The "Striped Flood Dragon" must have crawled into the cavern from some other water hole. The ice-like crystal wall blocked its path as it lunged, and its bulky frame made it impossible to leap over the several-meter-high ice barrier. It could only thrust its massive jaws through the gap between the two large crystal slabs, its jawbone snagged on the outside. Its short, thick limbs scrabbled frantically behind it, desperate to shatter the crystal blocking its way.

Any creature that has survived for many years craves an "Inner Elixir." This is especially true for aquatic life—the eels, fish, turtles, and clams. Smooth, round pearls are the "Inner Elixirs" they most enjoy swirling in their mouths under the moonlight. Many ancient texts suggest this is a sign of gaining spiritual wisdom and absorbing vital energy over time; in reality, it is purely instinctual.

I exerted every ounce of my strength just to barely hold the two crystal eyeballs, which were about to roll into the water, at bay with my ice axe. But though the world is vast, enemies often meet in narrow paths. I hadn't anticipated the "Striped Flood Dragon" seizing the opportunity to shove its mouth in and interfere. With a mighty inhale, a foul, fishy gust of air, carrying the crystal eyeballs, was sucked into its maw. I watched, aghast. Though my heart burned with anxiety—getting in was easy, getting out was hard—those two "Striped Flood Dragons" that had been coveting the treasure pearls of Wind-Eroded Lake had likely battled the old bearded fish over them for ages. Once swallowed, no outsider could retrieve them. Although one of the two monstrous eels had already been smashed by the 'Thousand-Ton Stone Eye' ruins in the ancient city, even facing this single remaining "Striped Flood Dragon," we currently had no way to deal with it. This brute was thick-skinned, incredibly strong, and bullets did nothing to it. Trapped on the slick crystal floor, I could only watch, sinking into absolute despair.

The very instant the "Striped Flood Dragon" sucked the crystal eyeballs into its mouth, I heard a commotion behind me—it sounded like Uncle Ming and Fatty, dragging Ah Xiang, were fleeing down from the overhead beam. They must have trampled more of the piled-up dried corpses, causing people and bodies to tumble down in a heap. Before I could turn to see what was happening, I was violently shoved from behind by something. Whether it was the tumbling Fatty and the others, or the corpses collapsing under them, I couldn't tell, but the force was immense, sending me skidding forward off the crystal layer.

Pushed forward, I slid uncontrollably, having lost all mastery over my momentum. My head was sent directly toward the gaping, bloody maw of the "Striped Flood Dragon." In an instant, I was face-to-face, my head practically touching its lips. The beast's rancid breath made my forehead throb, and the rows of chilling fangs sent an icy wave through my body. But at that moment, I spotted two round objects slowly rolling backward inside the dragon's mouth, clearly about to slip down its throat. The Flood Dragon, with its immense biting power, had initially inhaled with its mouth only partially open; however, seeing me present myself, the greedy creature naturally wouldn't pass up an easy meal. It fully widened its jaws again, preparing to snap off my head and swallow it along with those two eyes.

I dared not contemplate the consequences. Relying on a sudden surge of reckless courage, as my body slid forward, I instinctively grabbed the ice axe beside me and thrust it straight out, using the axe as a brace. I jammed the ice axe vertically into the "Striped Flood Dragon's" enormous mouth, immediately propping its jaws wide open in a V-shape, preventing them from closing. Then, I slammed my head into the dragon's teeth, the climbing helmet ringing sharply against the impact. I held the upper palate with one hand and plunged the other entirely into its mouth, violently wrenching out the two crystal eyeballs. The moment I pulled my hand back, the Flood Dragon's massive jaws snapped shut. The ice axe, wedged between its upper and lower fangs, was ejected and splashed far into the water.

A wave of post-panic fear washed over me. If I had been half a second slower, my arm would be gone. Opening my palm, I saw the two spherical objects. Though obscured by sticky gastric fluid, saliva, and blood, they couldn't hide the faint dark red glow within. These were none other than the crystal corpse eyeballs consecrated to the City of Evil Luo Hai, which the "Reincarnation Sect" had placed in Wind-Eroded Lake. We had already surmised that the Ghost Mother’s brain might be buried beneath the City of Shadows, with her eyes placed in the underwater temple or somewhere at the bottom of the lake in the ancient city ruins. The constant attacks on the fish in Wind-Eroded Lake by the "Striped Flood Dragon" were due to the fight over these "Inner Elixirs" in the eyes of the water creatures. We never expected that, after being severely wounded by the old bearded fish, it would regurgitate them here in this cavern. We had just skirted death, almost losing the treasure after finally retrieving it, but fate had not abandoned us. Both offerings were now in my hands.

I hadn't even begun to process the sheer terror of reaching into the monstrous eel's mouth for the pearls when I noticed the "Striped Flood Dragon" behind the stone fissure erupting in a fit of furious rage. It clearly couldn't tolerate my actions. It backed up a few paces, then viciously slammed its head against the two large crystal ore slabs blocking its path. However, these mirror-like ores were integrated with the crystal vein strata and were quite solid. Coupled with the extremely slick crystal floor, it couldn't generate its full force. But the fissure was inverted triangular—narrow at the bottom, slightly wider at the top. The "Striped Flood Dragon" actually managed to wedge itself into the wider upper gap. Its thick body twisted and squeezed, suggesting it might actually crawl through.

I thought, This is bad. I need to scramble back over those mountains of dried corpses immediately and stuff the offerings into the pack. Just then, I noticed the low, rumbling thunder overhead had stopped. The only sounds in the cavern were the heavy breathing of man and beast. Suddenly, the sound of rifle fire erupted. Fatty, seeing the danger from atop the corpse pile, was shooting in support, but the bullets hitting the "Striped Flood Dragon's" head did no damage; they only amplified its frenzy.

Taking advantage of its entanglement in the fissure, I quickly used my feet against the crystalline rock to push myself backward. When my body hit the pile of corpses behind me, I realized the person who had bumped me earlier was Uncle Ming. He had tumbled down from the corpse pile beside me, looking utterly disheveled, frozen stiff by the sight of the ferocious eel. I grabbed his arm and desperately tried to scramble back onto the corpse pile.

I saw Fatty above continuing to fire, while Shirley Yang was trying to come down to assist. But moving on the mountain of corpses was nearly impossible; the harder she tried, the more stuck she seemed. I only heard Shirley Yang cry out anxiously, "Watch out behind you..."

I knew something was wrong without turning around—the "Striped Flood Dragon" must have gotten through. Contact with it, whether by bite or collision, meant certain death. But the corpse mountain was too treacherous to climb. I gave up trying to ascend, instead dragging Uncle Ming sideways off the middle of the corpse pile. That direction offered more uneven crystal hollows and prismatic crystals—more complex terrain that might temporarily slow the relentless Flood Dragon.

The fluorescence in the sacrificial cavern dimmed, seemingly not just because of the dark shadow overhead. As the dense rock smoke dispersed, the light in the lower levels also gradually faded, making everything appear hazy and indistinct. It seemed all the light in the cave was being absorbed by the "Great Black Heaven Thunder Mountain." However, this situation presented a temporary advantage for us. The reflections in the crystal stones were vague, no longer interfering with our sense of direction. Still, the shadowy surroundings caused a slight dizziness, making the terrain seem complex from several meters away. Up close, however, we realized there was only a wall of ice-like crystalline rock for temporary shelter.

Uncle Ming finally recovered his senses and, with me, took cover behind this large piece of crystal. Before we could steady ourselves, the "Striped Flood Dragon" slammed hard into the crystalline stone behind us. The impact sounded like striking a massive bronze bell, followed by a continuous, deep reverberation that left us feeling completely stunned—our bodies and minds seemed momentarily liquefied. Our vision blurred, and it took a full few seconds before we recovered.

While we were momentarily dazed from the violent impact on our crystalline shield, the "Striped Flood Dragon" launched its second assault. This time, having learned my lesson, I quickly pulled my body away from the crystal stone. Turning, I saw that the large, translucent crystal block behind us was now riddled with several cracks from the impact. One or two more hits, and the "Striped Flood Dragon" would smash through the wall.

Seeing that we were cornered, with crystal veins jutting out around us on two sides, and a pile of dried corpses to our right—easy to tumble down onto, impossible to climb up quickly—we had no immediate escape route. To our right was the water hole near the dying fish, but jumping into the water under the Flood Dragon’s pursuit would be suicide.

At this moment, Uncle Ming panicked: "Brother Hu, we can't hold it! Run for your lives..." The string of events today must have destabilized him mentally. Judging by his actions, this was no act. He scrambled headfirst, feet backward, into a very shallow crystal hollow. He called it an erosion pit in the crystal vein, but it was only about the thickness of a bucket and not deep at all. Uncle Ming only managed to get halfway in before hitting bottom, his two legs and rear end sticking out. I heard him muttering to himself inside the hole, "It’s safe enough here. Just use your brains, and everything will be fine." But then he realized his lower body was still exposed. Whether confused or simply resigned, he comforted himself: "At worst, I'll sacrifice the legs."

At this point, Shirley Yang, along with Ah Xiang and Fatty, climbed down from the corpse pile to join me. Seeing their anxious faces, I guessed the overhead beam area and the sacrificial altar were no longer safe. I hadn't had a chance to check what exactly was happening above, but now that we were all together, we could at least coordinate our movements.

Just as we were about to pull Uncle Ming out of the hole, as his speech was growing increasingly nonsensical, the crystal mass behind us suddenly collapsed. The "Striped Flood Dragon" had finally smashed through the crystal layer, less than half a meter thick, on its third impact. Everyone ducked instinctively. The Flood Dragon used the momentum of its leap to soar over our heads and slammed into another crystal layer on the opposite side. Another deafening boom echoed, showering us with shattered crystal dust. The monstrous body fell heavily to the ground, but its sheer force carried it past, rolling twice to the side before finally stopping.

The water pool was directly behind us, next to the pile of dried corpses, now completely blocked by the "Striped Flood Dragon." Realizing escape was impossible, I hardened my heart for a final stand. I pulled out my I911, ready to fire, but just then, the "Striped Flood Dragon" violently convulsed. A sound of bones shattering echoed from within its body, and blood streamed from its mouth and nostrils. The ferocious beast collapsed onto the ground like a soft, flattened rag—it was dead.

For a moment, we were stunned, none of us daring to believe what we saw. The internal organs and skeleton of the "Striped Flood Dragon" had been pulverized into mush. Though there were no external wounds, its body had lost all form. This happened in one or two seconds—it was too fast, too unbelievable. It had simply thrown itself against something and died there. What exactly happened? If it was attacked, why didn't we see it? The thought sent a deep chill down my spine. Was the enemy invisible to the naked eye? Could it truly be the malevolent spirit of the ore, the "Great Black Heaven Thunder Mountain"? If it could dispatch the "Striped Flood Dragon" in an instant, killing a few humans would surely be child's play.

The group paused, but then noticed that beneath the Flood Dragon's liquefied corpse, the crystal layer of the ground had turned black. This blackness was starkly prominent even in the dim light—a deep, empty blackness, like black ink flowing within the crystal strata, slowly creeping toward us.

More than half the crystal layers in the entire cavern had turned black; little remained of the uncorrupted crystal. Visibility dropped lower and lower. The "Great Black Heaven Thunder Mountain" had indeed emerged. We didn't know what it was or precisely how it killed the Flood Dragon, but we knew that touching those blackened crystal layers meant meeting the same fate as the unlucky eel—dying without ever knowing how.

Uncle Ming, who was still hiding in the hole with only his legs showing, was closest to the encroaching blackened crystals. Seeing the danger, Fatty and I each grabbed one of his legs and yanked him out of the pit. Shirley Yang pulled Ah Xiang along, and the five of us hastily retreated backward. But in all directions—up, down, and sideways—it was like being enveloped by spilled ink; we were completely surrounded with no path left.

We had no choice but to jump into the water hole where the old bearded fish was. It was a small pool within the crystal layer. Though small in diameter, it was incredibly deep. Without oxygen tanks, swimming out was impossible. Even with tanks, the underwater path was unknown, risking us getting lost and running out of air. Trapped with nowhere to go, we could only tread water and float. The moment we entered the water, the entire cavern was swallowed by that inky substance spilling out of the crystal layers.

We jumped into the water in sheer panic, but by chance, it seemed that substance could only exist within crystals or rock and could not enter the water. We were temporarily safe here, but looking at the bigger picture, we had no food and no exit strategy. How long could we last trapped here? What meaning was there in living just a few moments longer?

In the pitch-black cavern, a deathly silence reigned. Within half a minute, it was so dark we couldn't see our own hands. We switched on the tactical spotlights attached to our climbing helmets. The beams pierced the dark ocean, faint as firefly lights, yet offering a small measure of comfort amidst the despair.

I checked my surroundings, confirming that whatever was in the crystal layers would not enter the water. I let out a bitter laugh. Now look at us. After exhausting ourselves to collect both the Phoenix Gall and the Crystal Eyes, we were just steps away from shedding this immense burden, but we were still a step too late. Now, it was too late; we’d just have to soak here until morning, becoming bloated, dead floaters.

Fatty grumbled, blaming Uncle Ming for wasting the critical time we needed to survive. "It’s not that we want some class reckoning," he insisted, "but we can’t let him off easy. He owes us compensation for emotional distress, and he’ll have to pay it even in the underworld. What do we do about this debt, Old Hu?"

Uncle Ming was genuinely terrified of both Fatty and me. He reluctantly turned to Shirley Yang for help. Shirley Yang told us, "Alright, stop scaring Uncle Ming. He’s an old man, it hasn’t been easy for him either. Let's focus on finding a way out. We can’t just soak here until tomorrow like Old Hu suggested."

I was about to speak when Ah Xiang suddenly shrieked, "Ay-yah!" In the earlier chaos, someone must have kicked a dried corpse’s arm into the water, and it floated near her, startling her.

I pulled the floating corpse arm out of the water and said to Ah Xiang, "Sister Ah Xiang, this is a good thing! Look, although this corpse arm is withered, the flesh hasn't decayed. That means it's a genuine Jiangshi (hopping vampire). Take it back to Hong Kong, boil it up, and eat it. It will do you a world of good."

Shirley Yang and Ah Xiang shook their heads, disbelieving—who had the mood for joking at a time like this? Fatty said, "Old Hu, I truly admire you now. I always thought we were equally brave, but in this situation, you’re still making jokes. That level of reckless indifference isn't something everyone possesses. But joke all you want, talking nonsense is bad. Are you starving? You even want to eat a Jiangshi?"

I told them, "You people really lack knowledge. Jiangshi meat can be used as medicine; it’s clearly recorded in ancient books, especially for treating injuries involving missing limbs. Back when Liu Yu’s sand miners in Henan dug up the tomb of Emperor Zhezong of the Song Dynasty, they found the emperor had turned into a Jiangshi, his flesh so white and translucent it looked like it was weeping liquid. So, everyone took a piece to use later for sword or arrow wounds. Even foreigners acknowledge the high medicinal value of mummies. How can you say I'm talking nonsense?"

I had only spoken casually, trying to lighten the mood and ease everyone's tension, but Shirley Yang seemed to have an idea sparked by my words. She took the corpse arm from my hand and said, "I've got it. Maybe we still have a chance to return to the altar above."

Shirley Yang explained that the ancient legend described the "Great Black Heaven Thunder Mountain" as an evil spirit that controlled minerals. But Ah Xiang couldn't see anything unclean in the cavern. Connecting that to the eel's bizarre death—which looked like it was killed by some form of resonance, perhaps "infrasound" or "crystal tremor"—she hypothesized that since the name included "Thunder Mountain," it likely used a sound we couldn't hear to kill. The most probable cause was "crystal tremor." If we could stack the dried corpses high enough to walk across them to the altar without touching the cavern's mineral surfaces, we might dampen the "crystal tremor" to a harmless level. When we saw the crystal layers turn black, including those on the overhead beam, we fled down from the corpse pile. Thinking back now, maybe the corpse pile was the safest place all along.

After Shirley Yang finished speaking, Fatty and I conferred. Rather than slowly drowning in the water, we might as well risk the attempt; perhaps there was a path to survival. But we were some distance from the corpse pile. We had to use the same method as before: connecting our webbing straps, hanging our ice axes, and throwing them over to hook distant bodies, using the eye-gouged corpses as paving stones. We kept mumbling apologies for the offense, but then reasoned that language might not translate, so we stopped caring and just went for it, stacking the corpses thick layer by layer. This tactic turned out to be surprisingly feasible, though it required immense effort, and we couldn't afford any slip-ups, or falling onto the crystal layer would spell doom.

As we were busy moving the cadavers, we heard a series of sharp cracking sounds from the previously calm area overhead. Everyone stopped what they were doing. The top was a black void; we couldn't see a thing, but the sound suggested the clusters of crystalline spikes above were cracking and about to fall.