Chapter 6: Overcoming the Enemy with Blazing Flames

Soon, the faint glow emanating from the Stone of Transmission appeared ahead once more, and Wei Cheng and his companions found themselves back in the main mining tunnel. Here, the scent of blood had vanished, replaced instead by thick layers of spiderweb carpeting the ground.

Wei Cheng led the way, basket on his back and pickaxe in hand, his senses sharpened to the utmost. Though he had been frightened out of his wits just days prior, today he was unusually resolute. Even knowing full well that Zhang Yong, that cunning brat, harbored ill intentions, he was determined to take this chance—for he understood there would be no other.

He could not simply retrieve the two pieces of vegetable cake he had hidden away and nurture another selfless, ambitious-less Zixia martial artist willing to die for him.

The exit grew ever closer, but so did the density of the webs. Wei Cheng was forced to slash through them with his pickaxe, yet still found himself ensnared, the sticky silk clinging to his legs and feet, as though he had stepped into a pool of industrial glue, unpleasant in the extreme. When the webs touched his skin, a burning sensation flared.

Was the spider silk poisonous?

Instinctively, Wei Cheng channeled his internal Mountain Moving energy. Though not as extravagant as Zixia energy, which shrouded its bearer in three inches of purple glow, the fiery pain faded quickly, and the cost was negligible.

Indeed, Mountain Moving energy was exceptional for defense.

Ahead, the mine opened into a chamber roughly the size of a basketball court. In its center hovered the three-meter-tall Stone of Transmission, casting a ghostly light. A giant black spider, the size of a heavy truck, prowled the perimeter, while the ground and surrounding rock walls were thick with silk and hundreds of smaller spiders, each as large as a basin, scurrying rapidly about.

Wei Cheng’s scalp tingled at the sight, his heart pounding. Everything was different now, utterly changed from days before.

It proved that Director Shen’s earlier judgment was spot on—they should have stormed out when there was still strength in numbers; perhaps the spider demon could have been slain. But now, fifty men had dwindled to five, while the boss had gained hundreds of minions, along with area attacks.

“What—what do we do? I have a wife and child at home…” Wei Cheng heard the bald man behind him quivering, even Zhang Yong, the little tyrant who once swaggered about, was silent.

“Maybe we should find more people, or another to cultivate the Zixia Heart Method…” The old man fidgeted with his ancestral abacus; Zhang Yong still possessed some pure water, enough to elevate Wu Yin to the innate martial stage.

For a moment, even Zhang Yong seemed tempted. After all, he was only a freshman, barely out of high school just months ago.

“War is courage…” Wei Cheng suddenly muttered, trembling. He was afraid, but resolved not to repeat his past mistakes.

“Kill!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, snatching a piece of Flame Ore from his basket. Like a man with nothing to lose, he charged out, hoping to lure the Stone Demon into the spider demon’s territory.

If all else failed, he would detonate the Flame Ore and perish together. Truly, that was all he could think of.

The others were stunned, but even the bald man gritted his teeth and followed, while the old man, Zhang Yong, and Wu Yin remained frozen in terror, barely daring to breathe, lest the elusive Stone Demon target them.

Yet it did not appear; its domain seemed distinct from the spider demon’s.

Wei Cheng’s mind went blank, his heart racing. After only a few steps, his legs felt leaden, sinking deeper into the webbed mire—the harder he struggled, the less he could move.

He had underestimated the thickness of the webs.

The old man, Zhang Yong, and Wu Yin, seeing the danger, quickly retreated, offering no help. The bald man fared worse; nerves got the better of him and he fell, soon enveloped in white webs, rolling and thrashing as the silk tightened with every movement.

From every direction, the small spiders converged, like sharks drawn to blood.

“Damn!” Wei Cheng cursed, throwing caution to the wind. He frantically channeled Mountain Moving energy and rubbed the Flame Ore with desperate speed. Within moments, layers of red light and fire leapt forth, wild and perilous.

With hair singed and nerves frayed, Wei Cheng hurled the ore toward the giant spider. But it had barely left his hand, not five meters from him, when it detonated mid-air. A terrifying blaze swept through the chamber, the shockwave flinging Wei Cheng skyward and then slamming him back down.

Even with a lifetime’s worth of Mountain Moving energy shielding him, he was knocked senseless, his internal force scattering and his body feeling broken, his vision flashing, ears ringing.

Then the agony set in—his entire body was aflame.

His sole remaining instinct was to roll desperately on the ground, gathering what internal energy he could, his last hope for survival.

Unbeknownst to Wei Cheng, wherever he rolled, the fire followed, and the previously bloodthirsty spiders shrieked and fled from the flames, those too slow were engulfed and incinerated.

Worst off was the giant spider. Though the chamber was spacious, it was a deathtrap for it; as the fire surged, the webs it spewed only served to roast it further.

The inferno kept everyone else at bay, but at the same time, hope flickered in their hearts. None cared for Wei Cheng or the bald man, screaming amid the blaze.

No one believed they could survive such a sea of fire.

But in truth, even Wei Cheng and the bald man underestimated the defensive power of Mountain Moving energy, especially with such a profound reserve cultivated over sixty years.

Wei Cheng had merely been stunned from the impact; as his senses returned and he gathered his internal force, he realized the burning pain was rapidly diminishing.

Of course, the expenditure of energy was enormous.

“Wei, the stone!” the bald man shouted from across the firestorm. He had avoided the blast and stood thirty meters from the Stone of Transmission, while Wei Cheng, propelled by the explosion, now lay only five or six meters from it.

Wei Cheng understood instantly and, still ablaze, rushed toward the stone.

Almost simultaneously, five or six figures darted from the depths of the mine. There were many clever ones; they knew whoever touched the stone first might reap the greatest reward.

All of them, without exception, had cultivated the Mountain Moving Method. As long as they avoided the main inferno, the remaining heat and scattered flames posed little threat.

They were fast, but some were faster still—those who practiced the Swift Swallow Method.

“Damn you! How dare you steal my kill!” Zhang Yong finally reacted, shrouded in purple energy as he charged. His speed rivaled those with the Swift Swallow Method.

But none could match Wei Cheng.

By the time Wei Cheng, still ablaze, reached the stone, the others were more than ten meters behind.

And at that very instant, the Stone of Transmission shone with an intensely bright light. Everyone recognized this radiance—it was the miraculous glow that invigorated the spirit and heightened physical potential, but, unfortunately, it shone only on Wei Cheng.

In a moment, Wei Cheng’s pain and burns visibly healed. He felt as if bathed in warm sunlight—clear-headed and refreshed.

Regrettably, it lasted only two seconds. As Zhang Yong arrived second, the light vanished.

Still, he managed to touch the stone, but it had already shrunk by half.

Then came the third, the fourth; by the time the tenth person touched it, the stone disappeared completely.