Chapter 40: Rescue
Chen Shi’s eyes gleamed with a mischievous idea as he stared at the wrecked Red Barbarian Cannon on the side of the road.
“If I could haul this back to the village and set it up at the entrance, I’d be the undisputed King of the Village! The kids would kneel and call me Lord Chen!”
Regrettably, the carriage didn’t stop.
As they sped past the cannon, his gaze shifted to the surrounding corpses—members of the Divine Mechanism Battalion, judging by their uniforms. Each corpse had a small, neat hole in the center of its forehead, a wound that seemed impossibly precise, as though made by a needle or some other sharp object.
The carriage pressed on, passing more cannons and bodies as they advanced.
The further they traveled, the more bodies and cannons Chen Shi saw. The sight made his heart pound. He recalled the mysterious figure on the mountain peak, illuminated by flashes of cold light during last night’s battle.
“What kind of weapon could have caused wounds like these?”
By the time they reached the base of the mountain that had been bombarded the previous night, Chen Shi had counted hundreds of corpses and dozens of damaged cannons.
The mountain itself was a scene of devastation. Its summit had been nearly flattened, with molten magma still oozing and smoke rising from the scorched earth. The destruction was a stark reminder of the power of Red Barbarian Cannons paired with Great Five Thunder Talismans.
Despite the overwhelming destruction, the mountain still stood. At its center, a single massive stone pillar—dozens of meters tall and several meters wide—remained intact. The carriage raced toward the pillar, the sound of the horses’ hooves echoing against the desolate landscape.
Chen Shi heard a faint metallic clanging from the pillar’s summit, a sound like swords clashing.
The first light of dawn illuminated the scene, casting an eerie red glow over the mountainside. Shadows danced as though alive, and the air itself seemed to hum with tension.
Suddenly, a burst of divine radiance erupted from the pillar, shooting toward the heavens.
Chen Shi froze in awe as a colossal divine figure appeared in the sky above, its body enveloped in dazzling golden light. The figure’s vast hand descended toward the stone pillar, ready to crush whatever remained.
A flash of cold light tore through the air, too fast for the eye to follow.
In an instant, the divine figure’s head separated from its body, toppling with a surreal slowness.
A scream echoed from the pillar, and a human body tumbled to the ground, landing near the carriage with a sickening thud. The colossal divine figure disintegrated into golden mist, which scattered into the surroundings, revitalizing the grass and trees on the nearby peaks.
From the distant sky, Chen Shi heard a familiar voice: “Xiao Wangsun is truly formidable. I am impressed.”
The speaker was none other than Jin Hongying, her voice fading as she retreated rapidly from the scene.
The pillar, too steep for the carriage to ascend, left Chen Shi with no choice but to climb.
“Chen Gongzi,” the coachman said respectfully, “the rest is up to you.”
Chen Shi nodded, his nerves on edge as he began scaling the pillar. Using his hands and feet, he made slow but steady progress, the heat from the molten rock below serving as a grim reminder of the stakes.
Finally, he reached the summit.
The top of the pillar was littered with corpses, their presence oppressive even in death. These weren’t ordinary soldiers; their mere remains exuded an aura so powerful that it pressed down on Chen Shi like a mountain.
He shouted to steady his nerves, then began searching for Xiao Wangsun.
Behind a jagged rock, he found him. Xiao Wangsun lay on his back, blood pooling beneath him, his breaths shallow.
In front of him stood a gleaming eight-edged sword, its intricate hilt inlaid with gemstones. The weapon radiated an aura of noble elegance, embodying the image of a virtuous swordsman.
Chen Shi approached cautiously.
Suddenly, a faint whistling filled the air. Cold light flashed past his face, and strands of his hair floated to the ground. Behind him, a boulder split cleanly in two, one half sliding away with a grating sound.
Chen Shi froze.
“Xiao Wangsun! It’s Chen Shi! Can you hear me?” he called out.
There was no response.
He took a cautious step forward but halted mid-stride when a small sword, no more than three or four inches long, appeared before his forehead. Its intricate craftsmanship mirrored the larger sword, and it hovered menacingly, its tip aimed directly at his brow.
Chen Shi broke out in a cold sweat.
“Two swords... one for defense, one for attack. No wonder the Divine Mechanism Battalion was obliterated!”
Understanding the swords’ sentience, Chen Shi slowly reached into his robe, careful not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, he retrieved several sticks of incense and a fire starter.
He lit the incense and held it reverently toward the swords.
“Esteemed guardians, I am Xiao Wangsun’s friend, Chen Shi. I’ve come to save him, but if I delay any longer, his injuries may become fatal.”
The larger sword flew back to its scabbard, while the smaller sword hesitated, circling Chen Shi before retreating slightly.
Chen Shi sighed in relief, realizing his gamble had paid off. “Respect opens all doors,” he thought, recalling Madam Zhuang’s teachings.
Approaching Xiao Wangsun, he examined his injuries. They were extensive—burns from lightning strikes, cuts from enchanted weapons, and wounds from advanced spells.
“If it were me, I’d be long dead,” Chen Shi murmured as he carried Xiao Wangsun to the edge of the pillar.
The larger sword floated down and hovered just above the molten rock. Tentatively, Chen Shi stepped onto its scabbard, which sank slightly before stabilizing and lowering him safely to the ground.
“Xiao Wangsun, we’re down!” Chen Shi exclaimed, but there was no response. Xiao Wangsun had fallen unconscious again.
Wasting no time, Chen Shi loaded him onto the carriage. “To Madam Zhuang!” he ordered the coachman.
The carriage sped through the countryside, covering dozens of miles before reaching Gangzi Village. Chen Shi led the way into the mountains, finally arriving at Madam Zhuang’s sanctuary.
Inside, Madam Zhuang and her magical Forest Children examined Xiao Wangsun. Though the Ginseng Fruit they administered saved his life, they couldn’t fully heal the internal damage from the thunder and spells.
“Thank you, Madam Zhuang, and you too, little ones,” Chen Shi said, bowing deeply.
The Forest Children tugged at his sleeves, their tiny hands gesturing for more toys. Chen Shi promised to bring them some next time.
Returning Xiao Wangsun to the carriage, Chen Shi gave the next destination.
“Mirror Lake Manor.”
At midday, the eerie manor loomed as desolate as ever. With its icy waters and sunless canopy, it was the perfect place for recovery.
After placing Xiao Wangsun into his five-layered coffin, Chen Shi turned to leave, satisfied. “The Mirror Lake will ensure his safety. If Jin Hongying finds him, she’ll have to face an army of his equals.”
Outside, Chen Shi’s gaze returned to the carriage, his mind once again brimming with excitement.
“Now, about those cannons... and my coronation as King of the Village!”