Crimson Blood Python

Crimson Blood Python

Diya recognized this kind of fruit. It was sold in commoners' markets and was called Red Snake Fruit. Though only a few commoners sold it, the price was anything but ordinary. Ripe red fruits were juicy and quite sweet, with a faint tartness beneath the sweetness, while the flesh was delightfully chewy. Even nobles were fond of them.

Many years ago, when Diya had still been a child and Uncle Fu still had a few gold coins, Uncle Fu had bought some for him. Though the taste had faded from his memory over the years, seeing them again today made saliva well up uncontrollably in his mouth.

Red Snake Fruit could not be cultivated artificially, not only because it favored dark, damp environments, but also because wherever Red Snake Fruit grew, venomous snakes were sure to be present, as if the two existed together. Thus, the Red Snake Fruit sold in markets was picked by somewhat capable commoners in places like the Twilight Rainforest, which was the direct reason for its high price.

The fingers of Diya's right hand loosened around the small sword, then tightened again. He knew that a venomous snake had to be lurking among the Red Snake Fruit bushes over twenty meters away, perhaps waiting for him to approach on his own.

But hunger, appetite, and the saliva constantly filling his mouth and being swallowed drove Diya toward the Red Snake Fruit. Step by step, he moved with extreme care and slowness. That short distance of twenty-odd meters felt like more than two hundred.

When he was about nine meters from the Red Snake Fruit Grove, Diya stopped. Holding his breath, he bent down and picked up a stone about half the size of his fist. With some effort, he gripped it and hurled it hard toward the Red Snake Fruit Grove—

"Rustle."

The stone struck the leaves with a faint sound. Diya remained motionless, slightly bent over like a leopard poised to pounce. Yet his pale face showed that throwing the stone had consumed quite a bit of his strength.

"Rustle." "Rustle."

Perhaps realizing that Diya posed no threat and looked like nothing more than a tender slab of meat, a crimson snake as red as dripping blood, as thick as a calf, slithered out from the Red Snake Fruit Grove. Its triangular head was not large, set with two ruby-like eyes. Its long tongue flicked rapidly while its body lazily curled into an S-shape, its eyes fixed tightly on Diya.

A cold sweat broke out on Diya's forehead and quickly slid down past the corner of his eye, making his eye twitch slightly. Yet he did not dare blink, afraid that the snake would attack in that instant.

A Crimson Blood Python. Though it was not a magical beast, it stood at the top among fierce beasts. Its venom was extremely potent; once bitten, one would die from the poison within ten seconds.

That information flashed through Diya's mind, and regret rose in his heart. He had not expected to encounter something as terrifying as a Crimson Blood Python on the outskirts of the rainforest. His luck truly seemed terrible.

But this was no time for regret. Seeing the hint of mockery in the Crimson Blood Python's ruby-like eyes, Diya almost thought he was seeing things. Did this creature intend to toy with him before attacking? Then don't blame me if you die. With that thought, Diya cast every distracting thought from his mind.

As he focused, everything around him became incomparably clear. The Crimson Blood Python's movements appeared clearly before his eyes. Perhaps this was the benefit of being born with powerful spiritual force, or perhaps it was the result of a soul that did not belong to this world and could not blend into it, paired with a heart that had long gone numb. Fearless, with only the thought of killing the Crimson Blood Python in his heart, he forgot life and death, forgot fear. At that instant, Diya vanished. The fluctuations of his presence disappeared, and as he stood there, he seemed almost unreal.

Yet Diya himself was unaware of his current state. For him, there was only one chance. After the long journey and hunger, his weakened body had only enough strength left for a single strike.

Perhaps believing that Diya posed no threat, the Crimson Blood Python remained lazy and unhurried. It felt no danger from the small sword pinched between Diya's right thumb and forefinger. In truth, any living creature with even a little intelligence would be able to tell how fragile that little sword was. It barely even qualified as a weapon.

The instant Diya entered that strange state and the fluctuations of his presence vanished, the Crimson Blood Python abruptly stopped. It raised its head, hesitated briefly, then continued forward. A series of rustling sounds rang out as the distance shrank from nine meters to four, yet the Crimson Blood Python had still not fully emerged from the grove.

Though this world was a different-world continent, it shared many similarities with Earth. There was the climate, the four seasons, snakes, insects, fierce beasts, and even certain bits of common sense. Otherwise, Diya would truly have found it difficult to adapt.

There were many ways for skilled people to kill snakes, while some made use of a snake's weakness. As the saying went, strike a snake seven inches from its head. That spot was a snake's fatal weakness, and once attacked, it could easily lead to death.

The snakes of this world were no exception. Diya did not know whether magical beast snakes possessed the same weakness, but the fatal point of the venomous snake before him was clearly visible.

Cold sweat dripped down his face, passing the corners of his eyes, but it did not make Diya so much as twitch an eyelid. Like a statue, he maintained his slightly bent posture. His right thumb and forefinger pinched the end of the small sword, its tip pointing upward before his face, level with his right eye.

The Crimson Blood Python made no special effort to protect its fatal point. Still looking careless, it moved closer to Diya. The distance shrank from four meters to three. The Crimson Blood Python continued forward, its body twisting as its fatal point was exposed once more—

Now. Diya's gaze sharpened slightly, and his right hand suddenly snapped forward. Like a phantom, a flash of silvery white streaked through the air, accompanied by a faint whistle of wind.

"Pfft!" "Hiss!" "Clang!"

The three sounds rang out almost at once. The first was the small sword striking precisely and burying itself in the Crimson Blood Python's fatal point. No matter how formidable it was, once its fatal weakness had been struck, it could not avoid the result. The second was the Crimson Blood Python's own agonized hiss. The third was the sound of the small sword breaking.

Diya did not stop to inspect the result. After launching the small sword, he kicked fiercely backward and fell over a meter away, then struggled to retreat farther. His face was deathly pale, like that of someone who had lost too much blood. The hair on his forehead was soaked with sweat and plastered to his face.

The Crimson Blood Python writhed madly where it lay, sweeping trails across the surrounding ground and crushing dead branches and fallen leaves to pieces. The sight made Diya's heart pound.

That flying sword strike was the extra gain—and the only gain—from his ten years of training. Ten years of bitter practice had made him nearly infallible. If not for the limits of his body's strength, he would not have needed to use such a fragile little sword made of metal, nor would he have needed to wait until the Crimson Blood Python was within three meters before acting.

Fortunately, he had succeeded in the end. Diya had great confidence in his flying sword strike. His only concern had been whether the small sword could pierce the Crimson Blood Python's fatal point. Seeing its current state, he was relieved. Though the small sword had broken, at least a third of it had entered the fatal point.

The Crimson Blood Python's agonized thrashing knocked Red Snake Fruits to the ground one after another. Some were crushed beneath its body, and Diya's heart ached at the sight. Those were all money. Even if he did not sell them, they were still delicious. He vaguely remembered that when he was young, Uncle Fu had bought some Red Snake Fruits, yet had not eaten a single one himself, giving them all to Diya. No matter what, Diya should bring some back for Uncle Fu to taste.

About twenty minutes later, the Crimson Blood Python gave two faint twitches and then stopped moving. By then, Diya had recovered a little strength. He struggled to his feet, but did not immediately approach it. Instead, he picked up a small stone and accurately struck the Crimson Blood Python's body. It did not move at all, as though it were truly dead.

Yet Diya still endured his hunger and stood where he was for another ten minutes. Only after confirming that the Crimson Blood Python was completely dead did he walk over. Its fatal point was a bloody mess, and a pool of blood lay on the ground.

Though the Crimson Blood Python's venom was fierce, its flesh was a rare delicacy. Its skin was valuable as well, while its blood seemed capable of strengthening the body. Its gallbladder could clear the liver, brighten the eyes, and detoxify. It could be said that its entire body was treasure.

But Diya ignored the Crimson Blood Python and walked around it to the Red Snake Fruit Grove. He picked several Red Snake Fruits and stuffed them into his mouth, wolfing them down. Only after eating the tenth did he finally feel something in his stomach and the hunger began to fade. Then Diya picked an eleventh Red Snake Fruit, put it into his mouth, and carefully chewed it, savoring the taste that had once lingered so long in his memory.

Only after eating thirty Red Snake Fruits did Diya feel that his hunger had mostly vanished, while few fruits remained on the trees. He stopped eating. Having recovered a little strength, Diya walked to the Crimson Blood Python's corpse. The creature was not only as thick as a calf but also over three meters long, so it could not have been light. Diya wanted badly to drag it back to the city and sell it for a large sum, but with his current body, it would already be remarkable if he could drag it at all.

There was no helping it. He could only do his best. Diya squatted beside the Crimson Blood Python, looked at the mangled wound at its fatal point, and reached out with his right hand, pinching the broken small sword embedded within between his thumb and forefinger.