Chapter 188

Chapter 188

Kalu stared at the potion bottle, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he didn’t reach for it.

He looked up at Evan, the hostility in his eyes fading slightly, turning complicated: “You think the Unicorn Python is some roadside stray dog? They all guard their territories, especially areas with Sea Heart Stone radiation—those pythons are the most venomous and the densest. The Colonial Force is searching that area right now. You’d be walking into your death.”

“I’m not going to the Sea Heart Stone area.” Evan pulled out his mission booklet, flipping to the page on the Unicorn Python, and pointed at the notes: “It says here that the ‘Decayed Leaf Valley’ on the west side of the rainforest also has Unicorn Python activity. It’s far from the Colonial Force’s search range, and the miasma is lighter. I just need one gallbladder. No need to go messing with the Sea Heart Stone.”

Kalu was stunned, clearly not expecting this “Sala Person” to actively avoid conflict. He was silent for a moment, then finally reached out and took the anti-venom potion, uncorked it, and chugged half the bottle. The cool liquid slid down his throat, and the throbbing in his leg eased up a lot.

“The Unicorn Python in Decayed Leaf Valley is the ‘Green-Scaled’ variant. It’s less venomous than the Red-Scaled kind, but faster. I’ll draw you a map, marking the landmarks and trap spots—those are the ones our hunters use to keep snakes away.”

He grabbed a charred stick of charcoal and quickly sketched onto the bark: thick lines for rivers, triangle symbols for poisonous vines, and circles for tree hollows where one could hide.

“When you see ‘Three-Fingered Fern,’ turn left—that’s the entrance to Decayed Leaf Valley. If you run into a snake, don’t run in a straight line; loop around the Arrow Bamboo Grove—they can’t keep up.” With that, he pulled a necklace of animal teeth and shells from his neck and handed it to Evan: “The shaman blessed this. It’ll keep small swarms of venomous bugs off you.”

Evan took the necklace, the cool animal teeth pressed against his chest. The silver badge in the watch’s compartment trembled slightly—not a warning tremor, more like a resonance. He handed Kalu the rest of his jerky and water: “Wait here for Old Shark. He’ll come to get you. If the Colonial Force shows up, climb to the treetops—your hunters’ lookout platforms are up there.”

Kalu didn’t speak, just waved his hand, signaling him to go quickly.

Evan committed the map on the bark to memory, then turned and grabbed the vine ladder to slide down. As soon as he hit the ground, he heard Kalu’s shout from above: “There’s a patch of glowing moss in the center of Decayed Leaf Valley—don’t go near it at night!”

Evan shouted back “Got it,” then turned and plunged into the rainforest. Following Kalu’s directions, he soon found the Three-Fingered Fern, its leaves indeed shaped like three-fingered forks. He moved along the direction the ferns grew, the fallen leaves underfoot getting thicker, like walking on cotton. The insect calls around him shifted, turning sharp and urgent—this was what Kalu meant by “snake activity signals.”

Evan slowed his pace, pulling out the dagger at his waist. The animal-tooth necklace in his palm grew slightly warm. Suddenly, the pile of decayed leaves ahead stirred, and a greenish shadow shot out, carrying a stinking gust straight for his ankle.

Evan was ready. He rolled sharply to the side, dodging the lethal strike—it was the Green-Scaled Unicorn Python Kalu had warned him about, its silver horn glinting faintly in the shade, its forked tongue flicking, its eyes cold with murderous intent.

The Green-Scaled Unicorn Python struck like a green lightning bolt. Evan only had time to catch the glint of its silver horn before the foul wind hit his nose.

He instinctively ducked, using the evasive stance from his military academy combat class, and kicked hard at the Arrow Bamboo Grove to his side—the bamboo stalks shook violently, sending sharp-edged leaves sweeping toward the snake’s head, while he used the recoil to shoot backward like an arrow, two meters away, his back slamming heavily into a tree trunk as thick as a bowl, showering leaves down.

Before he could catch his breath, the decayed leaves on the ground suddenly rippled. The Green-Scaled Unicorn Python slid along the ground, its body taut like a drawn bowstring, its open mouth dripping with pale purple venom, its forked tongue nearly licking the tip of his boot.

Evan finally got a full view of it: over five meters long, a body as thick as a bowl covered in overlapping green scales, each scale’s edge gleaming with a metallic cold light. The silver horn on its head was about a finger long, with a drop of transparent venom at the tip that, when it fell on the decayed leaves, instantly burned a small hole, white smoke rising.

“Speed is double that of the Red-Scaled variant.” Evan recalled Kalu’s warning, tightening his grip on the “Sharp” dagger—a second-hand supernatural weapon he’d bought at the Palm Leaf Club for half a gold coin. The blade was only as long as a forearm but emitted a faint cold light. Its only supernatural property was “unbreakable sharpness,” perfect for dealing with scaled creatures. He didn’t attack first but spread his feet shoulder-width apart, assuming a knight’s defensive stance, his eyes locked on the snake’s eyes—one of the most vulnerable spots on a python.

The Green-Scaled Unicorn Python seemed to sense his readiness. It suddenly stopped its attack, lifting its head slightly, the glow on its silver horn brightening. The surrounding insect calls vanished instantly, even the rustle of wind through leaves died down. In Decayed Leaf Valley, only Evan’s heavy breathing and the python’s abdominal hissing remained.

Suddenly, it whipped its tail, a bowl-thick snake tail cutting through the air with a whoosh toward the Arrow Bamboo Grove. With a “crack,” several bamboo stalks as thick as bowls snapped cleanly, the breaks as smooth as if cut by a blade—a show of force, a test of his reaction.

Evan stood still, only subtly adjusting his grip on the dagger, his left hand reaching for the flint at his waist—his last resort.

Just then, the Green-Scaled Unicorn Python launched its attack, not a straight lunge but a sudden coil of its body, like a green noose, instantly wrapping around his legs.

The cold scales pressed against his skin, the immense force transmitted through the snake’s body. Evan could clearly feel his leg bones groaning under the strain, blood flow becoming difficult.

He was ready. Leveraging the snake’s constriction, he threw himself backward, simultaneously driving the dagger into the gap between the snake’s scales—the python’s weak spot, unprotected by heavy armor.

The moment the dagger pierced in, Evan clearly felt the blade cutting through muscle resistance, followed by a gush of hot snake blood splashing onto his face, carrying a thick, fishy stench. The Green-Scaled Unicorn Python let out a sharp hiss of pain, its constriction force suddenly intensifying. Evan’s ribs ached, and his vision went dark.

“Hold on!” Evan told himself. The extreme endurance training from his knightly drills kicked in. He gritted his teeth, mobilizing every muscle to resist the snake’s crushing grip, while his right hand pushed the dagger deeper, twisting it—he needed to find the python’s spinal nerve.

The dagger’s “sharpness” property shone in that moment. Even as the snake’s muscles contracted violently, the blade cut through like butter, sliding in smoothly until it hit a hard bone—the python’s spine.

The Green-Scaled Unicorn Python’s struggles grew more frantic. It dragged Evan across the decayed leaves, its head slamming into a nearby tree trunk. Evan’s forehead was scraped, blood instantly flowing, blurring his vision.

He wiped his face roughly, using the sting of blood to sharpen his focus, and yanked the dagger out, then stabbed again at the spot seven inches below the snake’s head—the vital point for all snakes, even supernatural ones. This time, the python’s scales were exceptionally hard. The dagger only penetrated half an inch before getting stuck, and no matter how hard Evan pushed, he couldn’t drive it deeper.