Chapter Thirty-Four: Victory

The two monsters clashed fiercely for dozens of rounds, their battle rolling back to the path they had come. Bai Yejiu’s attacks surged like waves, yet he never found the perfect moment to bind or bite Qingmei, while Qingmei, for a time, had no strength to counterattack and could only tangle with him.

As Qingmei once again dodged Bai Yejiu’s sudden strike, twisting aside to avoid him, Bai Yejiu suddenly opened his mouth wide, demonic power swirling. A blast of black smoke erupted from his maw, shrouding Qingmei’s entire body.

Qingmei’s body convulsed violently, his limbs went limp, and he collapsed to the ground. Bai Yejiu immediately wrapped himself around Qingmei, binding him tightly, circle upon circle, as if encased in iron bands.

Without a word, Bai Yejiu opened his mouth wide, swallowing Qingmei’s head, shoulders, and chest, beginning to devour him.

At that very moment, smoke burst from Qingmei’s body—just as it had during the duel in the arena. Then, after the smoke cleared, instead of an empty skin, Bai Yejiu found a long spear lodged between his jaws!

Such a sudden reversal, though Bai Yejiu and Qingmei had sparred countless times, was utterly unexpected.

A flash of white streaked through the air, slicing past Bai Yejiu’s back. Then, a thin red line appeared across his neck, growing wider. With a crack, Bai Yejiu’s head snapped off and bounced to the ground, then sprang upward.

A foot landed, pressing the head down, and its owner gazed into Bai Yejiu’s disbelieving pupils.

“Surprised?” Qingmei’s figure emerged, still stained with blood, but the wound at his waist was gone. He grinned bitterly. “You always wondered why, when I was rewarded, I chose a long spear even though I wield a sword. Now, do you understand?”

“This spear, the spear…”

Qingmei nodded, glancing at the twisting snake body. “Yes, this spear. It seems useless to me, but it lets me shed my skin.”

“How did you guess…I was going to…”

“Guess you’d attack?” Qingmei squinted and slowly raised his sword, aiming at the snake’s forehead. “I never guessed. I was always on guard.”

“I see… I see…” Bai Yejiu’s pupils faded, his snake head convulsing. “If… if…”

“If it were Liu Chou?” Qingmei suddenly smiled. “If it were him, perhaps he wouldn’t ambush me, and perhaps I wouldn’t guard against him. But who can say, unless it’s been tried?”

With that, Qingmei thrust his sword heavily into Bai Yejiu’s head. Bai Yejiu didn’t even struggle—he died instantly. As the last blood seeped from the sword’s seams, Qingmei murmured,

“Monsters are not the same.”

“At least, him—I’m ninety percent sure he wouldn’t.”

“After all, though he’s not kind, he has feelings.”

After tidying up, Qingmei hurried away without pause.

Liu Chou had not moved the whole time; only when Qingmei had vanished did he emerge from hiding, gathering Bai Yejiu’s corpse into his gourd-world, sighing as he turned to leave.

Liu Chou felt it keenly: in this marshland, he had lost something forever.

But at the same time, he had gained something.

Living in this world is hard; understanding it is harder; hardest of all is understanding oneself.

He seemed to vaguely grasp it.

He thought for a moment, began refining the seven corpses in his gourd, and then started on his way home.

Twelve hours later, twenty-eight little monsters returned to the Bixi mechanical beast, while twelve would remain forever in the marsh.

Yet the survivors brought back over a hundred heads. Liu Chou, with twenty-six, ranked first in the group, Qingmei’s nine earned him third. Seeing the rankings, Liu Chou recalled Bai Yejiu, wondering if, together, they might have made the top ten.

The soldiers had already taken rations from the beast, offering food to the monsters before their return. After an hour’s rest, they would depart.

Once he had his food, Qingmei approached Liu Chou, tapping his shoulder and quietly handing him half a roasted chicken.

“Did you sneak this out of camp again?” Liu Chou took the chicken and began devouring it. Qingmei’s habit of pilfering food was well known, and Liu Chou never asked.

“Mm,” Qingmei smiled, pulling out the other half and tearing into it. “Bai Yejiu is dead.”

“I know,” Liu Chou chewed, not wanting Qingmei to know he had watched their fight from hiding. “He didn’t return, so naturally he’s dead.”

“Why don’t you ask how he died?” Qingmei glanced sideways.

“If you want to tell, you will. If not, you’ll lie. What’s the point of asking?”

Qingmei chuckled softly. “He tried to ambush me, so I killed him.”

“Mm,” Liu Chou said little, took a water flask and gulped, then handed it to Qingmei. “Why?”

“He wanted a head, to make the top ten,” Qingmei’s chewing paused as he turned to Liu Chou. “If it were you, would you think I was too ruthless?”

Liu Chou shook his head decisively. “I’d do the same. If someone makes a move, one must die.”

“I thought so too, so I killed him,” Qingmei said, continuing to tear at the chicken. But after a few bites, he suddenly asked, “If you wanted the top ten, would you kill me?”

Liu Chou pondered, shook his head, and replied honestly, “I don’t know…” He thought again. “I don’t know what the reward is.”

“Hm? What do you mean?” Qingmei was puzzled.

Liu Chou suddenly grinned, both eyes squinting. “If the reward let me ascend and become immortal, maybe I would. But if not, I’d rather have meat from you every day—it’s delicious!”

“Haha…” Qingmei understood and laughed too.

Soon, the Bixi mechanical beast set out with the monsters for the return journey. Compared to the way there, its belly was emptier. The top-ranked monsters from the hunt sat cross-legged on the floor, while the weaker ones stood quietly as before.

When the four beasts converged, the rankings were announced. First was still Yuan Qin, the insect monster, who had collected forty-six heads; second was Zan Wulang, with thirty-four, while Zan Wubei had only five, presumably given to Zan Wulang. Liu Chou ranked seventh with twenty-six heads; Qingmei did not make the top ten, barely reaching twentieth.

Of the 180 monsters who set out, only 139 returned, drawing closer to the hundred mark. Yet the remaining opponents were ever stronger.

The weak had long since been eliminated, and the competition of the next half year would be even more brutal.

Jian Kang gathered the top ten monsters into one mechanical beast under his lead, while the others were packed into the remaining three. The four beasts began together, but halfway through, one veered off toward an unknown destination.

After nearly four more hours of travel, the monsters saw a long row of buildings on the horizon. As they drew near, they saw two large and two small flying ships beside the houses, and nearby, a giant pit.

The pit’s bottom was chaotic, churned earth and bones everywhere, heaps of battered weapons and armor, flags, beast wreckage, statues, arrows, and bows. Hundreds of soldiers and monsters rummaged through the debris, occasionally sending up unusual items to the houses.

The pit was vast, thousands of feet across—a site of ancient battles, buried under countless layers, still not exhausted.

The Bixi beast stopped, and the monsters filed out. Before they were all out, a pale figure floated down beside the beast. Jian Kang hurried forward to salute. “Greetings, Master of the Valley.”

It was none other than the valley lord, seen once at the tournament.

The valley lord was kindly. Seeing Jian Kang’s salute, he waved it off, glanced at the gathered monsters, and said softly, “Are these the top ten of your Yanpeng company?”

“Indeed, I brought them to choose weapons or martial arts,” Jian Kang nodded.

“Very well, proceed as usual,” said the valley lord. “When you’re finished, come to me.”

“Yes…” Jian Kang paused, then quickly added, “It’ll only take a moment here. Would the valley lord care to wait?”

“That’s fine.” He said nothing more and waited as Jian Kang handled matters.

Jian Kang wasted no time, turning to the monsters and announcing loudly, “This is where rewards are given. If you want to choose a weapon, enter that building,” he pointed to a tall house with open doors, inside piles of weapons and armor, evidently well-preserved from the valley. “If you want martial arts, go to the other building.”

The other house was smaller, filled with bamboo slips and scrolls, neatly arranged on shelves, with someone recording entries. These were not from the pit but seemed a library of the valley.

He finished, then asked, “Any questions?”

“Teacher, I have a question.”

As soon as he finished, Yuan Qin spoke up. In the past three months, the teacher had allowed questions, so it was habit, though permission was required first.

“Speak.”

“Teacher, I’ve looked over all the weapons in the warehouse. They’re too big, and I don’t want to study martial arts right now. What should I do?” Yuan Qin was straightforward.

Yuan Qin’s true form was well known—a bee-like creature, but much larger. In human form, he looked like a child of three or four, shorter than Liu Chou. Human weapons were far too big, so he had previously chosen a short dagger as a long sword. Now, the issue had Jian Kang troubled.

As he pondered, the valley lord laughed. “Jian Kang, we overlooked this. We only collected items usable by humans and neglected those discarded by spirits—never thought of our own valley’s children. You never mentioned it.”

“Master, it’s a small matter, not worth troubling you,” Jian Kang smiled. “It’s easily solved—have the soldiers gather some suitable ones, clean and repair them.”

“Good, that will do. But for today, why not let them search the pit themselves? These are things no one else needs—they might suit them.”

“Understood.” Jian Kang bowed, then addressed Liu Chou, Yuan Qin, and the other small monsters. “Did you hear the valley lord? You three go search the pit for suitable weapons. Now…” He waved his hand. “Any other issues?”

“No!”

The monsters replied in unison.

“Go, then!”

“Yes!”