Buzzz! Buzzz! Buzzz!!
The moment of victory ended as quickly as it had come. Wu Zhu's laughter died on his lips, turning into a sharp gasp as he caught the blur of movement from the edge of his vision.
Three more crickets lunged at him.
He dove to the side just in time, rolling across the stone floor as the beasts smashed into the spot where he had stood—a thunderous crunch echoed as their weight cracked the ground.
"Shit!" he cursed under his breath, scrambling up.
His robes fluttered with the motion, still slick with viscous black blood. His arms trembled, but now—not from fear.
Confidence surged in him. It was brittle but real.
Wu Zhu channeled his qi once more, his hands glowing with vibrant azure as he charged toward the disoriented creatures.
Boom!
Splat!
Spurt!
One by one, he struck them with precise [Stone Palm] bursts—no hesitation, no falter. Each blast exploded the crickets like overripe fruit. Their twisted limbs scattered. Chitinous shells cracked open like nuts under a hammer. The air filled with the grotesque scent of ruptured innards.
Thick, syrupy blood splattered across his chest and face. His steps faltered as the stench hit.
"Aughhh—"
He stumbled back, clutching his mouth with a trembling hand. The taste was in the air, metallic and putrid.
"This isn't something I can flex about," he gagged, nearly retching.
For a few tense moments, he stood still, hunched over, suppressing the bile rising from his stomach. The cave was silent once more. No more chirping. No more buzzing.
He collapsed beside a nearby boulder, panting hard.
The adrenaline faded. The pain in his arms returned. His bruises throbbed and his fingers ached from the raw force of his own strikes.
But… he had won.
He was alive.
He looked over at the remains of the crickets—twisted, burst-open corpses strewn across the luminous moss-covered floor. His brow furrowed as his mind drifted.
"How am I supposed to collect bodies for the count… if they explode with every hit?" he muttered to himself.
Elder Fei Yu had demanded proof. A thousand beasts. Not their blood. Not vague claims. Something tangible.
"I could try… body parts?" he mused aloud, rubbing his chin. "That might work… maybe their antennae or leg segments will do?"
With a grimace, he approached the nearest body, kneeling beside the grotesque mess. One cautious finger reached out and grazed the edge of the carcass. It was soft, squishy, and warm.
"Ugh—"
The smell hit him again.
And this time, he puked. Right there, beside the corpse, his stomach gave in. He coughed and spat until there was nothing left.
His throat burned. His eyes stung. But he didn't run.
Instead, he forced himself to calm his breath and reached forward again. With shaking hands, he detached one long, still-intact antenna and placed it carefully in his pouch.
He repeated the process two more times, taking an antenna from each of the slain beasts. It wasn't ideal—but it was something. Each antenna was half as long as his forearm, with a rigid, sharp texture.
Unfortunately, the pouch holding his spare clothes was now full of twitching insect parts.
"Guess I won't be changing into those…" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll visit the city for new ones after this trip. These are done for."
With a sigh, he stood and wiped the back of his hand against his face, smearing dried blood across his cheek. He ignored it.
There were no more enemies nearby.
That worried him.
His fear hadn't vanished completely. It had simply become quiet and controlled. But deep inside, something gnawed at him.
"It's too quiet."
He moved deeper into the cavern, posture more upright now. He walked with firmer steps, his body more prepared. His senses sharp. His eyes constantly scanned the walls and ceiling, his ears alert to the faintest tremor in the air.
The bioluminescent glow continued to light his path, but the shadows felt longer. Denser. The cold grew deeper, biting through his robes like fangs.
Minutes passed. He passed through another tunnel, winding tighter, narrower. Still no sign of beasts.
That gnawing feeling grew stronger.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood.
Something was wrong.
The cave was not empty. He knew it.
It was watching him.
He stopped suddenly. The cold air thickened. His breath fogged as he looked up—drawn by a feeling he couldn't explain.
And there it was.
Above him.
Pressed flat against the jagged ceiling like some nightmarish shadow, was a massive creature—two meters in length, easily dwarfing him.
Its body was segmented into six thick abdominal parts, covered in a pale, bone-like exoskeleton. Three pairs of hooked, spiny legs clung to the ceiling like anchors. A thick, barbed tail coiled behind it like a whip.
Its antennae moved slowly, delicately feeling the air. Its eyes glowed faintly with a hue that matched the cave's eerie lighting—yet they were not gentle. They were old. Intelligent.
A Springtail Beast.
And unlike the crickets…
This one exuded Tempered Realm aura.
Wu Zhu's breath caught in his throat. He stepped back. And the creature moved.
The tail twitched. The legs shifted. It uncoiled its body slowly, with a fluid grace that belied its size.
The illusion of safety shattered in an instant.
BOOM!
The Springtail Beast exploded forward like a javelin of fury, and this time—Wu Zhu couldn't move.
The beast struck with the force of a catapult. The impact felt like a mountain crashing into him.
CRACK!
His frail body was flung like a ragged scroll tossed by the wind, crashing through the jagged cave wall with a bone-jarring smash, shattering rocks as he slammed into the stone behind.
He vomited water.
His body dropped to the ground, limp and twitching.
Pain stabbed through every fiber of his being—his ribs screamed in protest, and his vision spun like a broken compass.
He coughed, trying to suck in air—but every breath felt like swallowing knives. His knees hit the ground with a hollow thud.
Yet there was no time. The beast didn't wait.
With a monstrous hiss, the Springtail slammed its barbed abdominal tail—furcula against the stone and launched itself again—twice as fast.
Wu Zhu's dulled eyes saw the blur of death streaking toward him.
His feet refused to budge. His heart pounded like a war drum. His thoughts fractured.
His body wouldn't listen. His soul froze. Sweat streamed. Tears fell.
A glistening trail of sorrow rolled down his cheek as the Springtail slammed into him again—
CRACK!!
Two sharp legs tore through the flesh of his right arm. Bone shattered. Skin tore.
"AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
A sound of pure agony erupted from his throat, twisted and raw—so brutal it echoed against the cave walls.
But the beast wasn't done.
With malicious precision, the Springtail whipped its barbed tail, striking Wu Zhu's face, flinging his battered form across the stone like refuse.
He hit the ground again with a sickening smack, bouncing like a discarded doll.
Still impaled.
The beast stepped over him, its armored legs grinding into his wounded arm with sadistic pressure, rotating its limb inside him.
Blood gushed, black and hot, soaking his robes and staining the cold cave floor.
He couldn't even scream anymore.
Only hoarse gasps escaped his lips. His eyes began to dull. He was dying. Again. The second time… Just like last time.
The wind howled through the cave, cold and biting. And as he writhed, barely conscious, the memories came.
The centipede.
The grotesque, slithering creature that had mauled him before.
How it had coiled around him. How it had torn into his skin like paper. How his screams back then had echoed too, unanswered.
But the most vivid part? It hadn't even looked at Zheng Xie.
Not once.
The realization hit him like a lightning bolt.
'Why didn't it attack him?'
His vision blurred again. His teeth clenched.
The image of Zheng Xie, untouched, standing proud while Wu Zhu had been dismembered like trash, flashed before his eyes.
'Because he was stronger. Because I was the weakest prey. Because I was the easiest kill.'
And now here he was, again. Bleeding. Screaming. Dying.
His nails dug into the stone, grating against it.
'Why… is it always me?!'
'Why do I always have to be the one crawling?!'
His heart screamed, louder than his voice ever could.
'I'm done being pathetic.'
His head pounded. His blood surged. Something ancient within him awakened.
Then—
A blinding light erupted from his forehead.
FWOOOOOM!!
A searing, fiery symbol burned into existence—a swirling circle of white, encompassing a blazing fire—branded upon his forehead skin.
The cave trembled.
The Springtail shrieked and leapt backward, its sharp instincts screaming danger.
It watched, eyes glowing, as Wu Zhu—bloody, broken Wu Zhu—began to rise.
The wound in his arm…
It began to close.
Muscle regrew. Skin knit itself together. In mere breaths, the gaping hole vanished—leaving not even a scar.
His face was still bruised. His robes soaked in gore. But his eyes… they burned.
They no longer held fear. They held fire.
His breathing evened out, and he rose with eerie calm.
The beast growled.
Wu Zhu's fingers clenched into a fist, his knuckles cracking.
He whispered—
"I don't want to live in shame anymore."
"I won't be a joke."
His qi pulsed around him like a quiet, stormy flame. The Springtail circled, wary now.
Wu Zhu took a step forward.
And as though a dam had burst within him, his qi surged forth, wild and untamed. It flooded through his meridians with such force he momentarily staggered—yet in the next breath, it obeyed.
Obeyed him.
The next instant, his entire body was encased in armor—stone-like and jagged, mirroring the rough surface of the cave walls. Earthen patterns coiled around his limbs, forming a natural defense.
[Stone Armor] — Proficient Stage!
The air thickened. His presence deepened.
Wu Zhu vanished from where he stood. His body blurred into motion, silent and precise—like a falling leaf caught in a gentle breeze. Each step taken held uncanny balance and refined rhythm, allowing him to glide across the uneven terrain as if walking across flat stone.
[Steady Step] — Proficient Stage!
With a single breath, he appeared before the Springtail, their eyes locking.
He smiled—not cruelly, not arrogantly—but with calm conviction.
His hand began to glow.
With elegance, he raised his palm mid-stride, qi swirling in a spiral at its center like a miniature vortex.
And just at the last moment—
He twisted it into a fist.
CRASH!!
The impact sent a deafening boom throughout the cavern. The Springtail was launched like a cannonball, its carapace cracking under the force as it slammed into the cave wall, leaving a jagged crater in its wake.
[Stone Palm] — Proficient Stage!
Shards of its shattered exoskeleton clattered to the ground.
The beast twitched, and for the first time—it hesitated.
It was hurt. And worse—it was scared.
Its instincts screamed danger. This human was no longer a plaything. He was death in motion.
The Springtail let out a keening screech and fled, its furcula slamming against the stone ground to launch its segmented body into the darkness. It darted through the winding caverns with frantic speed, bouncing off the walls with desperate agility.
But it was too late.
Wu Zhu calmly watched the creature's retreating figure, and a slow, satisfied smile spread across his blood-streaked face.
"Now," he whispered, his voice low and resolute, "you are the prey."
He stepped forward, then blurred again—this time, pushing his speed to the limit. His qi streamed around him like trailing ribbons, and his Stone Armor glimmered faintly under the bioluminescent glow of the surrounding cave flora.
He chased.
Through stalactite forests and over moss-covered stones, the hunt led him toward the edge of a river—a subterranean stream, its waters flowing with quiet persistence through the belly of the mountain.
Wu Zhu paused, narrowing his eyes.
For a moment, he wondered if it might be a spiritual river. But there was no resonance, no vitality in the waters. It was just a river—cold, regular, and unremarkable.
He returned his gaze to the Springtail, who now stood hesitating at the edge.
It looked at the river. Then at him. Back at the river. Then at him again.
It knew. There were only two choices:
Jump…
…or die.
Its legs flexed. Its antennae twitched. It prepared to leap.
But Wu Zhu was already there.
With a flicker of qi and a silent burst of momentum, he grabbed one of its legs mid-jump.
"You're not escaping."
He spun his body and hurled the beast back to the stone with a vicious slam.
BOOM!
The cave trembled.
The Springtail landed hard, skidding across the floor—twitching, its body broken and trembling. Before it could gather itself, Wu Zhu stood above it, his qi-charged palm raised.
He didn't hesitate.
Once.
BAM!
Twice.
CRACK!
Thrice.
SPLAT!!
With each strike, the creature's form shattered further, its innards bursting in every direction. Greenish ichor coated Wu Zhu's robes. Chunks of insect flesh scattered like shattered pottery.
And this time… He didn't gag. He didn't turn away.
He grinned—blood staining his teeth, ichor on his face.
He stood over the mangled corpse, chest rising and falling, the cave silent but for the echo of his breath.
"Hah…ha…Hahahahahahahahaha!!"
He laughed. A deep, cathartic laugh—not of insanity, but release.
He had conquered. He was alive. He was strong. And for the first time—
He was truly, utterly and unfathomably happy.