was like striking a thousand-jin copper bell, a huge roar followed by endless buzzing resonance, feeling body and mind thoroughly shaken numb, head dizzy, vision blurred for a moment, fully several seconds passed before returning to normal.

The crystal stone behind us suffered a violent impact, and at that moment of losing consciousness, the "striped flood dragon" launched a second impact—this time I took the lesson, quickly moved my body away from the crystal stone, turned around and saw that large transparent crystal behind had already been cracked by the impact into several fissures; one more hit, at most two, and the "striped flood dragon" could break through the wall.

Seeing we were already in a desperate situation, our position surrounded on two sides by sideways and inverted crystal veins, right side piled with dry corpses—easy to go down, hard to go up, in a hurry impossible to climb; right side, near the dying fish's water cave—but under the "striped flood dragon's" pursuit, jumping into the water would be seeking death.

At this moment Uncle Ming panicked again: "Old Brother Hu, we can't hold on—run for your life!" This series of events may have destabilized his mind; I saw his actions—this time he truly wasn't acting—he actually dove headfirst, feet back, into a very shallow crystal cave, saying it was an erosion hole on the crystal vein, actually about as thick as a water barrel, and not deep at all—Uncle Ming only went halfway in before hitting bottom, his legs and buttocks still sticking out; all I heard was him muttering in the cave: "This place is safe enough—just use your brain and everything will be fine." Then he realized his lower half was still exposed, and whether he was foolish or clear-headed, he actually comforted himself: "Worst case, I don't need my legs."

At this time Shirley Yang brought Axiang, and together with Pangzi, climbed down from the corpse pile to join me; seeing their uneasy expressions, probably the heavenly beam and altar vicinity can no longer be stayed in; I never had a chance to look up to see what happened above, but since everyone is gathered in one place, advance and retreat can at least have some mutual support.

We saw Uncle Ming's speech already somewhat disordered, about to pull him out of the cave, but the crystal behind suddenly collapsed—the "striped flood dragon" finally, on its third impact, knocked down the less-than-half-meter-thick crystal layer; everyone hurriedly crouched to dodge; the "striped flood dragon" used the inertia from its leaping impact to leap over our heads, slamming into the opposite crystal layer with a loud bang, scattering crystal dust down; its monstrous body heavily hit the ground, but its force carried it too far, rolling sideways twice before stopping.

Behind us is a pool, adjacent to the dry corpse pile direction, completely blocked by the "striped flood dragon"; I saw escape was impossible, only to grit my teeth and fight to the death, I took out the MI911 about to fire—but saw that "striped flood dragon" suddenly roll over violently, a sound of bones shattering inch by inch coming from inside its body, blood gushing from mouth, nose, and eyes; the ferocious beast became like a pile of soft, collapsed meat patty, and just lay dead on the ground.

For a moment we all froze on the spot, nobody dared believe what we saw was real—the "striped flood dragon's" entrails and bones crushed into mud, externally uninjured but already shapeless, this happened in just one or two seconds—too fast, too unbelievable; and it merely lunged forward and fell there—what exactly happened just now? If it was attacked by something, why didn't we see it? Thinking this, a deep chill rose in my heart—could it be an invisible enemy? Or could it truly be the evil spirit "Great Black Heaven Thunderclap Mountain" in the ore? Even the "striped flood dragon" could be eliminated by it in an instant. Killing a few people would be no more than child's play.

Everyone's mind gave a jolt, but then we discovered that beneath the "striped flood dragon's" mud-like corpse, the ground's crystal layer had turned black—that kind of black color, even in dim light, stands out exceptionally, a kind of presence-less, utterly void black, like black ink flowing inside the crystal stone, slowly moving toward us within the crystal layer.

The entire cave's crystal layer had already more than half turned black; the un-eroded crystal layer remained little; visibility dropping lower and lower—"Great Black Heaven Thunderclap Mountain" had indeed emerged, though we don't know what it is or how it killed the "striped flood dragon," but everyone knows: once touching that blackened crystal layer, one will surely share the fate of that unlucky "striped flood dragon"—die without ever knowing how.

Hiding in the cave, only his two legs exposed, Uncle Ming was closest to those gradually blackening crystal bodies; I and Pangzi saw the situation was bad, each grabbed one of his legs and pulled him out of the cave; Shirley Yang also took Axiang, and the five of us hurriedly retreated backward—but saw all directions were like splashed ink, we were already surrounded, nowhere left to go.

We had no choice left—we had to jump into the water cave where the white-bearded old fish lived, a small pool in the crystal layer, small diameter but very deep; without oxygen tanks, one cannot swim out from below; even with tanks, the underwater routes are unclear, very likely to get lost and find no exit, finally dying from oxygen depletion; for a moment advance and retreat were impossible, so we just treaded water to float there; at the moment we jumped into the water, the entire cave had already been swallowed by that ink-like substance in the crystal layer.

We panicked and jumped into the water without choosing, but apparently by mistake—seems that thing can only exist in crystal or rock, cannot enter water; here we are temporarily safe, but from a broader view, we have no food, no retreat, trapped here—how long can we last? What meaning is there in lingering another moment?

In the dark cave, shrouded in deathlike silence, less than half a minute passed and it was already black to the point of not seeing fingers when stretching out hand; we turned on the tactical flashlight on our mountaineering helmets, the beam sinking into the black ocean—though weak like fireflies, it still lets one feel a bit of comfort in despair.

I looked around, confirmed the thing in the crystal layer won't enter water, then gave a bitter laugh—this time it's good, we went to hell and back to finally gather the phoenix gall and crystal eyes, eyes on taking off this big burden—but we were one step late; now the yellow flowers are cold, we might as well soak in it—by tomorrow we'll be soaked soft and turned into floating corpses.

Pangzi complained, saying the blame is all on Uncle Ming—he delayed everyone's survival time; it's not that we insist on some class reckoning, but we can't let him off lightly, he owes us mental damages, even in the underworld he has to pay it back—Lao Hu, you say how should we settle this account?

Uncle Ming was clearly terrified of me and Pangzi, helpless, so he went to Shirley Yang for help; Shirley Yang told us: "Alright, stop scaring Uncle Ming—he's old, not easy—quickly think of a way to get out, can't really just soak in water till tomorrow like Lao Hu said."

Just as I was about to speak, Axiang suddenly cried "Aiyo"—apparently during the chaos, someone kicked a dry corpse's arm into the water, it floated to her side and startled her.

I fished out the floating dry corpse arm from the water and told Axiang: "Axiang sis, this is actually a good thing—look, this dry corpse's arm, though dried up, the flesh hasn't rotted or dissolved, indicating it's a zombie—take it back to Hong Kong, boil and eat it, it'll do you great good."

Shirley Yang and Axiang etc. all shook their heads in disbelief—what time is this, still talking nonsense? Pangzi said Lao Hu, I now truly admire you—before I thought we had similar guts, but now in this situation you're still boasting? Your shameless attitude isn't something just anyone can have—but you boast all you want, spouting nonsense is no good—are you starved silly, even thinking of eating zombies?

I told them: You people really have no vision—zombie meat can be used in medicine, this is clearly recorded in ancient books, especially for treating limb-deficient injuries; back when Liu Yu's subordinate, the Henan river-sand official, overturned the cup of Emperor Zhezong of Song, saw that the emperor had already become a zombie, skin white and crystalline like it would drip water, so everyone cut him a piece of meat to save for future use when suffering knife or arrow wounds; even foreigners acknowledge mummies have high medicinal value—how is this my nonsense?

I was speaking absentmindedly, just to say something to let everyone relax their tense nerves, but Shirley Yang seemed to think of something, took the dry corpse arm from my hand and said: "Got it—maybe we still have a chance to return to the altar above."

Shirley Yang said, in ancient legends the "Great Black Heaven Thunderclap Mountain" is a spirit that can control minerals, but Axiang sees nothing unclean in this cave; thinking about that evil flood dragon's death state, like killed by "infrasound" or "crystal tremor" resonance—since it's called Thunderclap Mountain, it must use some sound we can't hear to kill people; most likely "crystal tremor"; if we can pile dry corpses to a certain thickness, step on them to reach the altar without touching the cave's minerals, we could neutralize the "crystal tremor" to harmless levels; back when we saw the crystal layer above, including everywhere in the heavenly beam turned black, we ran down from the corpse pile; now thinking back, maybe that corpse pile is actually the safest place.

After Shirley Yang finished speaking, I and Pangzi discussed—rather than stay in the water slowly waiting to die, better to risk trying—maybe there's a way out; but we are some distance from the dry corpse pile, so we must use the previous method: connect the carrying straps, hang the mountaineering pick on our heads, throw it to hook distant corpses, use those eyeless dry corpses as stepping stones, muttering "no offense meant" in our mouths—but then thought language might not be understood, so we just gave up on that, laying the dry corpses layer by layer thickly—this trick actually works well, only it requires extraordinary effort, and cannot allow the slightest mistake, otherwise falling onto the crystal layer means death.

While we were busy moving those corpse after corpse, we suddenly heard from the previously calm overhead a series of crackling sounds; everyone instinctively stopped, looking up at the pitch-black void where nothing could be seen, but hearing that sound, it seems the clusters of crystal spikes on top are cracking, about to fall down.