Chapter Fifteen: Mass Production of the Decadence-Class

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In the darkness, the ghastly green glow of monstrous eyes flared like ghostly flames, sweeping toward the four in the waterway with the force of a wildfire.

“Fall back! Fall back! Fall back!” Liphus shouted urgently.

“There are too many of them—use the channel to limit their attack range!” The narrow space in the waterway was the most effective defense Liphus could think of in the desperate moment, to prevent being surrounded.

“Rear team to front! Niu Shan on defense, Ma Mingming attack, Ma Qiqi in the center as backup. Remember—even if a weasel-wolf comes right up and offers its neck for you to cut, you two in the front must kill those monsters trying to get past you first, understand? The weasel-wolves coming from the pit are mine. You just keep circling back in the waterway and stretch the battle line!”

With prior experience from those half-real, half-training fights, the three young half-demons quickly turned and did not lose their composure despite the horde of monsters surging from the rear. As they moved, they kept formation as Liphus demanded, all trace of their reckless behavior in the back alleys of the bar street days ago vanished.

Naturally, tension was inevitable. Niu Shan’s face was slick with sweat, Ma Qiqi looked flustered, and only Ma Mingming at the front wore an expression of rage and ferocity, eager to grow the fangs of a weasel-wolf and bite back.

As soon as they retreated into the waterway, Liphus’ sight was filled with weasel-wolves: each one was a wet, black-furred beast with heads shaped like rats, their fangs jutting out like crooked nails.

These were all juvenile weasel-wolves, little different from carnivorous wild beasts save for their speed and sharp teeth. There were so many that, as they surged forward, they crowded together and stuffed the mouth of the channel, creating a momentary pause in their momentum. Liphus seized that instant, unleashing a breath of innate power.

“Extreme Cold: Tide!”

If “Extreme Cold: Surge” was a crashing wave, then “Extreme Cold: Tide” was a silent autumn wind, unseen but deadly, sweeping through the weasel-wolf horde. Where it passed, every weasel-wolf was frozen into an ice statue, only to be crushed and shredded by their unaffected kin, leaving the ground littered with shattered, icy corpses.

Liphus alone could never slay all these weasel-wolves, so conserving demon power and escaping with minimal cost and casualties was paramount.

This maneuver bought the group precious time, allowing them to slip from the weasel-wolves’ sight and into another channel.

At each junction, some weasel-wolves, losing their target, would chase blindly and split off into wrong passages, thus thinning their numbers. All the four had to do was eliminate the last pursuing pack in the labyrinthine underground drainage system and they would be safe.

After explaining the plan to the others, Liphus watched their spirits rise, but his own expression grew darker.

He had not told them that, as the weasel-wolves tore apart their frozen kin, he glimpsed, through the gaps not yet filled by beasts, the pit’s edge. There, countless green phosphorescent lights flowed like fire, spreading into every direction of the waterway network. The other weasel-wolves were already moving to intercept the group from alternate routes.

The plan would not go as smoothly as hoped.

If Liphus were alone, the brief pause after freezing the channel would be enough to escape, but with three others in tow, he would never abandon them.

Sure enough, at the next branching point where three channels crossed, black tides of weasel-wolves surged from the other two.

Ma Mingming, always on edge, was caught off guard by the flanking attack. Liphus shouted, “Turn right!” as he dashed along the channel walls, leaping over the others’ heads, slicing with his Tang blade Autumn Water to block the monsters coming from the left.

With that time bought, Ma Mingming snapped back to action, gritting his teeth, blocking and parrying with his military dagger, and seizing the moment—its tip blooming like blood among the monsters, carving a breach in the horde.

Niu Shan, inspired by Ma Mingming’s boldness, let out a roar and charged from behind just as Ma Mingming faltered to catch his breath.

This wild cub, accustomed to avoiding danger, had grown a body like a small mountain but acted with a simple-minded naivety, lacking any real composure in the face of monsters. Now, driven by adrenaline, he used his body as a shield, swinging his hatchet wildly, and somehow managed to plunge deep into the right channel.

The Ma siblings were astonished at his transformation—so meek before, now so fierce.

Liphus, pressured by the monsters behind and to the left, wanted to retreat but was blocked by the siblings. Glancing back at their distant silhouettes and Niu Shan’s fading figure, he snapped, “What are you staring at? Waiting to die? Don’t let him charge off alone, hurry up and catch up!”

They rushed forward, replacing Niu Shan just in time. The four maintained this rhythm, fighting through the waterway, leaving no time for Ma Qiqi to search for the poisonous weasel-wolf, so their quest to hunt the king was put aside.

The numbers of pursuing weasel-wolves varied at each junction, suggesting most had lost track of the group. Liphus shouted, “It’s about time. Find a place to finish off the stragglers.”

The three responded, quickly finding a wide reservoir perfect for dispersing and fighting, then turned with Liphus to clear out the remaining beasts.

Liphus’ guess was right—not only were the trailing monsters few, but no more appeared from other entrances. A group of juvenile weasel-wolves could be swiftly dispatched even by the three young people, let alone with the help of the second-ranked “Passerby C” on the merit board.

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Moments later, nearly fifty weasel-wolves rushed into the reservoir. Liphus, not wanting a prolonged fight that might attract more, unleashed a breath of cold, freezing more than half on the spot; the rest were slain by the other three within a minute.

During this time, Niu Shan had always been at the front, relying entirely on his demon-blood-hardened skin to withstand bites. Now he was covered in blood, some wounds already crusted over, but others repeatedly torn by new attacks, blood from one wound flowing over another, leaving him a gruesome sight of flesh and gore.

Whether from pain or fear, Niu Shan stood trembling in the center, his eyes wild, mouth open, unable to speak.

Ma Qiqi, having just caught her breath, noticed his strange condition and hurried over to check. “Are you alright? Did you get hurt badly?”

Niu Shan’s lips quivered as he croaked, “I… I felt so hot just now, like the blood inside me was… boiling, and now, now it’s starting to itch…”

Ma Qiqi exclaimed, “Oh no, could you have been poisoned by the toxic weasel-wolf?”

Liphus suddenly appeared behind Ma Qiqi, grabbing her collar and dragging her away from Niu Shan. “He’s experiencing demon blood boiling—he’s about to awaken an innate ability. Don’t go near him at this stage!”

Ma Qiqi was both delighted and puzzled. “But… when I awakened my sense ability, I only had a nosebleed…”

Liphus raised his Tang blade Autumn Water, its point subtly aimed at Niu Shan. “Everyone’s awakening is different and has nothing to do with the power of the ability. Plenty have nearly died only to awaken something useless.”

Ma Qiqi noticed his gesture, but Liphus explained before she could ask, “More people don’t survive demon blood boiling. The best outcome is a tragic death; the worst is a collapse of the transformation—becoming a mutant creature driven only by instinct and desire!”

Ma Qiqi turned to call, “Brother, come see Niu Shan awaken his power!”

She glanced toward Ma Mingming.

“Brother?”

Ma Mingming sat slumped against a stone pillar in the reservoir, staring at his arms and legs with rare panic, his voice trembling. “I think… I’m about to awaken my ability too.”

His limbs were swelling and lengthening like four pieces of dough, bursting out of sleeves and pant legs, grotesquely bulging and contracting, wriggling, no longer resembling human hands or feet.

In her anxiety, Ma Qiqi forgot what Liphus had just said, rushing to check on her brother, but Liphus again grabbed her collar and pulled her farther away.

“You can’t help them—if you interfere, you’ll put them in danger.”

Liphus sighed inwardly. Their sudden awakening was clearly triggered by the stress of fighting weasel-wolves, a phenomenon known as “hazard-induced awakening.”

But such awakenings were not only dangerous, they offered no benefit to the abilities gained. Normally, a half-demon would notice signs, choose a quiet, hidden place for the process, and—if from a noble house—have experts guarding them, both to protect from outside influences and to deal with any mutant transformation.

Now, both were awakening at once, and in this world of mysterious half-demons, that coincidence might spark unknown changes. All Liphus could do was wait.

Just then, the light from Liphus and Ma Qiqi’s flashlights vanished, plunging the reservoir into a misty, dead silence.

Ma Qiqi cried out, sensing something unusual—the two flashlights extinguished together—and Liphus’ nearby figure faded into darkness. Before she could ask, a rush of wind swept past, and Liphus’ voice echoed from afar: “Enemy attack! Defend your position!”

Liphus had to rescue the two in awakening first; if they died, it was one thing, but if enemy attack triggered a mutant collapse, that would be disastrous.

He rushed first to Ma Mingming, whose physical changes made him more dangerous.

“Rrra!” A short, deep roar sounded in the dark—not merely a cry, but a monster’s innate ability. Liphus’ body suddenly grew heavy—though not overwhelmingly so, it was enough to make him falter, as if a tiger leapt before him, its aura fierce as wind.

At that moment, a shadowy form with only a faint outline hurtled toward Liphus, its speed matching the evil serpent Xiaoxie. As it drew near, it unfurled wings, shimmering with feather-like lustre, clearly aiming to slice off Liphus’ head.

But “tiger’s might” was not enough to fully restrain him—more like bearing an extra thirty or forty kilos.

Autumn Water stood upright as a shield; as the shadow passed, its iron feathers sparked gold and white against the blade, as hard as the blade itself.

Blindness favored the monsters, so time was of the essence. If they stopped targeting Liphus, the other three would be in mortal peril.

This darkness was no ordinary night—even without flashlights, half-demons like Liphus could see, but now it was as if a black cloth covered their faces, a strange discomfort.

Suddenly, Liphus’ vision cleared; though still in darkness, he could now discern the others’ positions, and the flashlights flickered back to life. The reservoir returned to normal after a brief, ominous blackout.

“Screeeech…”

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A sharp, desperate cry came from a corner of the reservoir. Liphus understood instantly.

There, the evil serpent Xiaoxie was shaking a weasel-wolf the size of a man’s shoe in its jaws. If Liphus was correct, the “blinding darkness” ability just experienced belonged to this rat-like beast.

Xiaoxie’s fangs pierced its neck and belly—death was certain, and the darkness effect faded.

Xiaoxie’s origins were mysterious. Only its true master, the rooster Shixie, knew its nature; Liphus himself was uncertain. As for why Xiaoxie was immune to “blinding darkness,” perhaps, if Shixie were here, he could explain. Liphus guessed it was due to serpents tracking prey by body heat.

Xiaoxie had earned merit today; rewards could wait. Liphus hurried to locate the others.

First he saw Niu Shan with Ma Qiqi. Niu Shan had finished awakening, still bloodied but with all wounds scabbed over, looking vigorous—though his expression was terrified, not of the monsters.

Liphus thought, “This tiger-backed kid—could he be afraid of the dark?”

With relief, he also spotted two ten-dead-level weasel-wolves nearby.

One, standing between two pillars, was goat-sized with grayish wings and an ugly, proud rat face.

The other, of rare coloration, had black-and-gray fur and was the size of a northeastern tiger, pacing regally on the other side of the iron-winged beast.

These ten-dead-level weasel-wolves had abilities and intelligence far beyond the previous ones, not something the young trio could handle.

But as long as they were within his protection, Liphus could deal with them one by one, even if it took extra effort.

Turning, he found Ma Mingming, whose awakening had not finished, though his limbs were now normal—albeit longer and stronger.

The effect of “blinding darkness” had just faded for Ma Mingming, when suddenly a three-clawed paw burst from beneath his shoulder, staining his shirt red. He stared blankly at the paw—he was leaning against a pillar, so where had the monster’s claw come from?

The answer lay behind him; he was hoisted into the air and moved forward a few steps.

A weasel-wolf covered in silver-gray scales stood upright like a person, emerging from the pillar.

Liphus was shocked and furious. “Elemental affinity, earth-based derivative ability… similar to the famous earth technique—‘Burrow’!”

The new scale-armored weasel-wolf eyed him with cruelty, as if avenging its kin killed by Xiaoxie, and swung Ma Mingming violently in the air.

After their failed ambush, these ten-dead-level beasts revealed their full strength. From the darkness behind the iron-winged and tiger-weasel-wolves, nine more ten-dead-level monsters emerged.

Such a force could annihilate a thousand-man unit; they had grounds for their contempt.

The nine varied in shape—the smallest was palm-sized, the largest over three meters—but all shared a deformity or features from other animals: one with two budding horns and a cow’s tail, others with a mix of weasel, mouse, and wolf traits, as if cobbled together from various beasts.

Liphus cursed silently, “A pack of mongrels!”

His mind raced, seeking a way to save Ma Mingming and get the three youngsters out alive.

To hunt the weasel-wolves with these inexperienced youths was now impossible. Without reinforcements, searching for the king was folly; the situation in this nest was far worse than Liphus had anticipated.

Unexpectedly, it was their own side that broke the stand-off.

Ma Qiqi, seeing her brother hoisted by a monster, lost her composure entirely. After a brief daze, she charged toward Ma Mingming in a frenzy, ignoring the threatening monsters nearby.

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