“Let’s go get the others; it’s getting late. We need to make it back here before nightfall,” Yu Long called over his shoulder.

An Xian nodded, turning to follow. But then, something flickered in the corner of his eye. Without a second thought, his instincts kicked in—years of survival guiding his movements. He lunged, weapon poised to strike. But as he reached the spot, he found… nothing. The desert lay silent, stretching endlessly beneath the fading sun, and his quarry had vanished.

I was sure I saw something here. Where did it go?

He glanced around, scanning the sand for any trace of movement. But the ground held no signs, no shadows, nothing but endless dunes. Just as he was about to turn back, something unusual caught his eye—a faint glint half-buried in the sand. An oversized wristlet.

Curious, he knelt and picked it up, brushing away grains of sand. The wristlet was simple yet strange, with dark wooden beads that felt warm against his fingers, save for one small blue stone embedded in the center. The stone was icy cold, sending a chill through his hand even in the desert heat. Intricate symbols were carved into the wood, unfamiliar yet mesmerizing.

It seemed ordinary enough, yet something about it felt… wrong

“Come on, let’s go!” Yu Long called again. An Xian took one last look around but saw nothing unusual, so he hurried to catch up with the others.

As they made their way back through the scorching desert, An Xian couldn’t take his eyes off the strange wristlet he’d found. The craftsmanship was superb; though it was simply carved from wood, each bead had a meticulous polish that made it gleam even in the dimming light. But what truly caught his attention was that the beads had no holes—no thread or binding to hold them together. He turned the wristlet over and over, puzzled, examining it from every angle.

It was about twice the size of his small, malnourished wrist. Curiosity got the better of him, and he slipped it on. To his amazement, the wooden beads began to shrink, adjusting themselves to fit perfectly around his wrist. Stunned, An Xian looked up to see if anyone else had noticed the wristlet’s strange magic, but Yu Long and the others were too focused on reaching their destination, lost in quiet conversations as they trudged through the sand.

Excited, An Xian picked up his pace, eager to show them his discovery. Just as he was about to call out, Xin Tian Shi, who was leading the group, screamed. She turned and bolted toward them, her face pale with terror.

“Run, run!” she shouted, panic clear in her voice. Without hesitation, Yu Long and Xin Yao spun around and dashed back, not even waiting to see what had frightened her.

An Xian didn’t move immediately. Instead, he scanned the dunes, trying to locate the threat. When he saw it, his heart seized with terror. A swarm of desert mambas—fifty at least—slithered swiftly across the sands, their dark, glistening bodies moving like waves. Each snake was nearly two to three meters long. He’d seen what their venom could do to a person, and he knew that one bite could mean certain death.

But instead of running, An Xian gripped the wooden spear strapped to his back, and, with steely resolve, he charged straight toward the deadly swarm.

“What are you doing?!” Xin Tian Shi cried, horrified as he raced past her toward the advancing snakes.

“Go!” he shouted over his shoulder, his voice unwavering. Reaching the front of the snake swarm, An Xian swung his spear with all his strength, sweeping five of the venomous creatures aside.

The mambas, known for their vengeance, turned their attention on him, and a fierce battle began—a single teenage boy against a writhing mass of deadly snakes.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

An Xian moved backward, trying to fight while keeping his distance. He leaped to the right, swinging his spear down with a sharp crack, pinning two of the snakes to the ground. But the rest were relentless. As he struck again and again, the snakes began to burrow into the sand, moving closer, their heads re-emerging unpredictably around him. His fighting style quickly became useless as they closed in. He tried stabbing at them with the spear, but it barely slowed their advance.

Realizing he was outnumbered, he prepared to flee. But just as he was about to turn, a dozen of the snakes sprang up from the sand all at once. He flung his spear at them, managing to strike a few, but more were already at his feet. He kicked them away, but a sharp, searing pain shot through his left leg. He looked down, horror sinking in as he saw a mamba clamped onto his calf.

Desperately, he shook it off, but dread washed over him. He’d seen many fall to these bites; now, it was his turn. Ignoring the growing numbness in his leg, he stumbled forward, stepping on and over the snakes in a frantic attempt to escape. But within seconds, his left leg went numb, and he lost his balance, collapsing onto the sand.

So this is how I die.

The swarm closed in on him, the mambas’ dark eyes gleaming in the fading light. An Xian tried to push himself up, but the venom was spreading, sapping his strength. Just as he resigned himself to his fate, another spear, longer and sturdier than his own, landed with a thud in front of him, scattering the nearest snakes.

Yu Long had run a good distance before glancing back to see what was chasing them. He saw Xin Yao and Xin Tian Shi close behind, but An Xian was missing. Panic shot through him, and he stopped in his tracks. Scanning the dunes, he spotted a small figure darting left and right, wielding a spear in every direction.

“What is he doing?” Yu Long muttered in confusion as he stopped to catch his breath.

“He’s… fighting those snakes,” Xin Tian Shi gasped, her voice shaky. She bent forward, hands on her knees, and pointed toward An Xian with wide, frightened eyes.

“What? Snakes?” Yu Long’s face turned pale. In the wasteland, snakes were among the most dangerous creatures, and the children had been strictly warned to flee at the first sight of one.

“This boy is truly mad,” he muttered, exasperated. “Stay here. Don’t come any closer,” he warned the girls before pulling his wooden spear from his back and racing toward An Xian.

Just as Yu Long drew close, he saw An Xian stumble forward, right into the swarm of mambas. His heart pounded as he stopped for a split second, watching in horror. But when he saw An Xian collapse onto the sand, he sprinted even faster, reaching him just as the first wave of desert mambas rushed in.

Without hesitation, Yu Long swung his spear, knocking the nearest snakes aside with desperate strength. He bent down to lift An Xian, but his movements felt sluggish as another wave of mambas slithered toward them, their dark, glittering bodies like a storm closing in. Yu Long’s mind went blank, panic pressing down on him like a weight.

What do I do? I’ve always said this boy’s recklessness would get us killed…

But just as Yu Long began to lose hope, something impossible happened. On An Xian’s left wrist, a tiny head emerged from nowhere—something that looked like… a kitten. Yu Long stared, dumbfounded. The little creature seemed irritated, as if the snakes had disturbed its rest. It opened its tiny mouth, and, with a roar far louder than its size could possibly allow, released a massive gust of air that barreled toward the swarm.

The powerful blast hit the snakes with devastating force. Heads snapped back, bodies were flung, and some snakes were even sliced apart by the impact. The survivors scattered, slithering away in fear, desperate to escape the mysterious creature’s wrath.

Yu Long stood frozen, mouth agape, his mind reeling. The tiny creature turned its gaze toward him, almost as if it sensed his astonishment. Then, in an instant, it vanished, leaving no trace.

Where did it go? I know I saw it… unless this is some kind of dream. But then, what about the dead snakes?

Shaking off his disbelief, Yu Long refocused on An Xian. There was no time to wonder; his friend’s life was at stake. He hoisted An Xian onto his back, trying to ignore the boy’s shallow breathing and the clammy feel of his skin.

When he returned to Xin Yao and Xin Tian Shi, both girls were crying softly. They knew what a snakebite meant out here. Without an antidote, it was as good as a death sentence.

“It’s almost dark,” Yu Long said, his voice tight with worry. “We’ll head back to the bird and wait for the others.”

The small group made their way back to the Death Crane. It was a creature of immense size, its body casting a massive shadow against the evening sky. Moments later, the rest of the group arrived, their expressions heavy and somber.

Yu Long had hoped they’d be elated at the sight of such a large bird—it would provide enough meat to feed them for weeks, maybe longer. But instead of the joy he expected, the group looked as grim as Xin Yao and Xin Tian Shi.

Confused, Yu Long glanced around. The others didn’t yet know about An Xian’s situation. So why were they all so gloomy?