A Moment of Peril

An hour later, Bai Chuan finally set off back, his belly full, clutching a large chunk of fresh meat.

He'd been gone for an hour already. Little Mouse must be starving by now.

Thinking of the tiny creature, so full of spirit yet so timid, made Bai Chuan smile.

Ever since he'd taken Little Mouse underwater a few days ago, it had clutched its little paws and trembled, terrified that he meant to harm it.

Gradually, after spending more time with him, it had realized he had no such intention and slowly relaxed.

Even so, whenever his emotions flared, especially when they turned negative, the little creature would startle and curl up in a panic.

It seemed able to sense whether his intense emotions were good or bad, and how strong they were. It was rather remarkable.

At first, he hadn't noticed. Then, one time, the little creature accidentally dribbled a few drops of urine onto his scales, putting him in such a foul mood that he nearly tossed it away.

Thankfully, he stopped to think. He still needed the creature to scan the Ice Silkworm, so he held back.

To his surprise, it seemed to have sensed his irritation. After that, it never did anything like that again.

Whenever it needed to relieve itself, it waited until he went hunting or started eating, then went ashore and took care of it on its own.

At first, he'd been puzzled, wondering if the mouse had gone mad and was about to make a run for it with the little wooden box. He'd nearly pounced on it.

But after watching closely, he realized it had been sneaking off to relieve itself!

He had to admit, perhaps from spending so much time around humans or undergoing special training, the little creature really did know how to win people over.

Unfortunately, none of that seemed to count as an ability. Unlike his Current Detection, which was a special ability, it didn't appear on the Panel.

Thinking back on everything that had happened over the last few days, Bai Chuan smiled to himself and narrowed his sharp, slit-pupiled eyes. He glanced down at the hefty chunk of fresh meat clenched in his jaws. It ought to keep the little creature fed for several days.

Before long, Bai Chuan returned to the spot where he'd gone underwater. He lowered his head and passed the crocodile meat from his mouth into his claws.

The powerful muscles beneath him contracted, pushing his belly scales backward in a steady ripple. His long body glided smoothly toward the tree hollow.

Just as Bai Chuan was happily returning with a full load of food, he suddenly froze and stopped moving. Something seemed wrong.

His slender forked tongue flicked out, rapidly wavering up and down as it caught scent molecules in the air.

Yes, the scents around him seemed fainter. Little Mouse's scent had grown much weaker.

He suddenly realized what might have happened. His body burst forward, racing toward the tree hollow as his sharp eyes swept over the surroundings.

Before long, he abruptly halted his dash, then bent and veered sharply to the side.

Because he saw it!

A snake, acting like it had a death wish, was swallowing a mouse alive. Its jaws gaped at an impossible angle, wider than ninety degrees, as it slowly gulped down its prey.

Of course, none of that was the point!

The point was that the prey was a mouse! The familiar little mouse!

The tiny creature was in a wretched state, being swallowed inch by inch. Even as the snake gulped it down, with its hindquarters already disappearing into the snake's jaws, its little paws still clung tightly to the wooden box. Every so often, it let out a faint squeak, proof that it was still alive.

Thanks to the wooden box, the mouse hadn't been swallowed completely.

Even so, the box looked as if it could barely hold together. It seemed ready to burst open.

Once the box burst and the mouse died, a fierce wave of cold would sweep through this place.

There was no time to wonder why Little Mouse, despite surviving alone through the floods until winter's end—and thriving in the wild even when Zhang Daring came looking for it—had now been caught by a small snake.

Bai Chuan's slit pupils widened, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

How dare a mere little snake try to steal his food?

His body burst into motion at the fastest speed he'd ever reached. In a few short moments, he was at the little snake's side like a flying arrow.

Then he slowed, rapidly shedding speed!

By the time he reached the snake, the force from his explosive charge had completely dissipated.

Only the gale he'd brought with him remained, carrying the unavoidable stench of a snake that had just eaten. It was proof of how fast he'd been.

A shadow fell over it—a massive shadow, accompanied by a powerful gust of rank air, arriving in an instant.

The little snake, still swallowing its prey, jolted in fright. Its coiled body stiffened, then shifted, turning its head toward the source of the stench.

As it turned, its eyes fell on the direction the gust had come from.

The little snake froze. The owner of the shadow had barged, without a hint of reason, into its black-and-white world.

A long, sleek, broad neck, like a king's cloak. A pair of unnaturally prominent bulges atop its raised, fearsome jaws. And eyes that looked down from on high, sharp as those of its natural enemy. They were fixed on the little snake, brimming with murderous intent.

Though it couldn't pick up scents with its tongue while eating, its instinct as a snake still conveyed the message through the air.

This was the wrath of a king among snakes—the Ten-Thousand Snake, known as the bane of serpents and the King of Venomous Snakes!

In a daze, though it had little intelligence, the little snake's tiny brain understood what was happening. It had trespassed against its king, and was about to face a ruler's wrath.

Instinctively, it tried to regurgitate its prey on the spot.

But the way it wriggled and convulsed disgusted Bai Chuan. Its posture was simply too ugly.

He looked at the little mouse, which seemed to have noticed his arrival and let out a faint squeak, and sighed softly to himself.

He reached out a claw and lifted the little snake. Then, with great care, he raised a single claw—huge and sharp by comparison—and gently slipped it into the side of the snake's mouth.

With one light pull, the claw cut from head to tail like a razor-sharp blade slicing through a sheet of paper. He felt not the slightest resistance.

Only then did Bai Chuan gently cradle the little creature. Its fluffy fur was now soaked, and faint traces of blood seeped from its hindquarters. It looked utterly miserable.

Now that the weight pressing down on it was gone, the little mouse seemed to catch its breath a little.

It opened its glossy black eyes, dazed, and tremblingly lifted the little wooden box it had held tightly to its chest. With an almost ingratiating expression, it offered it to him.

This wasn't the first time it had done this.

In its simple little mind, it vaguely remembered that ever since they'd started fleeing, whenever they came ashore to eat, the big snake would leave the wooden box in its care.

After they finished eating in a hurry, the big snake always had it hand the box back, then took it underwater again to continue their flight.

There was no doubt this thing was incredibly important to the big snake. The mouse didn't understand why, but it knew this was the right thing to do.

Because, after that monk, this was the second being to treat it well.

This time would be no different.