Snow Kui frowned as the crimson serpent coiled its massive body.
That posture—
definitely not meant for a quick strike or retreat.
Not offense.
Not escape.
It was a defensive stance, built purely to absorb impact.
Snow Kui's eyelid twitched.
He suddenly understood.
He tried to accelerate, wings cutting the air—
but he had already reached the limit of his current speed.
The Ash Serpent opened its jaws.
But instead of spewing ash outward—
it exhaled onto itself.
Soot condensed, thickening into a solid, rock-like shell that sealed the serpent entirely beneath hardened ash.
Snow Kui's expression twisted.
Shameless.
A dignified god—resorting to full-body turtling defense… against a young yaksha?
He gripped his ice spear.
Elemental power compressed, bursting downward as he hammered the hardened layer.
Spear shattered.
Frost formed beneath the rubble—but the cracked ash-stone was already repairing itself.
Behind him, firelight crept closer—
narrowing the space where Stone and the hunters could survive.
Snow Kui clenched his teeth.
This thing isn't trying to run. Its target is Stone's party.
He dropped low, slamming his heels onto the ice he created, shards exploding beneath every movement.
He swung the spear like a war hammer—
strike, lift, strike again.
Ice and crushed stone mixed into a muddy paste, splattering upward with each blow.
He was forcing his body beyond technique—
fighting against time itself.
Faster. Faster!
The spear arcs blurred.
His mind blurred with them.
He stopped thinking about counters.
Stopped thinking about defense.
He was forcing the kill.
Below, the serpent bled from nose and mouth, enduring the shock waves.
It waited.
Patient.
The true predator.
Just a little longer. Let him lose himself.
Snow Kui finally spotted it—
a section of stone where the cracks stopped healing.
He dropped the spear back, lifting it overhead.
Ice power surged into the weapon, sharp enough to cut through—
The serpent's pupils constricted.
Now.
Snow Kui's eyes widened.
The ash and melting frost at his feet had already turned into mud—
soft, sticky.
His legs sank.
And in the moment he focused on channeling power, the mud hardened into rock.
A trap.
Rage twisted his expression.
Snow Kui rammed his spear down, wedging it into a crack, trying to anchor his upper body.
Above ground and under it—
two faces contorted.
Kill! (Hold on!)
A burst of white.
Frost exploded outward.
Stone's hunting party blinked, blinded by white.
A roar—full of pain and defiance—shook their eardrums.
As sight returned—
Their faces went pale.
Snow Kui's lower body was buried in ash and stone.
Steam hissed around him—he was using every ounce of ice power he had to resist the heat melting through.
Both hands free, he swung his spear in rapid bursts, knocking aside waves of ash that tried to smother him.
Across from him, half of the serpent's body was frozen solid.
Even so, the ice continued to melt.
A fire-born god had the advantage in a battle of attrition.
Victory was only one more step away.
And that victor—
was the Ash Serpent.
Meanwhile, behind the barrier—
Stone slung his crossbow from his back and stepped toward the boundary.
"Captain—what are you doing!?"
"If we don't help him, we're all dead."
His voice was steady.
"But outside—humans can't survive in that heat!"
The air outside the barrier warped, red with heat.
Ash swirled like smoke from a furnace.
Any human stepping into that environment would die—
minutes, maybe seconds.
Stone knew.
He also knew it didn't matter.
He checked the crossbow's mechanism.
Two steps. If I can take just two steps, I'll be in range.
The others stared in horror—
but also in awe.
This was not bravado.
This was resolve.
"Because my body is the strongest," Stone said calmly. "I go."
He squeezed the shoulder of the teammate blocking him.
He understood the concern.
No one wants to see a comrade die.
But—
If we do nothing, we all die.
He glanced at Snow Kui—
frozen from the waist down, endlessly striking.
Even a fool could see Snow Kui was losing.
"Don't worry," Stone forced a grin, "as long as I'm alive, Snow Kui will be fine."
He lied.
He knew—
today is the end of his life.
Perhaps fate had decided long ago.
He stepped out of the barrier.
Heat ripped into him instantly.
Steam rose from his skin—
the water inside his body literally evaporating.
His lungs scorched.
Breathe.
He forced air into burned lungs.
He couldn't run.
Every movement felt like his blood was boiling.
He walked.
Step by agonizing step.
White steam trailed from his skin,
every footprint leaving behind a scorch mark—
flecks of ember clinging to the prints.
Inside the barrier, the same teammate collapsed to his knees, sobbing.
But the man walking into hell never looked back.
Because—
gods did not witness this.
He did not ask gods to witness it.
Stone's resolve was his own.
He never begged Heaven to see him.
He would save his brother on his own feet.
Advance Chapters available on P@treon
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