A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 4

The Sentinel moved with such blistering speed that he was little more than a blur to the naked eye. The sudden motion left Guanyue Xi feeling nauseous, his head throbbing painfully. Strands of grey hair brushed against his skin, tickling his face.

It wasn’t every day someone got to experience the sensation of being certain of death one second and completely fine the next.

It took Guanyue Xi a moment to process what had happened. He gripped the Sentinel’s shoulders and stared into his face.

“It’s you?” Guanyue Xi was so surprised that even his headache seemed to fade slightly. “What are you doing here?”

Shiraishi Hare didn’t answer. Instead, he simply turned his head away.

Across the clearing, the “grizzly bear” let out another thunderous roar.

Guanyue Xi didn’t have time for more questions; he immediately turned his attention to the battlefield.

He had shoved Bian Mengmeng out of the way earlier. Aside from a bit of a tumble, she was unhurt and was currently scrambling to her feet to join them.

Meanwhile, Shiraishi Hare’s Anaconda had almost completely enveloped the monster. It was coiled so tightly around its prey that only the creature’s limbs were visible, and its desperate thrashing was growing weaker by the second. The outcome of the fight was already decided.

Bian Mengmeng rushed over, her face a mask of lingering terror.

“I really thought you were a goner. That was terrifying!” She patted her chest, trying to soothe her racing heart. “I couldn’t even react. Your reflexes are insane—thank you for pushing me out of the way.”

“It’s nothing,” Guanyue Xi said with a small smile. “Did you contact the Tower?”

“Yeah, I’ve already flagged the examiners. They should be here any minute.”

Bian Mengmeng checked her terminal.

“Speaking of the Tower.” Guanyue Xi turned to look at the Sentinel who was supposed to be halfway back to the Special Star by now. “Didn’t I help you contact them? Why didn’t you go? Also, thanks for the save—you can put me down now.”

“I didn’t stay,” Shiraishi Hare said simply.

“Right… fair enough.”

Speechless, Guanyue Xi hopped down from Shiraishi’s arms.

Back in the cave, the Sentinel had been sitting down the whole time. Now that they were standing side-by-side, Guanyue Xi realized the man was nearly half a head taller than him.

A moment later, the Anaconda vanished, having finished its task. It left behind the “grizzly” carcass, its limbs twisted at unnatural angles—it had clearly been crushed to death by the snake’s sheer constrictive force.

Guanyue Xi used his terminal to take photos of the body from several angles, documenting the strange new species.

Bian Mengmeng kept darting glances between the two men. She was clearly trying to figure out their relationship and who this mystery Sentinel was, but she felt too awkward to ask directly in front of him.

And the Sentinel?

He simply closed his eyes and collapsed.

Guanyue Xi: “?”

Bian Mengmeng: “?”

“Is  that normal?” Bian Mengmeng stammered.

“I’m going to go with ‘no’,” Guanyue Xi replied.

“Who is this guy anyway?” Bian Mengmeng finally blurted out, her curiosity overflowing. “He’s not from our school, right?”

“No idea. I only got a name. I just happened to run into him here,” Guanyue Xi answered.

“Oh. Right.”

“Can you connect to his mental realm?” Guanyue Xi gestured for her to check him.

Bian Mengmeng closed her eyes and tried for a moment before shaking her head.

“No good. Our compatibility isn’t high enough.”

“Figures.”

The “death” of his Black Mamba earlier had taken a significant toll on Guanyue Xi’s psyche. Using his mental powers now was a struggle, but he couldn’t just abandon the man who had saved his life.

He knelt and pressed his hand to Shiraishi’s forehead. Leveraging their exceptionally high compatibility, entering the Sentinel’s mental realm was as easy as walking through his own front door.

But the sight that met him inside was staggering.

To describe the Sentinel’s mental realm as “riddled with holes” would be an understatement. It was a shattered ruin. That he could even move in this state, let alone fight, was as shocking as a paralyzed patient suddenly getting up to perform a high-energy dance routine.

Only a few large, isolated fragments remained to hold the structure together. The ground was a wasteland, the irrigation channels were bone-dry, and only the massive tree at the center still retained its original shape.

Acting decisively and ignoring his own headache, Guanyue Xi extended his mental energy like a fine silk net. He carefully wrapped it around Shiraishi’s mental realm, catching the loose fragments and beginning to construct a temporary mental barrier.

When a Guide is deep inside a mental realm, they are in a state of “mental drift.” They lose awareness of the outside world and their perception of time becomes distorted.

When Guanyue Xi finally opened his eyes, Bian Mengmeng was staring right at him. Two examiners had also arrived and were busy tending to Shiraishi’s wounds.

“How is he? Is the big guy okay?”

“Not great.” Guanyue Xi pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling exhausted. “His mental realm is practically in pieces. I’ve done my best to glue it back together for now.”

An examiner with a nametag reading “Wen Yi” looked at Guanyue Xi and spoke up.

“Student, would you happen to be the one who informed us about an unidentified Sentinel a few hours ago?”

“That was me.”

The other examiner, a woman with long blonde hair named Hu Bing, tossed her hair back with a mock-sorrowful sigh. “Little student, because of your message, we’ve run back and forth three times trying to find this guy. Turns out he was following you all along.”

Guanyue Xi spread his hands, looking innocent.

“How was I supposed to know? I told him to wait, but I can’t control it if he runs off. I’m just a fragile Guide, you know.”

“Right.” Wen Yi stood up and looked at the unconscious Sentinel. “I tried to sync with him just now, but we aren’t compatible. Based on your report, his mental state is critical. For safety’s sake, you’re coming with us.”

“What about my exam?”

“Suspended for now. I’ll explain the situation to the Tower; don’t worry about your grades.” Wen Yi gestured to the grizzly carcass. “That alone will get you plenty of extra points.”

Bian Mengmeng raised her hand. “What about me?”

“Do you want to forfeit? If not, keep going.”

Bian Mengmeng gave a thumbs-up. “I think I’ll just keep laying low, then.”

The blonde examiner patted her on the shoulder. “Good luck!”

The examiners’ airship was hovering above. They lowered ropes to retrieve everyone, and since Shiraishi was injured, they used a stretcher for him. Soon, all four were aboard.

On the ship, Hu Bing sat with her legs crossed, eyeing Guanyue Xi and the unconscious Shiraishi. She couldn’t resist a bit of gossip.

“Where exactly did you find this Sentinel?” Guanyue Xi told his story, leaving her wide-eyed with amazement.

“A compatibility high enough to trigger instant Bond Heat? I haven’t seen more than a few pairs like that in my entire teaching career.”

Guanyue Xi took the opportunity to ask, “Examiner Hu, have you ever heard of something like this? A Sentinel who has no idea what the Special Star is?”

“Hmm… no, never.”

“Can you tell me more about that tunnel you found?” Wen Yi asked, having been listening quietly.

Guanyue Xi gave a detailed account, hoping to gauge whether the Tower knew about the irregularities on this planet. He noticed Wen Yi and Hu Bing exchange a cryptic look.

Unfortunately, no matter how much they talked, he couldn’t get any more information out of them. Even the seemingly laid-back Hu Bing was incredibly tight-lipped. But the lack of information was a form of information in itself. Guanyue Xi decided to close his eyes and rest.

It’s so cold.

Everything hurts.

Where am I?

Guanyue Xi struggled to open his eyes. His body felt as if it were pinned under a heavy, water-logged quilt—cold, damp, and crushing.

Harsh white light reflected off the floor, blinding him. People were talking nearby.

“really… won’t work… we… change… better…”

“No…”

He tried to focus on their words, but it was like listening through a thick veil. He could only catch fragments of words that refused to form a coherent sentence.

As his consciousness cleared, he realized he was strapped into a metal chair. Cold sweat was pouring down his skin.

He tried to move, only to find his hands and feet were securely bolted down.

He looked around. The room looked like a laboratory, filled with strange equipment. There was a mirror the size of an entire wall, but Guanyue Xi couldn’t see his own reflection clearly—it was as if a fog had settled over his eyes.

He had heard voices a moment ago, but now the room was empty.

Before he could think further, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, stopping just outside the lab door.

“Hey, wake up, student Guanyue Xi.”

Guanyue Xi jerked awake to find the blonde examiner’s face inches from his own as she patted his shoulder.

“…Ah.”

He realized he had drifted off and had a very bizarre dream.

He rubbed his temples, which were throbbing with pain. Was it because he’d exhausted his mental energy? He couldn’t even remember the details of the dream now.

“Your little Sentinel woke up for a second, but he’s out again.” Hu Bing pointed to the grey-haired man on the cot. “You’re out of our hands now. Once we board the Mothership, you’ll take a shuttle back to the Special Star.”

“Right. Thanks, Examiner Hu,” Guanyue Xi nodded.

“Don’t mention it. Once you’re back home, take that boy to a hospital for a full check-up. Mental injuries are a nightmare to live with.” The blonde examiner tapped her temple and gave him a wink. “If you don’t fix it, it’ll hurt for a lifetime.”

Before Guanyue Xi could respond, Wen Yi pulled Hu Bing aside and cleared the hatch. “Enough talk. It’s time to disembark. We don’t have the facilities to treat him here.”

A medical bot rolled forward to wheel Shiraishi’s stretcher away. Guanyue Xi said his goodbyes and followed.

After a long and tiring journey, Guanyue Xi and Shiraishi Hare finally arrived back at the Special Star. The Sentinel had drifted in and out of consciousness during the trip, leaving Guanyue Xi no chance to ask him anything. He had spent the entire journey reinforcing the man’s mental realm.

Back in the hospital, Guanyue Xi placed his hand on the Sentinel’s forehead and projected his consciousness into that ruined mental world once more.

It was a black void, as vast as the universe itself. After days of connecting, Guanyue Xi found the path to the mental barrier with ease, quickly locating the fragments glowing faintly in the darkness.

The Guide became a diligent fisherman, using his mental tentacles to scoop up the shards and graft them back onto the barrier.

This time, the landscape of Shiraishi’s mind was a bit more complete.

The sky was a murky grey, resembling the smog recorded in ancient historical archives. It swallowed the canopy of the giant tree, leaving only the lower trunk and a hollow visible.

Guanyue Xi carefully stepped over the cracks in the ground, nearly tripping over a root that had grown aggressively outward.

“Whoa! Trying to take me out, are you?”

He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

“Let’s see. the Anaconda was sleeping in the hollow the last few times. Let’s see if it’s there now.”

He walked to the tree hollow and peered inside, but it was empty. He turned to look elsewhere, only to feel a cold sensation against his palm.

A massive green head with orange markings was nudging its way into his hand. It leaned in so hard it bumped into his leg, and before he knew it, the snake had already coiled itself loosely around him.