Chapter Thirteen: Mount Zhaoyao, Part Two

“Hurry up, we’d better get there and back before nightfall. I don’t want to spend the night in the woods!” Pete’s Chinese was awkward and clumsy, and his impatience was plain to see.

The group made their way through the mining area, heading steadily toward the core. Along the way, not a single bird or beast could be heard. The silence was so profound it became unnerving, and everyone’s nerves stretched taut, ready for some unknown monster to burst forth at any moment. The Enchantress took the left, the Music Maiden the right. At the front strode the monk, trailed by Xiaomei, with Director Rex and the foreigner Pete bringing up the rear. Unspoken understanding had them surround Wu Ming at the center, as if he were the frailest among them, in need of special protection. Wu Ming found this quite irksome.

“No need to mind, Senior Brother,” the Music Maiden said, noticing his displeasure. “You only joined a few days ago, and you’re the head of our sect—you’re the most important of us all!” She blinked her large, sparkling eyes.

“Ahem, never mind, let’s just be careful and keep moving,” Wu Ming replied, speechless. Was that meant to comfort him or rub salt in his wounds? Still, this little girl’s concern was genuine—there was no point arguing.

“Hey, this is a Maze Tree! Legend says that wearing its branch keeps you from getting lost, and it can break through a thousand illusions!”

Wu Ming, intrigued at seeing such a fabled object, hurried over to take a closer look. It was a deciduous tree, ten meters tall, bark dark gray with black streaks, its slender branches densely covered in soft down. Its crown spread wide, ovate to broadly ovate. Wu Ming snapped off a twig, and milky sap immediately oozed from the break. The spot he’d snapped healed in a blink, a pure white radiance shimmering from the wound.

“Amazing! It even glows!” Wu Ming exclaimed in awe.

“The glory of my Lord will shine upon the world! Oh my God, it’s the Holy Light Wood, the supreme treasure of my Lord!” Pete tapped his chest in a cross, adopting a pious attitude.

“This belongs to China, you know! Don’t get any ideas, foreign monk!” The Music Maiden produced a purple-red gourd and, with a flourish, swept the entire tree and a large patch of earth beneath it into the vessel. The others stared, jaws dropping.

“A Universe Gourd—I’m truly impressed! The Eastern Sects are indeed formidable!” Pete looked on enviously, a faint trace of greed flickering in his eyes.

“Pretty impressive, isn’t it? My grandfather refined it for me! He’s the Third Elder of our Qi Sect, and he’s really powerful!” The Music Maiden’s face shone with pride.

“Watch out!” Suddenly, a dark shape lunged at Wu Ming.

A massive, eggshell-shaped barrier of light enveloped Wu Ming with a snap, blocking the attack.

"Instant light-type magical shield, without any chant or hymn—Miss Music’s talent for light magic is truly unmatched, a child blessed by my Lord!” Pete straightened his priestly robe, admiration in his voice.

“That’s not magic. It’s our Qi Sect’s standard formation barrier. And who wants to be your priest or nun? Your robes are hideous! Ours are much prettier—celestial fairy attire!” The Music Maiden stuck out her tongue at Pete and promptly cast several more defensive barriers, shielding the entire group—everyone except Pete, nearly making him cough up blood in frustration. As the ancients wisely said: women and petty men are difficult to deal with, but even harder are little women.

Pete stamped his foot, thrust out his crucifix, and called, “Holy Light’s Protection!” A milky light shield enveloped him, but not before he’d taken several hits to the head. The greatest drawback of mages and priests, after all, was the time it took to cast spells—against a swift opponent, they were as helpless as ordinary mortals, destined for a quick beating.

Only then did the group see clearly: white-eared monkeys were perched in the treetops, hurling river stones at them with impressive speed and force. Whether ordinary people or cultivators, most would be left with cracked skulls and bloodied heads.

“These white-eared apes are trouble! Any ideas?” Director Rex called out. “We can’t just keep taking hits and not fight back. Besides, maintaining these barriers must be draining for Music.”

“I’m fine, I can hold out. Don’t worry about me! Attacks of this level? Piece of cake—I could keep this up for ten days, two weeks, no problem!” the Music Maiden replied, flashing a victory sign and beaming adorably, dimples and all.