The Cannon Fodder Also Has a Will to Survive [Rebirth] - Chapter 24

When the butterfly spirit constructed her spatial pocket, she had unfortunately built it directly atop another separate space. When Han Zhong violently shattered her domain, he inadvertently tore a gap in the barrier of the space beneath it.

Han Zhong deduced the situation almost immediately. He held An Jiu firmly as they landed smoothly, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of life. There was no one.

Once An Jiu felt solid ground beneath his feet, he looked up from Han Zhong’s arms. “Junior Uncle, are we out?”

The expression on the boy’s face was exceptionally sweet and obedient. Looking down into his eyes, Han Zhong felt an unexpected stir of warmth. How did I never notice how adorable this little thing is before?

Han Zhong reflected for a moment and gave a self-deprecating smile. In the past, he’d had little contact with An Jiu; the boy had always dodged him as if he were the plague. His rigid impression of An Jiu had been formed entirely by the words of his Senior Brother, An Yunge, and his other two nephews. It seemed he was a mortal man after all, easily swayed by the biases of those around him.

“When we return, Senior Brother will break your seal. If you still don’t want to stay at Dongqi Peak come to Fengyuan Peak,” Han Zhong said, uncharacteristically sentimental. He imagined that even if An Jiu wasn’t overflowing with gratitude, he would at least recognize the kindness and offer a word of thanks.

Instead

An Jiu scanned the area, and once he decided the environment was safe, he unceremoniously extracted himself from Han Zhong’s embrace, regardless of what the man was saying.

After a delayed beat, he processed Han Zhong’s words. He tilted his head, thinking for a moment before asking expectantly, “But I want to go to the Demonic Realm.”

Lin Jingyuan was willing to trade a Catalyst Bone for his life; surely he wouldn’t just throw him into the mortal world to starve to death? Besides, he had half an ally there ‘Lin’ was his husband in name, after all, so he probably wouldn’t let him live too miserably. No matter how he looked at it, returning to the Demonic Realm felt safer.

His plan was to lay low until the book’s plot concluded. Once all these men were busy entangling themselves with An Yunge, they wouldn’t have time for him. Then, he’d return to Yunlu Manor, move his mother’s grave, and live out his own quiet life.

An Jiu grew more delighted the more he thought about it, nearly letting out a giggle. He was interrupted by Han Zhong’s cold, stern “No.”

Seeing An Jiu look at him in confusion, Han Zhong realized his reaction had been a bit too sharp. He composed himself, shot a cold glance at An Jiu, and smoothed over his tone. “Do you think you’re just an ordinary person? Now that Senior Brother knows about your spiritual root talent, even if someone is protecting your life, they won’t let you leave the sect”

Furthermore, with such a constitution, you would suffer immensely if you were left to wander alone. Han Zhong didn’t say that part aloud, but he knew it was the harsh truth of the Cultivation World.

An Jiu’s head drooped despondently. He let out a low “Oh.” He had almost forgotten that, much like a Catalyst Bone, a special constitution like his wasn’t considered “human” in the eyes of others. Hadn’t Si Xuanye already taught me that lesson?

To return to a peaceful life, perhaps he would first have to strip away the Heavenly Spirit Root. This constitution was something other cultivators coveted, but for the one who actually possessed it, the suffering was unspeakable.

For a fleeting second, An Jiu actually thought: Maybe I should just gouge the spiritual root out. But the thought had barely surfaced before he shivered.

No, no, no. He had experienced the agony of spiritual root extraction once before. Unless it was his last resort, he never wanted to feel it again.

I’ll just take it as it comes. Maybe there’s another way? An Jiu remained optimistic mostly because he had no other choice.

Han Zhong had felt a bit uneasy after his harsh words, but seeing An Jiu bounce back from “sad puppy” to energetic youth in a heartbeat, he felt his heart lighten. He didn’t take my heavy words to heart. That’s good. He decided not to press the issue further.

At this stage, Han Zhong didn’t understand that some cracks, seemingly minor, will eventually widen into unbridgeable chasms if left unpatched.

“Let’s go. We need to find the exit to this place,” Han Zhong said. An Jiu nodded obediently, and neither of them mentioned the previous topic again.

As they walked through the space, which appeared to be a palace, Han Zhong’s suspicion grew. “There are totems of the Demon-Spirit God on the stone walls, and the decor is magnificent and refined. This seems to be… the City Lord’s private quarters.”

Rumor had it that the current City Lord of Demon-Spirit City was exceptionally fond of solitude. He hated outsiders intruding upon his private domain so much that he had severed the space of his sleeping quarters into a separate spatial artifact.

“…” An Jiu was even more silent than Han Zhong. What kind of decent person goes for a stroll at a festival and ends up in the City Lord’s bedroom? Doesn’t this make us look like assassins?

The moment Han Zhong finished speaking, the figures in the wall murals across the room opened their eyes. Row after row of eerie, glowing green eyes stared out through the dim hall, a sight both grotesque and terrifying.

Once the eyes locked onto them, the mural figures began to speak. “Intruders. Intruders.”

Han Zhong’s face changed. He grabbed An Jiu to hurry him out of the side hall. “Move! This place has the Demon-Spirit God’s restriction Yao cannot use magic here.”

These inanimate objects didn’t care if they had entered by mistake; they would only attack indiscriminately. There were bound to be traps in the palace as well.

Sure enough, the figures in the murals came to life, racing along the walls. As they neared the pair, they reached half their bodies out of the stone, attempting to drag them into the paintings. Ideally, one would just need to stay away from the walls, but the floor tiles were also a mechanism. Soon, Han Zhong stepped on a faulty tile, and the walls on either side began to grind inward, threatening to crush them.

They didn’t dare run blindly. Magic was suppressed, meaning they couldn’t fly, and the tiles were booby-trapped; they had to test every step. Despite the situation, Han Zhong remained calm. He discovered that once a trap tile was depressed, the mechanism wouldn’t trigger as long as it wasn’t allowed to spring back. He performed a quick hand seal.

An Jiu looked at him curiously. Didn’t he say magic doesn’t work?

Han Zhong caught his look and said flatly, “I cannot use spells, but I am still a sword cultivator. The fundamental skills of a sword cultivator are physical forms.”

An Jiu’s eyes lit up. “I see! Junior Uncle, you mean the Light-Body Art from the basic body-tempering techniques, right?” (The equivalent of “Lightfoot” or Qinggong in mortal martial arts). An Jiu chided himself internally for being so rigid in his thinking.

“Mhm. Very smart,” Han Zhong replied, a thick layer of amusement in his eyes. Light-Body Art doesn’t require hand seals.

This was the first time An Jiu had been praised for being “smart,” especially by someone as powerful as Han Zhong. He beamed with joy. But the smile had barely reached his face before it froze.

A black mist began to billow around Han Zhong, enveloping him completely. After a long moment, the mist dissipated. An Jiu stood with his mouth agape, staring up at Han Zhong, who was now nearly half a meter taller.

It was still his Junior Uncle’s face, but his eyes had transformed into golden, vertical slits. Faint scales were visible along his hairline. Han Zhong smirked at him, revealing two sharp, pointed fangs at the corners of his crimson lips, looking both exotic and predatory.

The aura of a Great Yao was something an ordinary demon could never replicate. But what truly shocked An Jiu was his lower half: a thick, massive serpent’s tail that stretched back so far the tip was nearly out of sight. Obsidian-like scales shimmered in the dim light, looking as if the tail had been dusted with beautiful starlight sands.

“Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju-Junior Uncle.” An Jiu swallowed hard. “Is this your true form?”

Han Zhong’s serpentine eyes looked down at him with immense arrogance. “A tenth of it.”

An Jiu tried to imagine the full size. One pot wouldn’t be enough to stew that.

Before An Jiu could finish his thought, Han Zhong reached out a hand. “Let’s go. The walls are closing in.”

An Jiu stared at his hand, his reaction slow. Han Zhong could transform into a half-man, half-snake form and use the weight of the tail to hold down the tiles with a tail that long, he could hold down a path from start to finish. But what about me? I still have to step on the floor!

Seeing the boy wasn’t catching on, Han Zhong simply leaned down and scooped him up into a bridal carry.

Suddenly lifted off the ground, An Jiu met those golden vertical pupils. His breath hitched, and his heart began to thud wildly. It wasn’t because he was shy about being carried; he had been held during the fall earlier, after all. He was just plain terrified.

The true form of a Great Yao is usually a secret. Han Zhong had been with the Wan-Yan Sword Sect for centuries, and likely only those within his inner circle knew what he was. For years, no one had seen his true form or knew what kind of Yao he was.

Whether Demon or Yao, the true form of a superior bloodline can strike primal fear into those below them. Even seasoned cultivators might struggle to suppress their instincts when facing Han Zhong’s form, let alone a young, inexperienced cultivator like An Jiu. Furthermore, the fear of serpents was practically hard-coded into human genetics.

Han Zhong knew the boy would be afraid, but this was with his aura already suppressed to the limit. Unfortunately, An Jiu was so weak that he was still having a stress reaction. An Jiu began to tremble uncontrollably.

Han Zhong looked down at him and said heartlessly, “Overcome it. It’s best if you get used to it.”

An Jiu thought: What exactly do I need to get used to? Naturally, he didn’t dare say it. Since he was currently relying on his Junior Uncle to get him out and a Great Yao was personally serving as his mount, he didn’t dare voice any complaints. An Jiu squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Han Zhong’s chest. “Yes, Junior Uncle. I’ll try.”

Han Zhong gave a satisfied smile.

The rest of the journey was peaceful. No more traps were triggered. The only sound in the palace was the “hissing” of scales sliding across the floor. An Jiu assumed they would soon be out, but as they rounded a corner, they encountered the first person they had seen in the palace.

Emerging from the hall, An Jiu realized they were on a high balcony. Before them stood the flying eaves of the next level. Standing there was a youth dressed in red, looking at the pair with a half-smile.