Chapter 14: Shadows in the Underground Palace

I kept my head down, dodging desperately as balls of fire crashed beside me. With nowhere left to run and the raging flames closing in, I couldn't help but shout at Fatty Wang, "Fatty, are you going to do something, or are you just waiting to collect my corpse?"

Fatty Wang had already circled to the back of the Tomb Guardian Beast. He answered, "Boss Jiang, don’t panic! Hold on—I’m here!"

Straightening his back with a look of solemn heroism, Fatty Wang took action. With a strange hissing sound, white smoke began to rise from the body of the Tomb Guardian Beast.

It was as if the creature had been struck on a pressure point—it froze in place, motionless.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of cracking echoed out. The beast’s body, burned bright red, began to split apart, fissures spidering across its surface like a shattered eggshell.

Fatty Wang grinned mischievously. "Got it!"

The cracking sounds grew louder and more frequent, until with a thunderous bang, the massive beast exploded, its pieces scattered across the floor.

None of us could have imagined that the ferocious, intimidating Tomb Guardian Beast would be defeated by nothing more than a stream of Fatty Wang’s urine.

Both Xueya and Hong Zhaohai had suffered burns of varying severity. I took a small sealed porcelain bottle from my ever-handy pouch—it contained badger oil, renowned for its miraculous effects on burns and scalds.

I carefully applied some of the badger oil to Xueya's and Hong Zhaohai's burns. Seeing this, Fatty Wang stuck out his backside and edged over.

"Boss Jiang, my wounds are the worst. Help me out, will you?" he called, presenting his scorched rear.

A glance told me he was right—his backside was badly blistered, large and small welts merging together, some already broken and oozing pus and blood.

"Fatty, your butt’s half-cooked—you could eat it with a dab of sauce," I joked as I applied the badger oil to his wounds.

After treating Fatty Wang's injuries, we took a brief rest before deciding to press on. The depths of the underground palace beckoned us with endless unknowns, drawing us further in.

Having dispatched two Tomb Guardian Beasts, we soon found ourselves before a deep, shadowy passageway. The corridor stretched into darkness, its end nowhere in sight—if we wanted to enter the burial palace, we had to traverse this passage.

The four of us stood at the entrance, hesitant to rush in. We held our high-powered flashlights, scrutinizing the corridor with utmost caution.

"Boss Jiang, don’t you think there’s something off about this passage?" Xueya said softly, her bright eyes fixed on me.

"You're right," I replied. "Look at the floor—it's paved with bluestone slabs, but mixed in with blue bricks. The arrangement is all over the place, no order or logic to it."

As I spoke, I bent down, picked up a small stone, and hurled it into the corridor.

This was a classic move—testing the path ahead with a thrown stone. If there were any traps or mechanisms, my stone might set them off.

I threw three stones in quick succession, but the corridor remained deathly silent—no reaction at all.

"Boss Jiang, looks like it’s safe. Not a thing to worry about," Fatty Wang declared.

"Don’t jump to conclusions, Fatty," I cautioned. "That’s how you get burned."

Fatty Wang just grinned, unconcerned. "If you’re all scared, I’ll go first. I’ll test the road for you!"

Before I could stop him, he strode into the corridor.

Now that he was inside, calling him back was almost impossible.

So I simply called after him, "Be careful!"

Seeing Fatty Wang go in, Xueya and Hong Zhaohai followed close behind, unwilling to be outdone.

We were four; with three already in agreement, I, the fourth, could only yield to the majority and step into the passage as well.

I regretted it almost immediately.

On the passage walls hung numerous human-oil lanterns, each in a different grotesque shape. Though their forms varied, they shared one thing: every single lamp bore a snarling, twisted, malevolent face.

Fatty Wang had already made his way deeper, shining his flashlight around, examining every nook and cranny.

Xueya and Hong Zhaohai followed at a cautious distance.

The lanterns on the walls flickered with a dim greenish light. The glow was faint, swaying, and eerie.

As the human oil burned, a strange, sweet aroma began to fill the air.

By this ghostly green light, I caught glimpses of Fatty Wang at the front. Occasionally, he’d turn and grin at us.

In the shifting shadows, I was startled to notice his face—deathly pale, drained of all color, as if dusted with frost.

His smile was rigid and unnerving, mysterious and terrifying. Leading us deeper with his flashlight, he resembled a little demon with a lantern, guiding souls into hell.

I tried to shout a warning, but in that moment, I realized with a shock that no matter how wide I opened my mouth, no matter how hard I tried, not a sound would come from my throat.

What was happening? Had I lost my voice? Was my throat paralyzed?

I gaped and strained, but it was useless—my voice was gone.

Worse still, I found that my legs had stopped obeying me. They marched forward of their own accord.

Xueya and Hong Zhaohai, I guessed, were in the same predicament—an invisible force had taken control of us all.

On the walls, the human-oil lanterns’ once ferocious faces were changing. Now, every lamp bore that same eerie grin as Fatty Wang—grotesque and horrifying.

The sweet scent thickened in the air. My limbs grew weaker by the moment.

It felt as if the oxygen was being sucked away, the air thinning, my breaths coming faster and harder.

I was like a fish thrown onto dry land…