Chapter Twenty-Six: The Serpent of Bosque

As the four of them had just stepped into the cave entrance, Yuan Ye immediately instructed the other three to walk behind him while he took the lead. He gathered his inner energy, quietly circulating his strength to guard against any possible ambush.

Suddenly, a strange hiss echoed from the depths of the cave, followed by a howling gale. The stench was overpowering, assaulting their senses.

“What a cunning beast!” Yuan Ye shouted, stamping his foot as he leapt back several steps. At the same time, he channeled his energy, turning to strike behind him with a Wudang Soft Palm. The blow landed upon Xiong Da, Xiong Er, and Skinny Monkey, sending them flying out of the cave under an invisible force. As they flew, Yuan Ye’s voice came to their ears: “Guard the entrance—there are sure to be more of this creature’s brood outside.”

It wasn’t until they clearly heard this command that the three finally came to their senses. Looking around, they realized they were already at the mouth of the cave. Exchanging silent glances, they felt a renewed awe for their young master’s unfathomable martial prowess. Excitement and delight welled up within them; with a master of such skill, even learning a fraction of his techniques would benefit them for a lifetime.

As for Yuan Ye, the reason he had swiftly sent the three out of the cave was because he had already glimpsed the true face of the hidden attacker. It was a massive serpent, thick as a barrel, coiled within the hundred-square-meter cavern like a living mountain of flesh. Its scales shimmered with a faint golden light; atop its head grew fleshy horns, and its head darted with the swiftness of the wind.

Most striking were its eyes—pupils of dark gold that flashed with an almost human intelligence. When its ambush failed, the serpent’s head snapped back with lightning speed.

Free from concern for his companions’ safety, Yuan Ye now lifted his gaze to scrutinize the cavern. Though the light was dim, nothing escaped his keen eyes. He saw the giant serpent’s colossal coils spread across the floor, thick as logs. Its head rose high, nearly touching the ten-meter-high ceiling, and those golden, vertical pupils glared at Yuan Ye with pure, violent intent.

After a moment’s observation, the savagery in the serpent’s gaze slowly faded, replaced by a glimmer of awareness. Its head swayed from side to side, as if questioning why Yuan Ye had disturbed its slumber.

“Heh, little serpent, have you forgotten the Divine Eagle? For decades you’ve had your way, daring to occupy Senior Dugu’s dwelling.” Seeing the intelligence gleaming in the serpent’s eyes and its almost human gestures, Yuan Ye was secretly astounded. Who would have thought that in the few decades since the Divine Eagle’s death, this Posiqu serpent had grown so formidable?

At the mention of the Divine Eagle, the serpent’s head froze, confusion flickering in its eyes as if recalling something. Then, after a moment, it let out a piercing hiss. The clarity in its gaze vanished, replaced by a murderous fury as it fixed its gaze upon Yuan Ye. It seemed those two words had dredged up some unbearable memory, and now, mistaking Yuan Ye for the Divine Eagle, it was bent on a fight to the death.

Seeing the serpent’s reaction, Yuan Ye realized that a peaceful resolution was impossible. Only last night had he narrowly escaped a treacherous death; now, he dared not be complacent. He steeled himself, ready to give his all, like a lion hunting a rabbit.

As the serpent’s head lunged and its tail, thick as a beam, whipped toward him like a golden spear, Yuan Ye advanced instead of retreating. In a flash, he dashed forward, his sword shimmering with cold light as he thrust at the serpent’s right eye—swift, seamless, and precise.

After expelling the residual poison from his body the previous night, Yuan Ye had discovered that his inner energy had grown yet again, his skills advancing to the very peak of the first tier, with no room for further improvement. Last night, with his energy suppressed by poison and his strength nearly depleted, he had been forced to rely solely on technique, fighting several desperate battles.

Most notably was the life-or-death duel with the stronghold chief, where he had faced mortal peril time and again. Under the shadow of death, Yuan Ye had exhausted every means, even unleashing a power different from this world’s inner energy—chakra. With a desperate gamble, he had taken a blow in order to strike the chief’s vital acupoint.

That battle had been far more arduous than his match with Wei Yixiao. In that earlier contest, neither combatant bore lethal intent; it was but a friendly exchange. But the duel with the stronghold chief was a struggle where both sought the other’s death, using every ruthless method. Yuan Ye’s victory had come at great cost.

Yet the benefits were evident. His current display showed that he had thoroughly integrated the Wudang sword arts, no longer bound as before. Formerly, if he began with the opening move of the Thirteen Swords of Shenmen, he would have to follow with its second form. Now, after advancing several steps and striking with Shenmen’s Thirteen Swords, he could instantly switch as the serpent’s tail arrived first—drawing a circle with his sword to block, shifting from offense to defense in a heartbeat, employing the Twofold Yang Sword, Wudang’s most defensive style.

Both sword techniques were of the highest order—one emphasized swift, relentless strikes, the other, a slow, impenetrable defense that foreshadowed the future Wudang Taiji Sword. Yuan Ye could now transition between them fluidly, as if they were one art. Such mastery, even on Wudang Mountain, was matched only by his master, Zhang Sanfeng. Last night, realizing he could do this, Yuan Ye was grateful for the innate talent granted by his reincarnated body. Without it, with his easygoing, reclusive nature, even possessing the Nine Yang Manual, he might have remained a mere mediocrity.

His greatest gain from years on Wudang was not martial prowess, but his master’s teachings. From that scholarly, almost otherworldly teacher, he had learned much—music, chess, calligraphy, the secrets of the Dao—but most importantly, perseverance. These vague principles had eluded him before, but after surviving his injuries last night, his mind was as clear as a mirror.

This was why he had come, seeking martial secrets. With his current skill, save for his master, none in the martial world could threaten him unless he was surrounded by armies or beset by multiple top-tier experts. Otherwise, he would have simply sought fame and glory.

Parrying the serpent’s tail, Yuan Ye was reminded of the vow he’d made before his master when he set out from the mountain. A wry smile touched his lips; last night’s desperate plight had laid bare how naïve and ridiculous he had been. “At least I only boasted before my master, or else I’d have been a laughingstock. The path to transcendence—how arduous! The way ahead is severed, even the heavens have flaws.” Though he sighed inwardly, his movements did not slow.

With a sudden leap, Yuan Ye sprang into the air. The serpent, caught off guard, could not withdraw its head in time.

With a wet splatter, blood flew as his sword pierced the serpent’s right eye. Infusing his legs with inner energy, he stamped down hard on the serpent’s body and sprang away.

A thunderous crash echoed as the serpent’s head was driven against the rocky wall. Stones rained down, and the serpent, now blinded in one eye and reeling from the blow, let out a keening howl of agony.

Shaking its head in pain, the serpent was driven to madness. Its massive body uncoiled, striking wildly with its head and tail, its trunk, thick as a barrel, lunging to ensnare Yuan Ye.

Facing the crazed serpent, Yuan Ye dared not take it lightly. Judging by its size, he estimated its strength at several thousand pounds—ten times his own. If it caught him, even with his powerful inner energy, he could only last a short while before being crushed to pulp.

His earlier stomp had revealed that its scales, shimmering gold, were as hard as refined steel. With his strength—surpassed only by his master—his full-force stomp would have left any first-rate martial artist vomiting blood, and a second-rate one would be instantly killed. Yet the serpent, after being twice trampled and smashed against the wall, was only dazed briefly before attacking again—truly terrifying.

“What a creature! You’re on the verge of becoming a spirit. Too bad you met me—haven’t you heard? Since the founding of the nation, animals aren’t allowed to become spirits anymore!” Yuan Ye chuckled lightly. Cautious within, he remained composed, even quipping lines the serpent could never understand.

Dodging swiftly through the cave, he displayed the world’s finest lightness skill, his white robes fluttering like a dream. No matter how the serpent’s tail whipped and struck, sending rocks flying, it could not so much as graze his sleeve.

The previous night, out of boredom, Yuan Ye had read the booklet Wei Yixiao had tossed him. To his surprise, it contained Wei’s own lightness skill—Floating Catkin, Drifting Smoke Technique. He had stashed the thin booklet in his clothes and, in the chaos, the stronghold chief had never found it. Had the chief obtained such a manual, even learning a fraction would have changed the outcome of their duel.

Realizing his good fortune, Yuan Ye began practicing the technique, combining it with Wudang’s Cloud-Stepping Ladder. Though it was only a few hours, he had gained much. Now, his agility was nearly on par with Wei Yixiao’s.

After evading dozens of attacks, Yuan Ye frowned. He knew this could not continue. The serpent’s stamina was immense; it could probably keep up its assault for days and nights without fatigue. Was he to fight for days on end?

Yuan Ye thought, “I’ll have to end this quickly.”

Dodging another tail strike, his eyes lit up—he had found a perfect opportunity. He was now behind the serpent, within its blind spot, and its vulnerable spot—seven inches behind the head—was exposed right before him.

Seizing the moment, he sprang forward, channeling all his energy into his right hand and into his sword. To project energy beyond the body was the mark of a grandmaster. Though Yuan Ye had not yet reached the innate realm, by blending the properties of chakra and controlling his inner energy, he could barely manage to coat his weapon with it. Though not as advanced as the dragon-form energy of Qiao Feng or Hong Qigong, even this rudimentary infusion was formidable.

Leaping to the serpent’s vital point, his gaze grew cold, and without hesitation, he thrust his sword deep.

Like slicing tofu, the blade sank into the serpent’s weak spot. Driven mad by pain and the nearness of death, the serpent thrashed violently.

But Yuan Ye chose to withdraw, springing off the wall behind him like a coiled spring, shooting straight for the cave entrance.

In a flash, he burst from the cave, and as his feet touched the ground, daylight flooded his vision. He narrowed his eyes slightly against the sudden brightness.