Volume One: The Spiral Carving Chapter Nineteen: Cave Expedition Part Two: The Dance of Skeletons

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Chen Fan pulled a mirror from his backpack, attempting to use its reflection to observe the situation outside the passage. However, just as he extended the mirror a little, gunshots rang out. Glass shards scattered everywhere as the mirror in his hand shattered instantly.

“You’re truly remarkable, even more troublesome than Song Yun. But he already died at my hands, so you won’t escape either! You must die!” Feng Ming, now crazed, shouted furiously at Chen Fan, angrier than ever before.

“He actually killed Song Yun...” Chen Fan’s heart stirred, and he found himself somewhat grateful to this man. It would have been difficult for him alone to kill Song Yun.

He sighed deeply. This man was, in a way, a good person. His only flaw was his insistence on opposing Chen Fan.

Well then... that’s no fault of mine!

A cold glint flashed in his eyes.

“I’m coming; keep running!” Feng Ming’s voice rang out as he stepped forward, pressing his right foot firmly onto the viscous liquid, then took slow, arduous steps toward Chen Fan.

The black muzzle of the gun remained fixed on Chen Fan’s position. If Chen Fan dared to expose even the slightest bit of his head, he would shoot immediately—without hesitation.

From the left passage, Chen Fan’s eyes gleamed coldly. When Feng Ming drew close enough, he pulled out his sniper rifle, aimed at the right passage, and fired boldly.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The shots echoed continuously. Sparks flew as bullets pierced through the thick viscous liquid wall, creating holes one by one in Chen Fan’s line of sight.

Through the holes, he finally glimpsed the interior of the right passage: a row of... glistening green eyes!

A roar erupted—a monstrous bellow that shook the entire cave. Chen Fan retracted his rifle and sprinted deeper into the left passage.

Boom!

The monster charged out from the right passage. Chen Fan glanced back in alarm—it was a black spider, as large as a water buffalo, with two rows of eyes on its head and massive mandibles like giant scissors, dripping with purple saliva.

Its body was covered in gray fur, each strand sharp as a steel needle, piercing into the stone walls.

Chen Fan averted his gaze and quickened his pace.

The spider raised its head, glanced toward Chen Fan’s direction, seemingly wary, then roared and turned its attention to Feng Ming.

Feng Ming’s face paled. His feet were stuck fast in the viscous ground, drastically slowing his movements, making retreat impossible.

Killing intent blazed in his eyes. He knew Chen Fan had tricked him and hated him all the more for it.

But now was no time for emotions, for this water-buffalo-sized spider was a first-level mutant creature, matching his strength.

Moreover, the cave was its home turf—any misstep could be fatal, perhaps even leading to death by its mandibles.

A fierce battle was imminent!

The cave trembled violently with thunderous rumbling. Dust billowed from the cracks, enveloping the entire cavern.

“I will kill you sooner or later! You can’t escape!” Feng Ming’s voice came from afar, filled with intense hatred.

Chen Fan ignored him and moved forward, constantly scanning his surroundings.

His instincts told him the deeper he went, the more dangerous it would become, yet there was no turning back.

He could only hope for a fork in the path ahead, with one route leading directly outside the mountain.

He didn’t want to continue; encountering more terrifying monsters would only worsen his predicament.

As he moved, Chen Fan felt his body nearly falling apart. Looking down, he saw his flesh ripple like waves with each step, the cause being countless fine cracks covering his skin.

Whenever his flesh trembled, these fissures opened, revealing the blood and bone beneath.

The pain was unbearable, yet he remained silent, enduring it quietly.

The pain worsened, nearly killing him, so he hastily pulled a white cloth from his backpack to bandage his wounds.

His injuries were difficult to control; blood seeped through the cracks, quickly staining the pristine white cloth red.

After catching his breath, he pressed onward. Despite the agony, his gaze grew ever more resolute.

He felt certain he must have been a water buffalo in a past life, for only a buffalo could endure such suffering—no matter the hardship or pain, biting down and persevering without flinching.

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Endure it or die trying—there was no other choice!

He was also grateful to have mastered the Zhen Technique, a secret art at the cellular level that had tempered every cell within his body.

When activating the Zhen Technique, each cell emitted independent red electrical currents, and even when not in use, his cells remained far stronger than normal.

Because every cell in his body was far more powerful than ordinary cells, he had survived until now. Otherwise, he would have already died from hemorrhaging or organ failure.

After ten minutes, he stopped, furrowing his brows tightly as he looked down at the ground.

Two rows of huge holes appeared on the ground, each as large as a regular washbasin.

Upon closer inspection, each hole was about a foot deep, inhabited by strange insects.

Chen Fan’s expression grew serious. Though he didn’t know what beast had made these openings, it was obviously a formidable creature.

Perhaps even more troublesome than the water-buffalo-sized spider.

As he pressed onward, the stench in the air thickened.

It was... the foul odor of decay.

Nauseating.

Suddenly, a clattering sound echoed from the depths, followed by a black silhouette rushing swiftly toward Chen Fan.

“What is that?” Chen Fan’s pupils trembled as he drew his long knife and hurried forward.

At a glance, his soul seemed to shatter, for charging at him was a blood-stained skeleton!

Judging by the shape of the pelvis, it was a woman’s remains.

The clattering noise came from its jawbones striking each step.

Though dead, Chen Fan sensed a twisted madness radiating from its posture.

He narrowed his eyes, unwilling to let it approach, so he drew his rugged pistol and aimed at its skull.

Bang!

The shot rang out, shattering its head in midair, but its lower half still rushed toward him.

He fired downward again, shattering its leg bones.

With a crackling sound, it finally stopped running but crawled toward him, fingers clawing at the ground.

Chen Fan’s eyes gleamed fiercely as he raised his foot and crushed its body.

This time, it was truly motionless.

Suppressing his unease, Chen Fan strode forward.

Half an hour later, he stopped and looked ahead.

About twenty meters away lay a massive pile of bones.

The mound of skeletons was three meters high, resembling a hill.

Yellow-headed centipedes the length of arms crawled over the bones, while white-headed centipedes burrowed in and out from the base.

His gaze swept across the bone hill to a huge karst cave beyond.

His brow furrowed even tighter, for the cavern was also filled with skeletons—some weathered to stone-like hardness, others still bright red, and several even oozing blood.

There were human bones and animal bones alike.

This was a vast... graveyard.

Chen Fan took three steps back, scanning left and right for a fork in the path, but found none.

His expression darkened immensely. He knew he had entered a monster’s domain.

It had likely marked him as its target.

A roar echoed.

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As Chen Fan pondered, the centipedes atop the bone mound stirred, raising their upper bodies and opening their mandibles to hiss at him, then surged forward amidst clattering sounds.

At first, Chen Fan thought there were only a few centipedes, but moments later, his expression grew grave.

One after another, thousands of centipedes erupted from beneath the bone mound, crawling up walls and covering every surface, leaving no open ground.

Chen Fan retreated repeatedly, finally understanding why the giant spider had blocked the right passage with viscous liquid: to prevent these centipedes from invading its territory through the left passage.

He rummaged through his system backpack, eyes lighting up as he found a bottle of potent insecticide.

Thanks to his habit of scavenging everything useful, no matter what, he always packed it for emergencies.

Now, the deadly insecticide finally proved its worth.

Gripping the spray bottle with one hand, he shook it vigorously, then pressed the nozzle with his thumb.

A hissing sound filled the air as a white mist sprayed out, enveloping the charging centipede horde.

Though mutated, they were no match for the insecticide, falling one by one with sizzling sounds until all lay dead about a meter away.

Chen Fan stepped back a few times, covering his mouth and nose. When the mist cleared, he smiled.

The ground was piled high with centipede corpses, forming a mound three to four meters tall.

He approached the mound, pressed his back against the wall, stood on tiptoes, and carefully moved forward.

A sizzling sound arose again. Two yellow-headed centipedes had not yet died, raising their upper bodies and hissing at him.

Chen Fan raised an eyebrow and, refusing to indulge them, sprayed insecticide once more.

The liquid bubbled as it coated their grotesque bodies, some even entering their mouths through their mandibles.

With a final hiss, they collapsed, utterly defeated by this mysterious substance far more lethal than torches they had once feared.

Passing the centipede corpse mound, Chen Fan moved toward the bone hill.

He held his breath, observing carefully before pressing against the stone wall and inching forward.

He crossed the bone mound and approached the karst cave.

A rustling sound arose as countless skeletons stirred, resembling a turbulent sea of red and white.

A minute later, thirty human skeletons stood upright and then, astonishingly, began to dance in formation toward Chen Fan.

His hair bristled and teeth chattered as he stumbled back several steps—this scene was utterly bizarre.

“What kind of evil is this?” Chen Fan’s tension peaked.

Before the skeletons could attack, he quickly scanned the cave, seeking the cause of their dancing.

Suddenly, a chill gripped his heart as the skeletons ceased dancing and, contorted grotesquely, charged at him at terrifying speed.

Closer inspection revealed their bones were a pale green—clearly tainted with poison.

Chen Fan glanced at his long knife and pistol and sighed.

Had he not been injured, he might have fought them off, but now even walking cautiously risked his body collapsing.

He couldn’t outrun them, nor outfight them—what choice did he have?

Resorting to an old trick, he retrieved a massive safe from his system backpack and entered it.

The safe, from the bird’s nest building, weighed three to four hundred pounds and was forged from special metal, incredibly tough.

The skeletons couldn’t move or break it, so Chen Fan felt somewhat secure inside.

Thuds sounded as the skeletons surrounded the safe, pressing their poison-tainted finger bones against its smooth surface, trying to open it.

But their bones slipped repeatedly; they couldn’t gain leverage.

Inside the safe, Chen Fan leaned against the wall, finally relaxing a bit. He vowed to scavenge more human structures to acquire a hundred more safes, so his system backpack could be packed to the brim!