Chapter 79: Battle in the Jungle (III)

Minute by minute, time slipped away; today seemed interminably long. At last, night arrived. The mountains were rife with wild beasts, and darkness engulfed the endless forests. No matter how bold the mercenaries were, they certainly wouldn’t risk a futile pursuit in the black of night.

Still, Chen Erpao, ever cautious, ordered everyone to climb up into the thick branches of sturdy trees to rest. They lashed themselves tightly to the trunks with vines, so they wouldn’t accidentally fall asleep and tumble to their deaths—killed not by the enemy, but by their own carelessness.

The deep mountains at night were alive with the cries of countless animals, even the roars of ferocious creatures. Yet, after a day’s running, everyone slept soundly, undisturbed—including Chen Erpao himself.

A thick hiss echoed in the darkness—a giant python, as thick as a grown man’s arm, flicked its tongue, hanging from a branch. Its cold, bloodless eyes fixed upon its prey, glinting with a chilling light.

The snake, assured there was no danger, slithered quickly closer. Chen Erpao’s eyes remained shut; he had no idea that less than a meter behind him, a grotesque serpent’s head was stretching toward him.

The python opened its maw wide, releasing a foul, pungent stench that instantly jolted Chen Erpao awake. He opened his eyes in a flash.

At that moment, the python struck with unnatural speed, lunging for his throat.

Chen Erpao cursed inwardly and tried to dodge, but his body didn’t move at all—he remembered he’d bound himself tightly with vines for sleep.

The stench grew stronger, and at the critical moment, he jerked his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly bite. Only then did Chen Erpao see clearly what was attacking him.

The enormous snake head, mouth agape, was big enough to fit a football inside. Its body was massive, and its long form wound around the tree for several meters—truly a giant python.

Missing its strike, the python seemed enraged and lunged again. But Chen Erpao was no sacrificial lamb; his hands shot out like lightning, gripping the snake just below its head. No matter how wide it opened its jaws, it couldn’t reach him.

The python struggled fiercely, but found it couldn’t break free. Chen Erpao tried to call for help, but the python quickly coiled its body around him, wrapping him round and round until he was bound like a giant dumpling.

An unbearable pain and suffocating pressure surged through him. He felt his body being squeezed tighter and tighter; his once robust waist was now slimmer than any woman’s—better than any weight-loss pill.

The commotion woke the others, and they were momentarily stunned by what they saw. But when they noticed Chen Erpao’s distress, they snapped back to action and rushed to help. Yet, the distance between them wasn’t just a few trees—they weren’t on the same tree at all. Chen Erpao couldn’t pin his hopes on them.

“Man can conquer nature. I refuse to believe I can’t best this little earthworm!” At that moment, Chen Erpao’s eyes burned red, his fighting spirit ignited. Suddenly, he bit down hard on the python’s vital spot, and a mouthful of acrid, bloody taste flooded his senses.

The python seemed to go mad from the sudden agony, tightening its coils even more. Chen Erpao’s vision blurred.

“I won’t accept it—I won’t!” Chen Erpao screamed in his heart. Ignoring the acrid blood, he gulped down the python’s fresh blood.

He didn’t know how long it lasted; his stomach felt bloated, and a burning sensation swept through his body. The python’s strength waned, and its massive form gradually slackened.

Chen Erpao knew that if he let go, this cold-blooded beast would surely kill him if it had any strength left. So he kept drinking.

Only when the python was completely still did Chen Erpao finally release his grip. He looked at his blood-soaked clothes and broke into a radiant smile. But in the next instant, he felt his blood burning fiercely, his whole body suffused with heat.

“Ah…” Chen Erpao’s eyes were bloodshot, as if he would burst with rage. In the end, darkness overwhelmed him, and he fainted.

…

In boundless darkness, Chen Erpao wandered, lost and tormented, until he found a point of light. Slowly, he opened his eyes—blinding sunlight stung his vision. It was already morning.

“Brother Chen, you’re finally awake! We were so worried!” The group surrounded him, elated at his recovery.

Chen Erpao glanced at the python’s corpse nearby, confirming last night was no dream. His body no longer burned; instead, he felt inexhaustible strength. To his surprise, he had reached the first stage of Nirvana Sage mastery.

Chen Erpao was overjoyed at this unexpected reward. Upon reaching the first stage, his eyesight, hearing, speed, and resilience had all been greatly enhanced.

Naturally, he wanted to thank the python for its contribution. He ordered the group to skin the serpent and roast its meat.

Soon, the aroma of golden, juicy snake meat filled the air—by far the best meal they’d had in days.

After feasting, they had barely rested ten minutes when a chorus of wild beasts echoed from afar, and flocks of birds took flight.

Chen Erpao exclaimed, “Not good—they’re coming! Move!”

By the time Mars arrived, all that remained was the battered python corpse and lingering traces of savory scent.

Mars cast a cool glance at the python’s remains, examined the still-warm ashes, and barked, “Hurry! They just left!”

Perhaps from overeating, the group was soon overtaken by the mercenaries. Chen Erpao led everyone to a small, elevated hill and ordered them to draw their weapons, aiming at the advancing enemy.

The instant both sides were within range, a fierce firefight broke out. Bullets whistled endlessly. Though his men were elite, they were no match for the battle-hardened mercenaries—several soon fell, while only two enemies were killed.

Seeing this, Chen Erpao knew it couldn’t go on. He said, “I’ll circle around and draw their fire. You all run when you get the chance.”

“Brother Chen, if we die, we die together. If we go, we go together,” the remaining men declared, resolute and unafraid.

“This is an order,” Chen Erpao said solemnly, his tone brooking no refusal. “They can’t hurt me. Only this way do we all have hope.”

With that, Chen Erpao swiftly circled to the side. While the mercenaries’ attention was forward, he used the cover of grass and trees to sneak behind them with agility.

He found his speed was a third faster than before, and he couldn’t help but anticipate the second stage of Nirvana Sage.

Nine mercenaries remained. Chen Erpao gazed coldly at their backs, a cruel smile on his lips.

He raised his AK-47, aimed at a mercenary’s head, and fired. Blood splattered; the thrill of the kill was exhilarating. In a flash, he pulled the trigger again—another head burst.

Mars cursed and spun around, his submachine gun spitting fire. Chen Erpao rolled aside, taking cover behind a large tree.

Bullets thudded into the trunk. Chen Erpao peeked out—every mercenary was charging his way, leaving the previous battlefield calm. Seeing this, a smile crept across his face. He had no desire to see his brothers die one by one.

“Come on, you foreign bastards! I’ve got plenty of bullets for you!” Chen Erpao cursed loudly, drawing them toward him as he ran.