My companion on this journey, though largely a matter of necessity, must surely regard me as a friend unto death, just as I regard him; therefore, I must now live on, for both of us.

I knew these Ming possessed keenly sensitive thermal organs; once these fires went out, I would instantly become their next target, and I was already in a perilous situation.

So, I sped up my pace, scrambling upwards as if my very life depended on it.

Yet, almost simultaneously, a fierce gale roared above my head, and a colossal Ming charged down at me.

I quickly pushed off with my feet, released the vine, and leaped sideways.

While still airborne, I felt something whistle past my ear and embed itself in the tree wall with a crack.

That was clearly the sharp proboscis of a Ming moth; had it struck me, I would have been sucked dry into a husk, just like the poor wretches before me.

Just as I sighed in relief, preparing to grab the nearby vine, a sudden chill gripped my heart.

I had grasped something covered in sharp spines—a Yu had silently climbed up the adjacent vine at some point, preparing to strike.

But it hadn't anticipated that I would leap onto it first.

A searing, violent pain shot through my hands, chest, and abdomen, yet I knew I could not let go. Falling from a height of a dozen meters might not be fatal, but below, even more Yu awaited me.

So, I gritted my teeth against the intense agony, clinging desperately to the spines on the creature’s body.

Fortunately, the spines weren't deeply embedded, only two or three centimeters long; although my palms were pierced, the injuries weren't severe.

The Yu, sensing I had landed on its back, let out a strange, high-pitched squeal and began climbing frantically upwards.

This thing is truly simple-minded, I thought, this will save me a great deal of effort.

The Yu seemed determined to shake me off with extreme speed, instantly ascending five or six meters.

But I held fast to its shoulders, showing no sign of falling.

Seeing it couldn't dislodge me, the creature suddenly stopped, gripping the vine with one hand while reaching back with the other to grab me.

Though I couldn't see, I sensed its movement and shifted toward where its hand couldn't reach.

This Yu perhaps shared some kinship with monkeys; frustrated by its inability to scratch me, it grew even angrier, shrieking wildly, gripping the vine with both hands, and violently shaking its body up and down.

Its strength and bulk were clearly much greater than a monkey's; this shaking drove the embedded spines deeper into my palms, and my head swam until I nearly tumbled from its back several times.

Fortunately, the Yu didn't shake for too long; after a few violent movements, it began squealing again, clearly furious.

It then began leaping back and forth between several adjacent vines while carrying me, trying to throw me off this way.

But it didn't know I was prepared to hang on for dear life, enduring the stabbing pain while locking my legs around its waist.

Finally, cornered and desperate, the Yu let out a few strange cries and started climbing upward again.

I presumed it intended to reach the walkway above and then find a way to ditch me.

Just then, trouble compounded upon trouble: the sound of seven or eight Ming flapping their wings echoed from not far below, and the vines began to shake violently—perhaps other Yu were being driven up by the Ming moths below.

This commotion fortunately spurred on the Yu carrying me; it almost sprang its way to the top edge of the tree hollow.

Then, it launched itself and me forward, flying horizontally five or six meters through the air, landing with the distinct thump-thump sound of four feet hitting a wooden floor.

This Yu was cunning; as soon as it landed, it deliberately swayed and tumbled, trying to crush me beneath its weight.

But I had anticipated this move; the moment we landed, I released my grip on its body, and the creature rolled away alone with a rumbling sound.

Though I stumbled and fell flat on my face, it was infinitely better than being crushed by its spiny bulk—a Yu of this size weighed at least three hundred pounds.

As it rolled forward, it realized I was gone and immediately hooked its claws onto the floorboards, producing a grating squeak-squeak.

I knew its next move would be to pivot and tear me to pieces to vent its frustration, so I frantically dug a glow stick out of my pocket and cracked it.

The moment the sickly green light emanated from the glow stick in my hand, several dark shapes flashed behind me; more Yu, chased by the Ming moths, scrambled onto the walkway, cutting off my retreat.

I believed these Yu intended to attack directly, but upon seeing the eerie green light I held, they clearly paused in astonishment, frozen for a moment.

I knew my time was limited; if the Ming moths below spotted the light, I would instantly become the target of all.

So, I used the brief reprieve to survey the surrounding Yu, desperately trying to devise an escape.

In doing so, I noticed that the Yu that had carried me up was significantly larger than the others, standing at least two meters tall when upright, and the black talons on its fingers appeared far sharper and more vicious than the rest.

Crucially, stuck between its claws were remnants of cloth scraps and flesh—it was clearly the one that had inflicted the fatal wound upon his!

My suppressed rage erupted instantly, nearly overriding my reason.

"Revenge... revenge..." I ground my teeth until my gums bled, swearing I would kill this beast, even if it cost me my life, to avenge him!

But I also knew that a direct confrontation now would only cost me my life needlessly, so I held back.

Coincidentally, at that moment, a massive Ming moth shot up like a rocket right past me, instantly banked, and dove straight for the glow stick in my hand.

Acting on pure instinct, I flung the glow stick toward the huge Yu on the opposite side, then threw my entire body forward and down.

The forward plunge, the moth's dive, and the Yu's claw slicing the glow stick all happened in the same second.

One second later, I watched a giant Ming moth scrape past my back and slam into the tree wall beside me with a sharp crack.

Then, the Yu in front of me began to shriek wildly because, having sliced the flying glow stick with its claws, the fluorescent dye had sprayed all over its upper body.

The glow stick I used was the 33MM model, specifically for cave exploration; the dye inside was enough to turn the creature’s upper half into a giant beacon, a living target for all the Ming moths.

However, its companions didn't seem to understand this; they thought the creature was on fire and rushed over, trying to smother the flames.

The result was a tangle of Yu wrestling together, almost all of them smeared with the glowing dye.

At that point, the Ming moth that had hit the tree wall also recovered and turned, pouncing on the glowing Yu, and they began to fight violently.

Bearing such immense weight, the ancient wooden walkway beneath them could not hold and began to emit loud kaka cracking sounds.

I jolted, knowing disaster was imminent, and quickly scrambled backward toward the opposite direction, grabbing a vine hanging down where the walkway had begun to break away.

A few seconds later, the floorboards below emitted a series of piercing, screeching groans before finally giving way completely under the strain.

I watched the glowing Yu and the struggling Ming moths, along with countless splinters of wood, plunge fifty or sixty meters down from the walkway, and a wave of relief washed over me.

Clinging to the vine, I climbed upward while looking down. I saw even more Ming moths dive-bombing the glowing Yu; those creatures were like flickering candles in a hurricane, quickly swallowed by countless dark shapes.

I dared not let my guard down, climbing desperately with all four limbs, finally reaching the next tier of the walkway and sprinting along it.

Soon, I reached the ladder where Grandpa and the others had climbed.

I pulled myself up to the top of the ladder and pushed against the wooden panel overhead, but exerting all my strength, I found I couldn't budge it, and my heart sank.

I muttered to myself, "Damn it! Did Grandpa and the others secure the panel from above?"

Though I felt this was highly likely, I couldn't give up, so I pressed my ear against the wooden panel to listen.