“Hey, Mummy, why is all this water bubbling up?” Young Master Liu had clapped Mud Man Zhang on the shoulder at some point, striking up a familiar tone.

“They want to freeze us alive!” A sharp glint flashed in Mud Man Zhang’s eyes.

“What, freeze us to death? How do you figure?” Young Master Liu was utterly bewildered.

“Didn’t you go draw the talismans? Why are you back already? Hurry up, this concerns everyone’s life!” Mud Man Zhang grunted.

“Rest assured! I know what’s important. Following your coordinates and directions, I’ve taken care of everything that needed doing,” Young Master Liu smiled playfully.

“That fast?” Mud Man Zhang was slightly surprised, but at that moment, he didn’t have the luxury of checking.

“Heh heh, it’s not like you’re the only capable one around. I’m just someone who prefers to keep a low profile, you understand,” Young Master Liu rubbed his hands together.

“Is that so?” Mud Man Zhang curled his lip. “Well, in a moment, you won't be able to keep it low profile.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because the fight has begun!” As he spoke, Mud Man Zhang suddenly leaped up from beneath the coffin, his Jade Sun Thorn instantly flying out and piercing the heart of a Rányí fish squarely. Some greenish-blue blood seeped from the wound on the fish’s body, but the moment it touched the Jade Sun Thorn, it rapidly evaporated into a faint wisp of smoke.

Taking advantage of this, Young Master Liu finally got a clear look at the true face of the Rányí fish. Yes, it was indeed a fish: a semi-streamlined body covered in overlapping indigo scales. Where the head should have been, there was a deep indentation leading into the body cavity, from which a snake-like head emerged, extending and retracting. Stranger still, just as the Classic of Mountains and Seas described, this thing had six legs—though they couldn’t strictly be called legs, more like leg-like appendages. Each limb was connected to the body by a membrane of flesh. It appeared that the Rányí fish used these six fleshy wings for complete underwater propulsion and short glides through the air.

“This thing is quite bizarre,” Young Master Liu muttered after a quick look, feeling a chill. Just then, the other monstrous fish leaped out of the water, surging toward Mud Man Zhang’s Jade Sun Thorn in a desperate frenzy. For a moment, the hall was filled with the sickening sounds of tearing and scrambling, enough to shatter the nerves. Moments later, the monstrous fish leaped back into the water, leaving behind only half a shattered skeletal frame clinging to the Jade Sun Thorn.

Some residual scales and blood floated on the surface, staining the water a hazy green.

“They eat their own kind?” Young Master Liu still felt the lingering fear recalling the scene.

“And humans too!” Mud Man Zhang exclaimed, grabbing his clothes. “Move!”

Splat…

Another impatient, monstrous fish shot out, only to be pierced in two by Mud Man Zhang’s thrust. Before the corpse could fall back to the surface, it was swallowed by masses of black shadow. The entire water surface began to crackle violently, as if a sudden downpour had begun.

“Fall back, everyone fall back!” Mud Man Zhang shouted while dragging Young Master Liu backward. However, the others thought differently. After all, this crew of tomb robbers had seen every kind of strange person and bizarre event imaginable; surely they weren't scared off by a few fish? They had just seen these fish—at most, they looked a bit uncanny and could bite flesh, perhaps no more ferocious than the piranhas on television. With their minds put at ease, every one of them thought: since the Great Snow Mountain had a python guarding it, that must mean there was a millennium-old Lingzhi mushroom; therefore, since this place was guarded, there must be plenty of burial artifacts hidden underwater. Ignoring Mud Man Zhang’s warning, they all raised their rifles and advanced slowly.

“Nán Pá Zi!” Uncle Diao swiftly loaded his repeating rifle. “Didn't you hear what Mud Man Zhang said? Retreat immediately, everyone stay alert! Those with firearms stand in front, those with cold weapons fall to the rear.”

“Uncle Diao, you’re making a fuss over nothing. It’s just a few fish,” Nán Pá Zi scoffed. “Watch me put a few holes in them and you’ll see the skill of our Brother Nán.”

With that, he took a few more steps forward, disregarding the advice.

“Come back quickly, you can’t handle that thing,” Uncle Diao sighed.

“That’s because you underestimate me.” Nán Pá Zi’s muzzle was now closing in on the golden coffin.

Simultaneously, the entire golden coffin began to rattle violently, with countless impacts echoing from within, splashing water high into the air, spraying everywhere.

“This is bad,” Mud Man Zhang murmured to himself.

“What is it?” Uncle Diao took a deep breath.

“They’ve started fighting amongst themselves,” Mud Man Zhang gave a wry smile.

“Isn't that a good thing? If they all kill each other off, things will calm down,” Zhong Kui said, confused. He was holding a homemade shotgun—a type of scattergun weapon. While it lacked single-target lethality, it excelled at area damage; one shot would spray dozens of sub-projectiles across the wall.

“You don't know, the Rányí fish is the fastest evolving species in the field of paleontology, bar none,” Mud Man Zhang’s expression was grim. “They don’t evolve through reproduction, but through mutual slaughter. Once they evolve to a mid-to-high stage, it won't just be about biting people anymore; their attacks might even transcend physical damage.”