I took another two steps before a tree-thick vine attacked me. It whipped and hissed and tried to trap me with its body that could bend as lithely as the pouncing panther. I dodged the body and came face to face with a serpent. Its wide-opened mouth swallowed my head.

The body of the vine I so expertly dodged before took advantage of my disadvantaged state and coiled around me.

Pressure from the closing mouth threatened to crush my head as fangs scraped the side. I was trapped like a sucker. The serpent's muscles constricted, vices around me tightened, and my mana sapped away at an alarming rate. I couldn't breathe. Nor could I move.

I hated snakes. They were gross, too. The serpent spawn of Ao's foulest pits' only purpose was to sow discomfort, and they were master sowers. All of Helm could turn to ash, and the Soggy sticks would still slither with a steaming bitter odor while hissing their insidious praises—tongues lapping the air like they were buddies. No one was buddies with serpents. Some may be fooled by their unholy aura, mistaking it for power; they were fools and deserved to be devoured.

I didn't trust the devils and still ended up exactly where they wanted me.

Ao be damned, and his pit shredded refuse.

I gambled the remaining mana I had left and forced spikes all around my body. Necessity and stubbornness to not die led to the improvised attack. I'd be no easy meal for the serpent munching on my head. I was a puffer fish, no, I was a frozen cactus, a porcupine of pain, and I refused to die inside one of Ao's contorted tongues. Not now. Now ever.

I enforced my budding spikes with more mana and commanded them to grow. The muscles around my body relaxed. My moment of victory crashed down as the serpent, and I fell from the top of the tree. I had no idea the snake climbed so high. In fact, I didn't know how high it climbed. I just knew the distance I dropped, and the speed at which I fell did not add up to the five or ten feet off the ground I initially guessed when I was being consumed.

I prepared for a hard impact. My flat back slapped into the viscous fluid below, shattering the remains of my mana and my armor. The entire body of the snake landed right on top of me, its weight pushing me below the waters.

Not like this.

I reached for my mana within. I could freeze the swamp and stop my descent. There was no mana left. That couldn't be right. I rarely ran out of mana. In fact cultivators could cast all kinds of spells and tire of throwing spells long before they bottomed out. I should still have some.

My face was an inch from being submerged. I reached again. My mana was gone. I tried to move out from under the demon. Its body proved to be too massive and heavy. I was stuck in the mud, and the dead snake refused to move. I kept fighting despite my body's inability to move. I kept my neck stiff, refusing to let my head fall underneath the water. I gained no ground, but I wasn't losing any either.

In my perilous state, I scrambled for a solution. My only option was to fight with all my neck muscles and cultivate the lingering water mana. I didn't need much. A small amount would do.

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Survival became a race of gathering power and my waning endurance. My neck burned with the pain of being overworked. Veins enlarged and threatened to pop. I was pretty sure the ones on my face gave me a sliver of wiggle room, but that could be thoughts of the desperate.

Water mana trickled into my soul at the speed of a crawling caterpillar. As I harvested power, each drip brought me closer to salvation and death. It was slow and painful. All I needed was a little bit more. My teeth clenched so tight I didn't know if I'd be able to open my mouth again or if I'd have leftover teeth. The mud pulled me in deeper; the shift in my body position added extra strain on my neck and head. Whatever leverage I had, I lost. Still, I kept my head above the mud. Well… most of my head. The puddles of muck lapped at my lips. Luckily, it couldn't get through, not with all the pressure I endured. Unfortunately, despite my headstrong efforts, my body slowly sank.

Come on. I mentally prodded the mana along. A few more drops were all I needed before I could pull the mana into my channels.

My lips were halfway underwater. I need a couple drops more.

I got a gross whiff of the swamp before it tickled my nose. The warning did nothing to soften the blow. A terrible itching sensation festered. I forced heavy air through my nose, attempting to scratch the itch. Ripples of water rolled away, colliding into a section of the snake, and rebounded. A new wave of a swamp washed over my nose. I breathed in at the wrong moment, and all hell broke loose. My eyes watered, my nose burned, and I was on the edge of sneezing. The act would surely break me.

I let the burn fester as I pulled in enough mana. The process of cycling water required a constant pull of the energy inside my core. I pulled and pulled. With each pull, the mana inched to the edge of my core. At the wall of the core, I picked up the intensity of my pulling and urged the mana into my channels.

Energy rushed into my body like it had burst through a dam. I no longer needed to prod the mana; now that it flowed, I only needed to guide. Power accumulated at my fingertip, which was already underwater. With only a thought, I connected the mud puddle to my mana. Through connection, I slowed the energy down. At the last second, two sneezes broke free. I lost my focus as the pond froze. My body stopped sinking. The snake tree-sized body sandwiched my nose to the ice. The crater of ice created a pocket, allowing me to breathe. I no longer fell, and my head felt a new layer of support.

Overall, I'd call it a surmounting victory.

Now that death wasn't a breath away, I could focus on escape. I had no clue how to get out of this mess. Part of me was convinced I couldn't. More power was the only solution. For several hours, I cultivated mana in the worst cultivation position I'd experienced. I refroze my body when I had enough energy to add some reprieve to my neck. Mana continued to trickle into my core as I chewed through ideas.

The solution I ended with was similar to my last life when I was drowning in bones. This time, however, it required much more mana to create a solid base, which meant more cultivation and endurance. I stayed faithful to the task and inched my way out of the swamp one layer at a time.

I rolled my body out from under the severed snake in a tired and enthusiastic motion. Once free, I rested on my back for a while. The freaking jungle was out to kill me, and I wasn't on my best ranger game. I wasn't even on my best guide game... and that bar was levels below my ranger game. I needed to do better if I wanted to get anything meaningful from this dive. Damn it. I needed to be better.

Progression, sometimes, felt like a real bastard.

I recovered by the snake for another hour, regaining composure and accumulating mana. I managed to cultivate enough mana to fill my first and second layers. That would have to be enough for now. The jungle was growing tired of waiting.