The Leech King's Cruelty
"What do we do... Mana is... completely... drained..." Li Shulai gasped, his voice hoarse and dry, carrying a near-hysterical whimper he didn't even notice. The wounds on his back were numb, but the icy paralysis was quickly spreading throughout his body.
Chen Ruipeng remained silent, but his arms, usually as steady as bedrock, now trembled violently—a precursor to utter physical collapse beyond the breaking point. He bit down hard, blood seeping from his gums.
He Lingxuan looked at Lin Yan, who was lying faintly in the mud, seemingly close to drawing his last breath, then at her two equally exhausted and wounded comrades. Her heart plummeted into a bone-chilling, lightless abyss.
The battle had devolved into a gruesome, static siege. Li Shulai and Chen Ruipeng were now forced back-to-back, their attacks slowed, the gaps in their defense appearing frequently. The Leech King, having secured its victim, seemed to lose its urgency. It didn't immediately kill Lin Yan; instead, it slowly lifted its gigantic head, presenting the gruesome sight of the gnawed, bleeding forearm to the others.
The sheer insolence of the act enraged Li Shulai. "Bastard! Die!" he screamed, lunging forward with a desperate thrust. The sword was dull, devoid of its former silver luster.
The Leech King didn't dodge. It simply contracted the thick, red-patterned muscles around its body. The sword tip, which should have pierced its hide, scraped harmlessly across its back, producing a shower of tiny sparks and a sound like metal grinding against rock. The King then let out a low, mocking jii-jii sound, and with a lazy flick of its tail, slammed a wave of mud and water directly into Li Shulai's face.
"It's playing with us!" Chen Ruipeng roared, his massive axe slamming down onto the mud nearby, crushing a dozen smaller leeches in frustration.
He Lingxuan's mind screamed for a solution. She knew the previous Corrosion Pills were ineffective. Driven by a frantic mix of panic and profound guilt over Lin Yan's sacrifice—he had saved her, and she could only watch him die—she reached for her belt. She found two vials: one containing highly concentrated acid, the other a neurotoxin reserved for high-level beasts. They were her absolute last resort.
"Forgive me, Lin Yan," she whispered, the raw shame making her eyes burn. She tossed the vials with perfect accuracy, aiming for the King's head.
The acid splashed, momentarily dissolving the mud on the King's hide, revealing the tough, dark chitin underneath. The neurotoxin, which should have caused violent spasms, merely made the massive creature twitch its head once, as if annoyed by a fly. It had assimilated too much of the swamp's chaotic energy; common poisons were now nearly useless.
"No... no more..." He Lingxuan sank to her knees, her body convulsing with exhaustion, her resource bag empty. The realization hit them all: they had used every trick, every ounce of power, and every pill, and they were still nowhere near defeating this creature.
The Weight of Guilt and The Signal
The despair became a suffocating physical presence.
Li Shulai, seeing his final lunge fail and He Lingxuan collapse, felt a terrible weight crush his spirit. He looked at Lin Yan, motionless in the mud, his sacrifice a searing accusation. "If only I hadn't argued... If only I had listened to his warning about conserving Mana, we might have had the strength for one clean retreat!" The thought hammered against his mind, turning his exhaustion into bitter, self-loathing agony.
Chen Ruipeng's face was smeared with blood, mud, and his own tears of frustration. He stood guard, his axe trembling, his breathing harsh. His shame was rooted in his physical inability. He was the shield, the wall of the team, yet he had been too slow, too entangled by the petty enemies to protect the weakest member. A failure of strength was a failure of duty.
At this moment, the Leech King paused entirely. It slowly rotated its enormous, dark-red body, its focus shifting from the wounded prey (Lin Yan) to the two utterly spent warriors (Li Shulai and Chen Ruipeng). It could sense their Mana flicker and their muscles seize. The King let out a deep, resonant GLLUURRKKK that was not merely a sound, but a command that resonated through the dense water.
The entire swamp responded. The thick gray mist suddenly descended lower, growing colder and heavier, restricting their already limited visibility even further. The water surrounding their small patch of firm ground began to boil faster and more violently, and the mass of common leeches paused their sporadic attacks, gathering closer into a tightly packed, lethal ring.
The King raised its head, its razor-toothed maw twitching with anticipation. It was giving its army the final signal: prepare the feast. The three cultivators were completely surrounded, completely defenseless, and the King was about to initiate the final, coordinated attack that would crush their defensive island once and for all. The moment of absolute, total defeat was upon them.
The Whisper of Fate
Just in this suffocating moment, when thought itself seemed frozen by despair—
The figure in the mud, seemingly unconscious and as still as a corpse, twitched almost imperceptibly, a slight spasm.
Lin Yan's fingers curled, digging weakly into the cold silt. He managed to lift his head just a fraction of an inch. On his face, smeared with mud and blood, his eyes—which had been dull and unfocused from the extreme poison and pain—forced themselves to coalesce a faint, weak spark of light. He used his last, remaining shred of willpower to fight against the venom and the darkness that threatened to consume his consciousness. The corrosive venom was now a burning, freezing presence in his chest, making every beat of his heart feel like a struggle against cement. He knew he was dying, but his Augury—his Qi-gazing ability—was still faintly active, a final, flickering gift of life. He couldn't die here—at least... he couldn't let them die here too.
His lips moved, emitting a barely audible whisper of air. Closest to him, He Lingxuan keenly registered the subtle movement. She instantly crouched down, pushing past her despair, fear, and profound sense of personal failure. She brought her ear close to Lin Yan's lips.
"...He... He... Student..." The voice was thin as a thread, ready to break at any moment.
"I'm here! I'm here! Lin Yan!" He Lingxuan urgently replied, her voice trembling with an uncontrolled mix of fear and desperation. The sound of his voice, however faint, was the most precious thing she had ever heard.
Lin Yan's pupils had begun to dilate. In broken gasps, using the last of his strength, he uttered the final observation he had bought with his life:
"It... fears... fire..."
He Lingxuan felt a shock course through her—fire? A water creature? It was illogical, yet it came from the source that had predicted the entire disaster.
"Three inches... above... the sucker mouth... there is... a faint... gray-white... line..."
"That is... that is... the weak spot..."
"Attack... attack..."
Lin Yan's head fell weakly to the side, and he completely lost consciousness. Only the extremely faint rise and fall of his chest proved he still held a sliver of life.
The Burning Hope
He Lingxuan snapped her head up. All the previous panic and despair in her eyes were instantly suppressed, replaced by a fierce, sharp brilliance mixed with grief, anger, and absolute resolve! She had her direction. She had the key. Lin Yan had used his life to give them the final piece of the puzzle. She used every ounce of strength remaining to scream out the life-bought intelligence, her voice piercing through the battlefield's clamor:
"The Leech King fears FIRE! Its weak spot is a gray-white line, three inches above its sucker mouth!!"
This information was like a weak flicker of fire ignited in endless darkness!
Li Shulai and Chen Ruipeng's spirits jolted violently!
"Fire?! I'll give you a fight to the death!" Li Shulai roared savagely. The paltry Mana remaining in his body circulated madly in an unprecedented manner, pouring entirely into his long sword! He recalled the logic Lin Yan had explained about Mana conservation—now he was doing the opposite, burning everything left in a desperate, final, sacrificial attempt. The blade instantly became scorching hot and glowed a fiery crimson, radiating intense heat! He no longer focused on technique, but concentrated all his strength, all his rage, and all his hope into this single strike, transforming his Mana into a burning sword aura of flame. Recklessly, utterly disregarding his own life, he targeted the Poison Leech King that was still clamped to Lin Yan, aiming directly for that faint, flickering gray-white line above its sucker mouth!
"KILL!!!" Chen Ruipeng roared a thundering, dying-beast bellow. A layer of abnormal, blood-red light, as if burning his very life force, faintly pulsed across his giant axe! He infused his final reserves of power, the oath to protect his teammates, and his monumental hatred for the monster into the blow. He cleaved the axe not with skill, but with the purest form of strength and despair. He fiercely carved the final, narrow, and bloody path through the dense leech tide, creating a window for Li Shulai's life-or-death strike!
The burning sword aura, carrying the tragic momentum of a warrior marching to a shared grave, tore through the thick mist, vaporized the swamp humidity, and shot precisely toward the gray-white line—the single point symbolizing their only chance at survival!