Chapter Eight: Lord Egg's Life in Peril (Part Two)

“Egg, catch!” Dragon’s voice rang out from behind.

Egg glanced back and saw a blazing fireball hurtling toward him. He instinctively ducked and spun around, snatching the umbrella handle mid-turn. Now holding two umbrellas, one in each hand, he clashed their canopies together, sending sparks flying in a shower of light.

The falling embers quickly burned away the spiderwebs, leaving nothing behind. The intense firelight seemed to frighten the spider demons—or perhaps the brightness simply drove them away—as their numbers had noticeably dwindled.

Dragon was soon by Egg’s side, taking one of the umbrellas and swinging it left and right, wary of sudden attacks from lurking spiders. Egg, emboldened, swung his umbrella with wild abandon, as if commanding countless troops. The umbrella’s fabric, already burned away, left only the metal ribs, which scraped across the ground with shrill, persistent squeals.

“Dragon, look at these spider demons—they’re terrified of fire! Burn! Burn! Burn them all! Let’s see if they dare come for your Egg again!” Egg was overtaken by a feverish excitement, vengeful and almost delirious, his eyes bloodshot and wild.

“Egg, we’re running out of time! Hurry up!” Dragon pushed Egg from behind.

Egg turned and shot Dragon a look. Dragon was startled; Egg’s eyes were now streaked with veins of red, radiating a murderous air, as if bewitched.

Egg was never like this before. The spider’s venom must have reached his brain. If they didn’t find the antidote soon, who knew what other symptoms might emerge.

Egg himself saw only a fiery blur before him, the lingering afterimage of the inferno. He hadn’t realized how much he’d changed under the venom’s influence.

Though Dragon’s shove annoyed him, Egg still retained enough sense. Together, they charged forward, flaming umbrellas in hand, toward the only door. By then, the umbrella carried only a burning rag, still smoldering. The heavy oil soaked into it dripped down as it burned, leaving rows of charred spider corpses in their wake. But much oil was lost along the way, and at this rate, they couldn’t fend off the pursuing demons.

Dragon, sweating profusely, watched the fire dwindle. He feared that Egg would collapse before the oil ran out, and then both would end up as a feast for the spiders, reduced to nothing but dry husks. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine.

They had made it past the door, but Dragon worried the spiders would soon follow. He shrugged off his jacket, ignited it with their makeshift torch, and tossed it at the doorway, hoping to buy some time.

With torches in hand, Dragon and Egg surveyed their surroundings. It appeared they had entered a new burial chamber. Unlike the previous hall’s open space, this chamber was tight and labyrinthine.

“This is like a maze! Every room has a door, but each is barely seven or eight square meters!” Egg exclaimed. Their urgent task now was to find the antidote for Egg.

The spider demons were held at bay outside; there was no guidance now, only slow searching and careful observation. Dragon noted that, beyond this door, there were no spider webs or traces. It meant the spiders hadn’t reached this area—there might still be hope of finding the cure.

But every room was small, and each had three doors upon entry. Each wall had a door of identical size, two meters tall and one and a half meters wide. Peering through each doorway revealed the same structure, though the number of doors varied from room to room.

“Egg, have you noticed your eyes are red as blood? Your attitude’s changed, too! Don’t do anything rash.” Dragon’s comment made Egg realize something was indeed different.

“I’m as good as dead—shouldn’t you be saving time? If I go, how will you get out?” Even now, Egg worried about Dragon, proof his mind wasn’t fully clouded.

“I noticed that some rooms have bits of moss in the corners, others don’t. Moss grows only in damp, dark, and well-ventilated places after many years. If we follow the rooms with moss, we’ll find the exit.”

“Then what are you waiting for? Let’s go!” Egg replied impatiently. His body was weakening, sweat beading on his brow, and when he touched his forehead, it was burning hot.

Dragon guided Egg through the maze, left and right, and before long, they found a new exit. But before them was a waterfall.

Egg, now feverish and spent, collapsed to the ground.

“Egg! Egg! Wake up! Wake up!” Dragon called out, but Egg’s gaze was vacant; his eyelids barely fluttered before falling still.

Dragon took off his gloves and scooped water from the waterfall. The water was fresh and cool. He dashed back and forth, pouring water over Egg’s head to cool him down, then gave him some to drink. When someone is feverish, cooling and hydration are vital; with no medicines or external resources, only these and the strength of one’s will can help.

Many factors influence a person’s body. During this time, Egg’s fever flared several times, but Dragon, using the waterfall’s water, managed to bring it down. After much effort, Egg’s temperature returned to normal. The venom on his neck had faded and begun to shrink.

“Heaven never closes all roads,” Dragon murmured, finally taking in their surroundings after the emergency.

In the center of the waterfall stood a tree, reaching all the way to the top, immense and majestic. Its trunk was as thick as a ginkgo, impossible for two men to encircle, but its leaves resembled palm fronds. Water streamed down from its crown, meaning rain fell outside. Looking up, the space narrowed, and because this burial chamber lay on the turtle’s side, it sat lower than other parts, causing water to pour in. At first, he’d mistaken it for a natural waterfall.

The waterfall chamber was vast and hexagonal, each wall with a door at its center, and the distance between opposite corners was at least twenty meters.

“Dragon, what are you looking at?” A familiar voice reached Dragon’s ears.

“Egg, you’re awake!” Dragon rushed to his side, barely containing his excitement.