Chapter Nine: The Enemy Approaches

The dried meat had grown cold again. Though Six Ugly rekindled the campfire, his heart was no longer in it. Instead, he shoved the meat into his mouth and chewed. It was neither particularly salty nor palatable, with a pungent, fishy taste, but he paid it no mind.

Once he had finished eating, Six Ugly leaned against the tree trunk and began to nap lightly. The journey ahead was long, and he needed to conserve his strength. The night deepened. Six Ugly did not truly sleep—he hovered in a half-dream, half-wakefulness—while Golden Eyes, lying beside him, snored thunderously. Who could fathom how a creature made purely of mechanisms could sleep so soundly?

Suddenly, faint, hurried footsteps approached from afar. Six Ugly reacted instantly, his vigilance acute; he rolled to his feet in a flash. Beside him, Golden Eyes snapped open, fur bristling, rising to scan the surroundings.

The fire had burned low, and the glow from the embers barely illuminated the area. Six Ugly peered at the shadows, but saw nothing clearly. Moreover, once he moved, the sound in the forest vanished entirely—silence fell.

He began searching in the direction of the initial sound, but found nothing. Even listening carefully revealed no clue. He was about to search elsewhere when he stopped abruptly, his gaze falling upon tiny droplets of water scattered across the ground.

The air was dry, no rain, no mist; grass, trees, and rocks nearby were parched. Yet here was water—strange indeed. Six Ugly carefully pinched a bit of the damp earth, brought it to his nose, and immediately caught a faint, fishy stench.

The residue of some monster's saliva!

Stealthy approach, murderous intent—its purpose was clear without words.

The hairs on Six Ugly's body stood on end. He swung his staff in a sweeping arc beside him, then reversed it with a practiced motion, finally saying in a low voice to Golden Eyes, "This fiend can conceal itself..."

Before he finished speaking, the light beneath a nearby tree suddenly warped, and a blurred silhouette appeared as if conjured from a dream—then vanished. In that instant, Six Ugly shot forward like an arrow, his iron-staff weapon slashing fiercely at the empty air, thunderous in force.

Blood sprayed forth!

With a shrill howl, a creature—a grotesque fusion of serpent and human—revealed itself, staggering back, clutching an arm bent at a sharp angle.

Six Ugly's lips twitched unconsciously. He stepped forward, thrusting his iron-staff weapon straight into the monster's chest. The stench was overwhelming, but Six Ugly pressed onward, pinning the creature against the tree with sheer force. With a sickening crack, the staff pierced through ribs and muscle, emerging on the other side.

Blood spilled down the staff. Before the serpent-man could die, Six Ugly yanked the weapon free and swept it toward another.

With a heavy thud, another serpent-man was knocked several yards away, crashing into a tree.

Serpent-men began appearing in succession, their numbers growing. Though not as strong as Six Ugly, their sheer quantity pressed him hard. His expression twisted into a snarl as he fought, his iron staff swinging wide and wild, breaking bones and shattering limbs, leaving serpent-men writhing everywhere.

Golden Eyes was not idle either, leaping into the fray, crushing and tearing serpent-men with its massive form.

Their assault was sudden, seemingly without cause. Six Ugly had no desire for trouble, but that did not mean he would let himself be slaughtered. This ambush ignited the demonic blood within him.

"Die!"

Six Ugly roared, sweeping his iron staff. The force sliced a serpent-man's torso diagonally, sending it flying. The lower half toppled, and Six Ugly kicked it aside.

He had no time for words. The serpent-men multiplied, arrows occasionally whistling his way, making defense increasingly difficult. Alone, he could handle them, but faced with such numbers, even he struggled.

Suddenly, he leapt toward Golden Eyes. Behind Golden Eyes, the air shimmered and a serpent-man appeared, its black spear thrusting for Golden Eyes' hind leg joint. Had it struck true, Golden Eyes would lose mobility, but before the spear could reach its mark, Six Ugly descended from above, staff knocking it aside. Golden Eyes turned and struck, smashing the serpent-man into the mud.

Individually, these serpent-fiends were not formidable; most were mere second- or third-tier monsters, with a rare fourth-tier. Their bizarre stealth tactics required effort to counter, but the payoff was clear—their bodies contained demon cores.

Surrounded by corpses, Six Ugly immediately began extracting the cores. Golden Eyes, excited, dug out the cores and swallowed them whole, eager to stock up.

Six Ugly stopped it, putting two mangled corpses into his storage realm, tossing two demon cores to Golden Eyes. "Let me do it," he said.

His knife flashed, extracting the cores quickly. Most he kept, a few he tossed to Golden Eyes, who obediently waited nearby.

Thirty-odd serpent corpses—neither too many nor too few—were quickly stripped of their demon cores. This sudden encounter made Six Ugly realize trouble was brewing. He did not linger, instead tidying up, erasing what traces he could. Finally, he nailed the corpses of two fourth-tier serpent-fiends to a tree, splitting them open in a blatant challenge.

The serpent-men were surely more numerous than this. Since war had begun, the best outcome was to slaughter them all, eliminating future threats.

He did not seek trouble, but neither would he flee. The situation had escalated; why not see it through? Demon cores would keep coming, and whether for alchemy or as seed capital, they were invaluable—why waste the opportunity?

In a single thought, Six Ugly's resolve shifted.

The reasons for his change were many: perhaps the serpent-fiends' aggression, perhaps the allure of demon cores, or perhaps a sudden souring of his mood. Yet the true, decisive factor was the contrast between their strength and the rewards they yielded.

Weakness is a crime in itself.

※

Not long after Six Ugly and Golden Eyes departed, several serpent-men arrived at the pile of corpses. A towering, four-armed serpent-fiend glared at the nailed bodies, unleashing an enraged roar.

It had become a python.

At its howl, more serpent-men emerged from the dense forest, gathering together. Among them, one carried a tightly bound female fiend—the very one Six Ugly had seen earlier. She remained unconscious, deep in sleep.

Capturing the fleeing female alive was a great feat for the python-fiend, but splitting his forces—some to pursue, some to intercept—had resulted in his kin being slain and their cores taken. This left him with no explanation for his superiors. The python-fiend had fought demon hunters before and recognized the wounds as distinctly human. The enemy was few, but formidable—and had already escaped.

The python-fiend sniffed the nailed corpse, noting an unfamiliar scent. He lifted the body, letting all serpent-men inhale its aroma.

For the serpent-fiends, this trace was enough to track their enemy for miles, until they caught and killed him.

Vengeance is the instinct of all creatures—be they human, beast, or demon. Their reasons may be countless, but beneath it all lies the desire for their kind’s survival and the fear of annihilation.

A chorus of hissing cries rose.

The serpent-fiends began to track the scent. They were not the strongest creatures in the forest, but certainly savage enough to pose trouble for anyone. Serpent-kind’s instincts bound them in clans, obedient to powerful leaders, living by a particular order. Most who survived among them had already transformed into minor demons, their strength ranging from second to third tier, with a few reaching fourth or fifth. Their numbers alone made them capable of hunting any enemy they might encounter.

Deep in the forest, Six Ugly’s figure moved swiftly atop Golden Eyes.

As a demon who had grown up in these wild mountains, Six Ugly was no stranger to the terrain. He sought a place more suitable for ambush. The foes he’d met were not strong, but he knew those still to come would be different. In such tribal demon groups, the leader’s followers were always elite. He hadn’t encountered the chief python-fiend yet, so those pursuing him must be the strongest—this was certain.

He and Golden Eyes together could handle thirty-odd second- and third-tier demons, but not ten or more fourth- and fifth-tier ones, plus a leader who might break through to sixth or seventh. To wipe them out, he’d need traps and cunning.

Six Ugly kept his strength well, and Golden Eyes, bolstered by demon cores, suffered little fatigue.

The mechanical beast’s robust form preserved Six Ugly’s advantage. After racing dozens of miles through the forest, the serpent-fiends’ speed began to flag. The trees and vines taxed both sides, draining even demons. Six Ugly, riding Golden Eyes, conserved himself as much as possible.

The python-fiend, following the deliberate traces Six Ugly had left, closed the distance in fury, heedless of exhaustion, obsessed with revenge and the ever-fresh signs ahead.

The terrain ahead opened up—the mountain forest ended, and a sheer peak rose before them. Vertical cliffs, some broken with ledges, barred the way. At the base, Six Ugly dismounted, quickly stowed Golden Eyes in his storage realm, and began to climb.

Apes and serpent-pythons, among the crawling fiends, possessed innate climbing skills of varying degrees.

Six Ugly scaled the cliff rapidly, soon reaching a boulder more than ten yards above the ground. The area was small; he could climb higher or swing across the ledge to another place via vines.

He drew from his realm a hand crossbow—refined twice, now imbued with poison, powered by demon cores. This was its first appearance.

High above, with open terrain—what could be more advantageous for a crossbow?

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