"I didn't see anything." Leo shook his head.
Truthfully, he was curious. He wanted to see what Lowell, Quincy, and especially the calculating Monty were capable of. But Monty's scheming nature was precisely the problem. One word from him, and Wood—a core disciple—stayed behind without question. That kind of control was sothing Lowell couldn't match. Leo didn't trust leaving only the Ice Profound Sect disciples outside. Vera was sharper than Lowell and the others, but she still didn't grasp how treacherous people could be. Leo didn't bother explaining.
Vera frowned, then rembered the rumor Solon had ntioned about Leo fighting Lowell. Judging by Lowell's reaction earlier, it was probably true. Maybe Leo was keeping his distance to avoid another clash with him. If not for the gossip—and seeing Lowell nearly draw his weapon—she would have dismissed Leo as just another ordinary disciple. Now, the rumors made him sothing of an enigma.
Two hours later, Monty, Lowell, and Quincy returned. The results were clear from their faces alone.
"You're all useless. A bunch of snakes, and you couldn't handle them. Why pull back? We should have taken down the net and killed them all." Quincy fud, unwilling to let it go.
Monty's face was dark. He wasn't used to being spoken to like that. Lowell looked equally sour, red-faced, and made no move to contradict her.
"Senior Sister Quincy, there are too many snakes in the cold pond. They can't all be killed at once. You and the others rest here. We'll take the next shift. We'll wear them down, rotate through, and eventually they'll run out. Then we can gather the Purple Ginseng." Vera rose to her feet and spoke.
With Quincy's group watching their backs, they could fight without fear of being trapped again.
Lowell avoided Vera's eyes. He had promised to retrieve her spirit net, but the snakes had been relentless. Kill one, and two more took its place. If not for that net, their retreat would have been even worse.
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Leo had hoped to sit this one out, but when Wood stood and headed toward the cave, he knew his ti was up.
Inside the cave, the darkness had been replaced by luminous pearls placed at intervals—Quincy's doing. The walls were scarred from battle. A few small snakes had slipped through the net and lingered.
Gale and Solon rushed forward, cutting them down and collecting the skins and demon cores. Snake skin made tough armor. The cores were valuable.
"So easily impressed. How pathetic." At the back of the cave, piles of snake corpses lay scattered—the remnants of Lowell and Monty's earlier assault. So of the black snakes had been ground to pulp. The floor was stained with blood, the stench thick and sickening. The sheer volu of untouched carcasses made the Ice Profound Sect disciples sneer at Gale, Solon, and the others for making such a show of collecting scraps.
Gale and the others flushed. They shouldn't have been so eager. It did look ridiculous, with all these corpses lying around.
"We're not as wealthy as you. If you're so high and mighty, you can leave these corpses to us poor cultivators." Angus shot back without missing a beat, continuing to harvest the useful parts.
"Enough." Vera cut off the argunt. "I'm removing the net. Three to a team, rotating. Any objections?" She looked at Wood, then at Leo.
"No objections. A reasonable arrangent, Junior Sister Vera." Wood smiled.
Leo stepped forward without a word. Lowell and his group had already thinned the swarm. The snakes that returned would be fewer at first. The first shift had it easiest. The longer it went, the more snakes would gather, and the harder it would get.
Solon and Angus abandoned their harvest and moved to flank Leo. "Wouldn't miss a chance to fight beside Senior Brother Leo."
"Don't get your hopes up." Leo's voice was flat. He pulled out his golden sword—a top-grade spirit artifact.
When Leo drew his golden sword—a top-grade spirit artifact, nothing more—Solon and Angus couldn't quite hide their disappointnt. They had expected him to live up to the rumors and make this easier. But a spirit artifact, even a top-grade one, was no match for a magic artifact. Then they rembered: the fight with Lowell happened inside the Palace. Neither would have used magic artifacts there. The realization dawned on them.
Vera's expression flickered. She didn't give anyone ti to second-guess. She pulled down the net blocking the passage. The net, tough as a magic artifact, had taken a beating—cut by wind blades, eaten away by venom in several places. Vera's heart ached at the sight. By the ti the snakes were dealt with, her net would likely be destroyed.
"Senior Brother Leo, you haven't seen the swarm yet. When I draw them out, try not to be too surprised." At the cave's end, Solon grinned, threw a few fireballs into the mist over the cold pond, and ran back.
Leo watched the thick fog. The fireballs exploded. Angry screeches. Dozens of black snakes burst from the mist. They had been attacked too many tis over the past two days. Their kind had been slaughtered. Every ti, the intruders fought a bit, then ran. This ti, they would make them pay.
The snakes charged.
Leo gestured. The golden sword flashed, cutting a weaker one in two. He followed with wind blades.
"Senior Brother Leo, fall back! They're about to swarm!" Angus cut down one snake and bolted for the cave. Fighting them out in the open, without the tunnel to thin their numbers, was suicide.
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