Chapter 492: The Shedders

###**I. Reflection Banquet**

The oil lamp in the border tavern cast twisted shadows on the wall. An old farmer, his face weathered, staggered into a wooden table, the murky wine vapor splashing onto a garrison soldier's face: "Sir, I heard the newly built arrow tower in the north can shoot down a demon dragon?" His knobby, calloused fingers tapped a clay bowl, the fluorescent scales stuck to the bowl's bottom flickering in rhythm.

Soldier Wang Tie Niu squinted— the other's palm bore no callus from years of gripping a hoe, but instead bore fine marks from a bowstring. He laughed heartily, slinging an arm around the old farmer's shoulder: "You're kidding, brother, that arrow tower is just a bird‑scaring gimmick." At the clash of the wine bowls, a silver needle slipped from Wang Tie Niu's sleeve and pierced the farmer's back of the hand, the tip's blood droplet shimmering with an eerie blue.

The proprietress behind the counter suddenly knocked over a vinegar jar; as the sour mist rose, every patron's reflection froze on the wall. The old farmer's shadow was carving information into the clay bowl, while the bowl's inner side already displayed the pattern of a defensive formation. "Northern wheat wine truly intoxicates," the farmer laughed, slapping the farmer's shoulder harder, and the Fluorescent Mycelium that sprouted from his nail cracks silently pierced behind Wang Tie Niu's ear.

###**II. Shedding Interrogation**

The torch in the dungeon cast a trembling halo on the stone wall. The scout suspended by iron chains suddenly convulsed, dozens of wandering swellings rising under his skin. Lín Jìn turned his pocket watch, the gear‑clacking syncing with the swellings' writhing Pinqü. "Time to shed skin." Ao Li's sword tip pressed against the scout's brow, the Dragon‑chant Sword sensed the dark aura and emitted a hum.

Human skin split open at the crown, the sound of scales grinding making teeth ache. The shed skin floated down like an empty sack, revealing a body covered in snake scales. At the monster's throat a fragment of obsidian was set, the shard reflecting the face of Pavilion Master Xuanfeng — he was stroking a model of the northern defensive line before the sand table in Lingxiao Hall.

"You… are all living sacrifices…" As the snake‑person roared, its scales curled and expelled fluorescent spores. Ao Li swung his sword, freezing the spores in an instant, and the shard suddenly emitted black light. Lín Jìn's pocket watch sprang open on its own, the glass face reflecting a future scene: nine Shedders simultaneously poisoning the well water at various border outposts.

Black blood seeped from the dungeon's brick cracks, crawling up the snake‑person's body along the iron chain, solidifying into a countdown rune—seventy‑nine hours left until three ke into the Rat hour.

###**III. Mirror‑Web Traces**

The Mo‑family mechanical mirror hovered above the remains of a Shedders' stomach sac. Under the mirror's light, half‑digested fluorescent slime revealed thousands of miniature city‑defense models: atop each arrow tower sat a thumb‑sized Shen Mo, threading spider silk to connect defense nodes. The model of the north‑west granary suddenly burst open, countless pocket‑size snake‑people crawling out.

"They are marking energy nodes," Ao Li said, pointing his sword tip at the central sand table; the miniature crown of Pavilion Master Xuanfeng suddenly morphed into a Gate of the Shenyuan. Lín Jìn's pocket watch chain automatically coiled around the sand table, the dial displaying a scene from three years ago—his master, on the brink of death, also drawing the same formation diagram.

That night, the crossbow mechanism of the north‑west arrow tower inexplicably changed direction. When the soldiers arrived, they found a Shedders' scale jammed between the gears, its reverse side engraved: "The seventh sacrifice is in place."

###**IV. Twin Spy Shadows**

The dark lenses revealed a terrifying truth: each soldier possessed two overlapping shadows. Behind Wang Tie Niu's shadow coiled a serpentine embryo, while Lín Jìn's reflection was drawing a formation diagram in the reflection of his pocket watch. "Shedders are not singular entities," Ao Li said, crushing fluorescent scales, "they are parasites that transfer between hosts."

When they raided the granary, the Shedders were mixing fluorescent powder into the wheat pile. In the scuffle, a sack of wheat burst, the scattering grains forming a Nine‑Star Alignment in the air. Lín Jìn severed the snake‑person's left arm, the limb turning into Shen Mo's phantom, who laughed: "These rations will nurture the most beautiful sacrifice."

The deadliest discovery came from the well—every Shedders' blood sample resonated with the "Pure Water Talisman" that Pavilion Master Xuanfeng had sent three days earlier.

###**V. Cocoon Activation Moment**

At three ke into the Rat hour, the Shedders imprisoned in the dungeon suddenly sang in unison. Their song pierced the stone walls, and the garrison, tainted with fluorescent spores, began shedding en masse. Ao Li's jade pendant exploded into fragments, the core of the Dragon Soul Pearl revealing the full view of a dark altar— the entire border city was, in fact, a reflection of the altar.

Lín Jìn's pocket watch chain suddenly tightened around his own neck, the dial displaying the ultimate prophecy: when Pavilion Master Xuanfeng drops the final banner on the sand table in Lingxiao Hall, the Abyssal Gates of nine spacetime realms will open simultaneously. The city walls at that moment became ethereal, and everyone saw in the mirrored world countless snake‑people loading arrows marked with a reversed five‑star onto the crossbow mechanisms.

###**End, Shadow Kneeling**

At the highest point of Lingxiao Hall, Pavilion Master Xuanfeng removed his crown. The serpentine jade hairpin between his hair fit perfectly with the fragments in the Shedders' throats. As moonlight pierced the window lattice, his shadow detached from his body and knelt deeply toward the northern Shenyuan Gate. Within the shadow cast by the jade hairpin, nine mirror images of Ao Li were tearing open a spacetime fissure.

And within the brick cracks of the border city walls, the freshest blood curse was taking shape. It was written with Lín Jìn's pocket watch gears as the brush and Ao Li's dragon blood as ink, the most vile Burial Coffin Sacrifice prayer—"In the name of light, forge the fruit of darkness."