Where Immortals Once Walked-Chapter 200: Frenzied Opponent

One of the patrolmen on the slope was swinging his blade slower and slower, and it seemed he would soon be unable even to lift his arms. In the end, he could not withstand the tugging of several spider silk lines and was yanked clean out of the formation.

His comrades could not reach him in time. They could only watch helplessly as he tumbled down the slope and was instantly swallowed by the heaving black tide of spiders.

His shriek did not last long, but it seemed to echo inside everyone’s heads, setting their nerves on edge.

A thought pricked at He Lingchuan. Tigers and wolves kill by clamping the vitals, so death typically comes in a single bite. Spiders, on the other hand, kill with one bite after another. So how did that man die so quickly? Judging by the way he had been reeling, it was not exhaustion but poison.

Plenty of spider species carry virulent venom.

The guide quavered. “Why have the burrow spiders gone mad?”

That was a revealing bit of information. Liu Tong asked him, “They usually lair here?”

“Y-yes.” The guide’s voice was no louder than a mosquito’s, nearly drowned by the uproar on the slope. Only the two nearest men could hear him. “They’ve never bothered people.”

“Is there any way to pull those men out?” The squad on the slope was in dire straits and would not last much longer.

Spiders were converging from all directions, like flies scenting carrion. Doorboard muttered a low curse. “How many spiders does this place have?”

“They’re normally afraid of fire,” the guide managed, and his face went a shade paler.

Creatures that feared flame were now throwing themselves forward without a second thought. What exactly had bewitched them?

He Lingchuan, unbidden, thought of Dong Rui.

Could a beastmaster drive monsters and beasts to hurl themselves into a death charge like this, fearless and relentless?

Willow stared without blinking. Suddenly, she said, “I remember spiders can’t swim. Are these the same?”

“I-I don’t know,” the guide said, uncertain. “I’ve never seen these spiders go into water.”

The Guizhen Stone Forest had no shortage of water.

He Lingchuan asked, “How far to the nearest stream? One that’s sizable?”

Sweat beaded on the guide’s brow. After a brief moment of thought, he pointed west. “There’s a big pool over there, and it’s quite deep. It’s about fifty meters away. I used to take people there to draw water and rest.”

“Running water or still?”

The guide gulped. “R-running water! Two creeks feed it from upstream, to the north. It poured seven days ago. The flow should be strong now.”

“That’s the place,” Liu Tong decided on the spot. “Figure out how to cover them and bring them over.”

At a moment like this, He Lingchuan keenly missed the sand bandit’s secret incense dumpling. That was god-forsaken stuff that sent anything living fleeing. If only he could have brought it into the Panlong Dreamscape!

They were a team that had worked together for a long time. A few quick words and tasks were split.

Doorboard drew his giant axe, drew a deep breath, and said to He Lingchuan, “Ready.”

He Lingchuan flashed him a grin, poured strength into both arms, and grabbed Doorboard by the belt, heaving him up.

He had always been strong; after the imperial nectar reforged his marrow, he had grown stronger still. He threw the brawny man, who weighed over 85 kilograms, a good ten meters!

Doorboard was already shouting mid-flight, “Ride this way! There’s a way out this way!”

A live body suddenly appearing in their midst made the spiders’ assault hitch for a beat; a portion instantly peeled off and whirled toward him.

Two-plus months of throwing practice paid off. Doorboard came down right atop a bulging slab of bedrock.

He rebounded off the stone, pivoting, and leaped again.

He was not as nimble as Skinny, and he was cradling a heavy weapon, but he still cleared more than three meters.

That put him very close to the trapped squad.

They had just lost another man, and one more had gone down grievously wounded. Hearts sinking into despair, they suddenly heard the words “way out,” and joy surged through them like a spark in dry tinder.

Doorboard’s raspy, smoke-rough voice sounded lovelier to them in that moment than any opera star’s lingering aria.

He raised his giant axe high, and as he landed, he slammed it into the ground.

A deep “wong” shivered out, a bass note thrumming like a tuning fork struck on iron.

Within a radius of about ten meters, the spider army suddenly stuttered to a halt. Some even spun in place, staggering like drunks.

Doorboard barked, “Over here!”

The bass shock rattled the horses on the slope as well; one dropped to its knees on the spot. No one had time for it. They paired up, vaulted onto the other mounts, and spurred straight toward the gap behind Doorboard.

As they were about to thunder past him, Doorboard hammered the ground twice more, each blow stunning another wave of the skittering little creatures.

The technique took a toll. Doorboard’s face flushed a furious red. That low-frequency strike really was a three-stroke trump card. Once he had done all three strikes, it took a long while to recover.

Willow galloped up and hurled several bottles that were already aflame. Pale bluish smoke billowed out; spiders that rushed into it instantly wilted, flipped onto their backs, and lay there with all eight legs trembling skyward.

They had just exterminated a hive of bee monsters a few days ago, and this gas was deadly to anything with too many legs.

Seizing the opening, Doorboard bounded to Willow’s side and swung up behind her. The horse screamed and tore off at full tilt.

The mass of spiders only grew more enraged and kept hard on their heels.

They were not just swarming behind the hooves; spiders dropped out of the treetops as well, landing on men and horses and biting as soon as they could.

Just swatting those off was enough to tie everyone in knots.

Fortunately, their guide was competent. After moving thirty-odd meters, a deep pool opened up. They drove their mounts straight in, churning up sheets of spray.

The spiders did indeed balk at the water’s edge, hissing across the surface at the humans. A few, swept up in fury, tried wading in only to be caught at once by the current and washed away.

The rest milled on the bank in a heaving black ring, but there was nothing they could do.

Only then, with their hearts finally dropping back out of their throats, did the squad let out a long breath.

Doorboard slid into the pool and wrapped his arms around his horse’s head, murmuring to soothe it. “I could’ve sworn some spiders can float across water. Heaven be praised that these ones can’t.”

Willow’s face was set. “The ones you’ve seen float did it because they’re tiny. Look how big these are.”

Most spiders did not “swim” so much as rely on surface tension; their bodies were light enough to be borne up. Put them in soapy water, and they would sink immediately. However, these spiders were cat-sized, so there was no hope for surface tension to save them.

The guide shouted at the spider monsters, asking why they were attacking humans.

Most of the spiders were ordinary burrow spiders. Only the truly massive ones had crossed the line into monster-hood, and they hid near the rear. But even they did not seem too bright; they only gaped their chelicerae and hissed at him, more threat than talk.

“Douse the torches,” He Lingchuan suggested. “The light isn’t scaring them; if anything, it’s drawing aggro.”

Liu Tong did not take the advice. He only told the guide, “Head north. Lose them.”

Thanks to the rains a few days ago, the Guizhen Stone Forest was now choked with moisture; the creeks had run deeper and broader. As long as men and horses kept a healthy distance from the bank, the spiders could not threaten them. The occasional strand of webbing that arced its way was easy enough to cut or shake off.

The guide sloshed along, sometimes stumbling, sometimes finding his footing, and kept explaining as he went, “These burrow spiders eat anything, whether it be something as small as songbirds or as big as boars or bears, but they ignore people. I’ve crossed the Guizhen Stone Forest seventeen or eighteen times, and I’ve never seen them attack humans till today!”

“Why don’t they prey on people normally?”

“They’re said to be bound by the authority of the local guardian spirit, preventing them from hunting humans so long as humans don’t stir them up.” The guide sighed before saying, “There are too many burrow spiders in this stone forest. Here, they’re kings. Cross them, and they bring out the whole nest. Who’d be foolish enough to poke them?”

“Those from Baling,” Liu Tong said grimly. “No wonder they won’t enter the stone forest. They’ve already enraged the burrow spiders and are just waiting for us to walk into the trap.”

By now, the rescued men had found their voices enough to offer thanks.

They were from another unit. Midway through, the tide of spiders had gone berserk and scattered them. They had started with more than thirty men, a dozen-odd horses, and three wagons. Now only this handful remained, and their captain had already fallen.

With the threat of spiders momentarily lifted, one of the merchants suddenly toppled into the water with a splash. His companion hauled him up to find him unconscious, his cheeks puffed with swelling and a sickly green tinge blooming on his brow.

A patrolman had a bite at his neck as well, but he was only seeing spots, his heart racing, and his breath coming short.

“Poisoned.”

Spiders inject venom into prey to paralyze them, even to liquefy tissue for easier feeding. Once such creatures advance into monsters, their toxins only grow more potent. Fortunately, soldiers of Panlong City carry field kits whenever they march, and there is almost always an antidote pill inside. They hurried to tend to the wounded.

With origin energy warding their bodies, Panlong troops resist poison far better than ordinary folk. Both patrolmen and traders had been bitten, and the difference showed.

Even after taking medicine, the merchant remained comatose; only the edema slowly eased. They had no choice but to tie him to a horse. The patrolman, by contrast, improved after several dozen breaths. The pus and blood pressed from his wound turned from green to red, the vertigo faded, though his steps still wobbled.

He was a dark-skinned, wiry fellow, taciturn by the look of him. He gave only his name: Sun Jiayuan.

One of the rescued merchants rounded on Sun Jiayuan and cursed at him, “What kind of route was that? Weren’t you bragging that you knew the Guizhen Stone Forest like the back of your hand? How could you not know spiders fear water? All you did was haul us up the slopes to butt heads with those monsters! We threw away lives for nothing! We lost our goods, too!”

Sun Jiayuan’s Adam’s apple jumped. He swallowed it down.

The merchant kept ranting.

He Lingchuan noticed Sun Jiayuan’s hand had crept to his saber hilt; his face was flushed a furious red. So, this guy’s hardly got a mild temper either.

“Hey!” Willow snapped. “If the patrol hadn’t risked their lives to shield you, you’d already be a puddle of pus sucked dry into some spider’s gut.”

Just then, a green flare burst in the northwestern sky, drawing even the spiders on the bank to turn and look.

The squad saw it, too, but they did not react.

After a few dozen breaths, two red flares rose from the northeast.

A moment later, two white flares blossomed to the east.

“Signals,” Liu Tong said at last. “The main force is rallying in the northeast.” He turned to the guide. “Is there an exit on that side of the stone forest? Can we reach it by following the river?”

At the send-off assembly before departure, General Nanke issued a last-minute order: in the field, a red flare in the sky would be the rally signal. Anyone who sees it is to proceed there at once. All other flares are decoys meant to mislead the enemy.

Two red flares now meant at least two things to the patrols:

First, the sudden rampage of the burrow spiders had indeed caused major trouble for the entire army. The crashing tides of spiders had scattered many squads, and the main force was signaling to gather everyone back together.