Chen Xiazi had also heard a disturbance deep within the dry pool, but by the time he and Partridge Whistle issued their warnings, it was too late. With a sudden, violent shhhhwala sound erupting from below, the Six-Winged Centipede surged up the stone wall. It seemed that, driven by primal instinct upon sensing an ancient predator had entered Bottle Hill, it had hidden itself deep in the chasm, daring not to move. However, seeing its countless offspring and descendants on the verge of annihilation by the flock of chickens, the creature could endure no longer and finally rushed onto the stone bridge before the Boundless Hall.

Old Yang Ren and Hua Ling, two freshly initiated members of the Mountain Shifting Sect, happened to be walking on the bridge with several members of the bandit group. No one anticipated how fast the centipede would strike; rescue was impossible. The Six-Winged Centipede clung beneath the bridge, arching its body before suddenly thrusting out over the railing. Its hundred claws churned beneath its yellowish-brown abdomen, presenting a terrifying spectacle.

Although the bandits had come prepared, the suddenness of the event stunned them. Seeing the massive centipede suddenly materialize, they forgot even to dodge. Old Yang Ren and two other bandits were instantly swept off the bridge by the centipede, plummeting to their deaths among the jumbled rocks at the bottom of the dry pool with horrifying shrieks.

The piercing cries and the sickening crunch of bone echoed back and forth through the cavernous halls, terrifying the thieves. Those at the front ranks let out a shout, raising their rifles to fire. They had already loaded their weapons before entering the ancient tomb; a volley of shots might, at least, put several holes in the beast.

But Partridge Whistle saw the Six-Winged Centipede clinging to the side of the stone bridge. If they fired wildly, they wouldn't only fail to kill the giant centipede, but the surviving members still on the bridge, including Hua Ling, would become its shield. Firing indiscriminately was absolutely out of the question. He quickly raised his hand, pushing aside the muzzles of the front-rank bandits. It was a near-instantaneous action, and a rapid series of shots zipped past the heads of the men on the bridge.

Chen Xiazi also cried out urgently, "Hold your fire, lest you strike our own brothers!" Hearing their leader’s command, the bandits forcibly lowered their weapons. Some of the sappers, their courage failing, saw the chaos and turned to flee. The handgunners mixed in with the thieves immediately began shooting these deserters, killing several of the first to run on the spot, throwing the crowd into utter disarray.

Partridge Whistle, enraged and grieving over Old Yang Ren’s senseless death, shoved aside those blocking him and rushed to the head of the bridge, intending to pull his junior sister, Hua Ling, back to safety. But just then, the Six-Winged Centipede suddenly lunged up from beneath the bridge, its great palps seizing Hua Ling, and with a flutter of its six wings and hundred feet, dragged her up toward the heavy eaves of the Boundless Hall’s roof.

The centipede’s speed was unimaginable, allowing no room for resistance or evasion. Hong Guniang, desperate to save her, immediately loosed several darts from her sleeves. But the creature’s massive body moved faster than lightning as it retreated; a black shadow flashed past the hall entrance, and those perfectly aimed, powerful darts struck the door pillars instead, missing the centipede’s shadow entirely.

Seeing Hua Ling’s life hanging in the balance, Partridge Whistle had no time for careful thought. Relying on his agility, he snatched a Centipede-Climbing Ladder from a nearby man, hooked it onto the hip ridge of the hall’s corner eaves, and with three swift bounds, followed the giant centipede onto the roof.

Partridge Whistle’s feet slipped on the slick glazed tiles. Ahead, he heard the crash of bricks and tiles breaking. Looking up, he saw the centipede extending its hundred feet, clawing and dislodging the glazed roof tiles in heaps, which immediately slowed its pace.

Below, the bandits, led by Chen Xiazi, held their ground, aiming their guns at the roof. But with Partridge Whistle also on the roof, and the centipede nestled between the heavy eaves and the hanging rafters, only a small portion of its body was exposed, keeping anyone from firing rashly. Suddenly, they heard the sound of moving tiles, and everyone hastily retreated as dozens of large, sliding tiles crashed onto the ground. The bandits, witnessing the sheer power of the Six-Winged Centipede—which seemed almost spirit-possessed—were astounded that the Mountain Shifter Partridge Whistle dared to pursue it onto the roof. Many who respected his talent worried for his life and shouted for him to retreat quickly; after all, nothing was more vital than one's own survival.

But Partridge Whistle was accustomed to battling storms, treating a thousand perils as nothing, and he would not heed the words of the Lingering Slope bandits. He dodged the tiles sliding from above, circled around the roof, and maneuvered beside the centipede. He saw the creature clasping Hua Ling with its palps, its mouth dripping with thick saliva.

Partridge Whistle instantly understood: this centipede, long dormant in the Medicine Mountain, craved the rare herbs, strange flora, and potent tastes used in alchemy. Since Hua Ling had spent her life collecting medicinal ingredients in the mountains, constantly surrounded by minerals and rare plants, the Six-Winged Centipede intended to abduct her to drag her back to its lair for slow consumption.

This thought flashed through Partridge Whistle’s mind, yet his body did not pause. Taking advantage of the centipede’s unstable footing on the glazed tiles, he leaned forward, snatched Hua Ling from the creature’s grasp, and rolled down the sloping eaves with her in his arms.

The centipede was about to leap from the roof to the cavern wall; its grip on Hua Ling’s palps loosened slightly. It never expected someone to be so close as to snatch away the living prize from its jaws. Already driven to a furious frenzy, it would not yield. It immediately twisted and turned, and amidst the clatter of broken tiles, it launched itself into the air, swooping down upon Partridge Whistle.

The Lingering Slope bandits below watched clearly. They saw Partridge Whistle sliding down the roof holding Hua Ling, while the centipede suddenly beat its wings in pursuit, its momentum as overwhelming as a thunderclap. They gaped, crying out in unison that this was bad, every heart hanging in suspense.

Partridge Whistle heard the menacing wind behind him, knowing evasion was impossible. He had to find a way to deflect the attack. Putting force into his waist, he spun violently with Hua Ling in his arms, letting his back scrape the roof as he turned, sliding along the angled ridge at the corner of the hall, coming to a stop there with two German-made pistols already in his hands.

The crowd craning their necks below saw only a blur. No one grasped how he had turned and drawn his guns on the roof, or how he had cleared the mechanisms. By the time they saw clearly, the gunfire had begun.

Both of Partridge Whistle’s mirrored Mauser pistols were set to rapid fire. With a pull of the trigger, the forty rounds packed into the twin guns shot out like two streams of meteors. In a flash of lightning, all forty bullets struck the mouth of the pursuing Six-Winged Centipede.

The centipede’s downward momentum instantly halted. With every impact, the powerful impact of the Mauser sent it jerking backward. Once hit by the first shot, it could not evade the second. Not a single one of the forty rounds was wasted; they pierced the creature forty times, out of which welled a thick, white fluid. Severely wounded, it flipped onto the main ridge of the roof, struggling and twisting in agony, sending tiles crashing down wildly.

All this happened incredibly fast. The bandits below hadn't even managed to set up bamboo ladders to assist when the battle on the roof reached its climax. The thieves watched, dumbfounded, until the gunfire ceased, at which point they roared in applause like thunder—the Mountain Shifter Partridge Whistle truly possessed formidable skills. But before the cheers died down, they saw the centipede twist its bizarre body, arch, and then suddenly plunge down again. It had rallied unexpectedly; those forty bullets had failed to kill it.

Partridge Whistle had exhausted the ammunition in both guns and hadn't even had time to change the magazines before rushing to check Hua Ling’s wounds. He saw that her body was pierced in several places by the centipede’s palps, blood flowing freely, her face the color of parchment—truly, "her body like the mountain moon at five in the morning, her life like a lamp extinguished at midnight." Her breath was shallow, her life fading; she was beyond saving. In the blink of an eye, only Partridge Whistle remained of the last three Mountain Shifters. For a moment, his heart was utterly empty, and he forgot where he was.

Hearing the commotion and alarmed cries from below, Partridge Whistle suddenly snapped back to reality. He saw the Six-Winged Centipede diving at him from the air. His eyes turned red, his teeth ground together, his mind filled only with murderous intent. He hadn't been able to reach the bamboo cage to release the Angry Bright Chicken earlier. Now, veins bulged on his forehead. He pushed off the tiles and leaped into the air, cursing, "Vile beast, take my magic weapon!"

With that shout, he ripped open the seal of the bamboo cage and kicked it towards the giant centipede. As the cage flew through the air, the Angry Bright Chicken, already sensing its mortal enemy outside, burst forth, shaking its red comb and colorful plumage, landing squarely on the head of the Six-Winged Centipede.

The centipede, already gravely injured, tried to lash out in a final surge of rage. But upon seeing the colorful-plumed, golden-clawed rooster flying toward it—its natural nemesis—it was instantly struck with terror and frantically tried to shake its head to evade.

The Angry Bright Chicken would not allow it to dodge and weave. Though its footing on the centipede's head was unsteady, it pecked the beast a dozen times with its golden beak. The centipede suddenly leaped upward. The enraged chicken, intent only on killing its foe, lost its grip as the creature violently shook its body, sliding off its head. The chicken’s golden claws dug deep into the centipede’s carapace, settling near its wing joints. Amidst its furious crowing, it ripped off one of the centipede's transparent wings.

Partridge Whistle watched a ball of colorful aura and a mass of black mist entwined on the rooftop, locked in a desperate struggle. Flakes of the rooster's five-colored feathers and fragments of the centipede’s broken wings and legs occasionally scattered down from the sky. He knew that although the Angry Bright Chicken was no ordinary creature, the centipede had been nurtured for years in the Medicine Mountain. Though now subdued by its natural enemy and unable to spray its venomous mist, its vitality seemed unusually tenacious; killing it would not be simple. If it were allowed to escape now, it would surely become a great menace years later.

Partridge Whistle was determined to eliminate this demon quickly to prevent any unforeseen complications or its escape. He immediately reloaded the two twenty-shot pistols and leaped toward the roof's main ridge, intending to strike the Six-Winged Centipede from both sides with the Angry Bright Chicken. Meanwhile, Chen Xiazi led his men in setting up bamboo ladders to ascend to the roof.

But in its death throes, the Six-Winged Centipede suddenly flipped over on the roof, shaking off the battling chicken. It crashed down heavily itself. This Boundless Hall was, in fact, a beamless structure, supported entirely by rafters and columns, relying on them rather than massive crossbeams. Though structurally sound, it could not withstand the repeated, desperate battering from the giant centipede. Finally, when the creature slammed down, the loosened rafters and tiles gave way, and a large hole collapsed in the roof of the Boundless Hall.

Partridge Whistle was halfway across when the floor beneath him suddenly collapsed. Since all force originates from the ground, no matter how skillfully one moves, it requires ground support; he could not fly mid-air. With a deafening roar, Partridge Whistle, along with the centipede, plummeted through the broken rafters and tiles.

Partridge Whistle felt the ground vanish beneath him. His vision went dark as his body fell into the hall. To his surprise, the interior held an even deeper, bottomless pit, like a well, of extraordinary diameter. An ornate jade cover sat above it, which his falling body smashed through instantly. He felt excruciating pain throughout, but the downward momentum did not cease; he continued to fall amidst the debris of broken bricks and splintered wood.

It was only due to Partridge Whistle’s extraordinary agility, his vast experience in perilous situations, and his ability to remain calm under pressure that he survived the fall. Despite the pain, his mind remained clear. Mid-fall, he caught a flash of light and quickly tossed aside his firearms, reaching out to press against the sheer vertical wall. There, he managed to grip a small niche. His talent for balancing and clinging was no less impressive than that of the Lingering Slope chief, Chen Xiazi. Though a patch of skin was scraped from his fingers, he managed to halt his descent in mid-air.

Then he heard several dull thuds from above, followed by another cascade of sand and dust. The main pillars inside the hall had collapsed, sealing the mouth of the bottomless well within the hall. Even if the Lingering Slope bandits immediately began digging, it would take a long time to excavate through the ruins of the fallen Alchemical Palace, the Boundless Hall.

Partridge Whistle took a deep breath, switched hands to grip another niche in the wall. Suspended in the void, he did not know where he was, but enduring the pain, he looked around. He realized he was hanging on the wall of a massive shaft. Calling it a well might be inaccurate; the cavern was perhaps ten zhang wide, resembling a huge vertical grotto. The walls were smooth and polished, with a carved niche every so often. These niches, however, were not meant for climbing; each held a stone lamp with a golden-armored divine figure holding a flame—lamps that never extinguished, the kind used in imperial ancestral temples and tombs. These niches holding the stone lamps were called lamp troughs.

The vast underground cave was dotted everywhere with these stone lamps, countless in number. Partridge Whistle had clung to one of these troughs to avoid falling to his death, but the lamps were ancient, the fuel nearly exhausted, and the light exceedingly dim. He could see no bottom, only layers of hazy, pale yellow light halos.

Partridge Whistle hung one-armed against the well wall. Once he grasped the terrain, he regulated his breathing, stretched out his legs slightly, and confirmed he had sustained no crippling injuries. Fearless, he remained composed even in this deadly predicament. Seeing his proximity to the Boundless Hall above, he planned to climb back up the sheer cliff face.

Just as he prepared to move, he heard the sloshing sound of centipede movement echoing through the deep shaft. Partridge Whistle’s entire body tensed. He cursed the creature’s impossible resilience. He had just thrown away his favorite mirrored Mausers, and the Angry Bright Chicken was blocked outside. At this moment, even if he wished to kill the enemy, he was powerless. He couldn't help but inwardly groan. Following the sound, he saw the giant Six-Winged Centipede coiling its way up the shaft wall, climbing toward him.

With its hundred legs, the centipede was naturally adept at scaling walls. Despite its injuries, its speed was incredible. In moments, it had circled up the wall, allowing Partridge Whistle no time to prepare. In a few turns, it was near, its scraping palps and numerous wounds clearly visible.

Partridge Whistle knew he was cornered now—it was either death or mutual destruction. There was only one course of action: a desperate final gamble. He roared, "Well met!" Releasing his grip on the lamp trough, he pushed off the well wall with both feet, evading the centipede’s fierce lunge. With a sharp whistle, he launched himself out into the abyss.