Chapter Fourteen: Medusa!

When Sun Licheng opened his eyes, he still could not control his body; the venom from the lion was far too potent. The underground river he found himself in was not deep, and Sun Licheng floated up and down in the water, his abnormal physique making it difficult for death to claim him. Yet, in the eyes of many creatures, he had become the most delectable feast—and then, nothing more.

For those animals that became corpses, there was no “then.”

The fish in the river were clearly omnivorous. They would come by from time to time to take a bite out of Sun Licheng, only to end up as lifeless bodies floating in the water. Before long, a hundred fish or more drifted around him. In the pitch-black cavern, Sun Licheng could see nothing of his surroundings, only feeling the many fish, carried on the undulating currents, constantly bumping against his body.

After a long while, Sun Licheng began to regain control over himself. Ravenous, he grabbed the fish around him and stuffed them into his mouth.

The fish in the cold water were exceptionally delicious—tender, juicy, with a firm, springy texture. Apart from a single bone running down the middle, they had no extraneous spines. Even more precious, these fish lacked the strong, earthy odor common to river fish; Sun Licheng even sensed a tremendous energy within the flesh.

After consuming a large amount, he found his mind much clearer, his senses noticeably sharper, and his spirit invigorated.

As Sun Licheng recovered and ate, the cave was far from peaceful. He could clearly hear the sounds of fighting and roars echoing from the depths of the cavern—among them, the cry of the lion.

"It seems this place is even more dangerous than the surface," Sun Licheng muttered quietly to himself.

Having eaten his fill, he carefully crawled ashore, doing his utmost to remain silent so as not to attract other beasts. He felt his body had become more agile than before, his muscular control much improved, and he made not a single sound as he climbed from the water. Though he still could not see, his sharpened sense of touch and perception quickly led him to his backpack.

"It seems my perception, intelligence, and agility have all improved. Maybe I've even picked up a stealth skill," Sun Licheng remarked, drawing on his experience as a frequent gamer.

"If only my luck attribute would increase as well. Running into these deadly situations every other day is just too much," he lamented, his brief joy giving way to frustration. Humans are creatures of endless desire, and Sun Licheng was no exception.

According to games like Fallout and The Elder Scrolls, the seven basic attributes—strength, perception, endurance, charisma, intelligence, agility, and luck—could only be improved by great fortune or rare items. Yet, since arriving in this world, without even leaving his small domain, Sun Licheng had already improved himself twice—a nearly miraculous feat. Still, he was unsatisfied. If this were a game, the administrator would surely have struck him down with lightning for his greed.

Initially, Sun Licheng considered scooping up more fish, but the splashing would echo far and wide, and he quickly abandoned the idea to avoid drawing predators.

He dared not light a torch. Groping in the dark, he moved in the opposite direction from where the lion had appeared. He had not gone far when a thunderous roar erupted from deep below. Instinct told Sun Licheng that this was something even more dreadful than the lion. Terrified, he halted, his desire to move forward instantly snuffed out, and reluctantly turned back toward the lion's direction.

The "Majesty" in Sun Licheng's mind was on the verge of tears. After tens of thousands of years in hiding, he had now been brought straight to the enemy's doorstep by Sun Licheng, who was heading exactly where his unwilling passenger least desired. Yet, even as a deity, he was powerless—he could only sigh long and deep.

…

With one hand on the stone wall, Sun Licheng inched forward, the sound of flowing water in his ears, distant roars echoing now and then.

The cave road was treacherous, littered with obstacles every few steps. When he reached out to feel them, he found they were either rocks or decaying bones. Luckily, his heightened perception allowed him to detect these barriers early and skirt around them—otherwise, a fall might attract some dreadful beast.

Step by careful step, he traveled more than two kilometers when he saw a faint light ahead. He tightened the straps of his backpack and gripped a hefty bone club he had found, cautiously making his way forward.

As the light grew stronger, Sun Licheng gazed in astonishment at the stone walls. The illumination came not from torches, but from some peculiar stones embedded in the rock on each side. These stones were grayish white, each one about the size of a palm, shaped like tiny bulbs, glowing with a soft milky light that lit the entire cavern.

Curious, Sun Licheng reached out and touched one. The stone was warm. He quickly pulled back his hand. Stones that emitted both light and heat might well be highly radioactive. His first instinct was to flee, but the roars from afar dragged him back to reality.

“At a time like this, who cares about radiation? As long as I’m not eaten by monsters, I’ll count myself lucky,” he muttered with a wry grin.

And so, he continued deeper into the cave.

The further he went, the more abundant these glowing stones became, flooding the cave with light and revealing its contents ever more clearly. Sun Licheng could now see the ground strewn with the corpses of fierce beasts, their bodies scattered here and there, stretching into the distance.

The wounds on these animals varied greatly, clear evidence of violent struggle. Many of the corpses were maimed or incomplete. Sun Licheng suspected many of them were magical beasts, and that their bodies probably contained valuable crystals. But given the danger, escaping remained his top priority.

As he debated whether to harvest the magic crystals, a tremendous roar erupted ahead. He immediately felt a chill behind him—the terrifying scorpion-tailed lion was close.

Sun Licheng wilted at once, wanting to turn and flee, but the unspeakable terror from the other direction made him freeze. There was no going back, so he steeled himself, activated his stealth skills, and crept carefully toward the cave ahead.

Twisting and turning through another two hundred meters, he suddenly emerged into a vast cavern.

The chamber was immense—over thirty meters high, ninety meters long, and more than thirty meters wide. The stone walls were studded with all manner of glowing stones, bathing the cave in brilliant light. Giant stalactites connected ceiling to floor, and a river nearly ten meters wide flowed slowly along the left wall. The stones’ radiance shimmered on the water and the stalactites, painting the cave in dazzling, gem-like colors, making Sun Licheng feel as if he had entered a fairy tale.

Yet, for all the splendor, it was the two enormous figures within that nearly took his breath away.

Two monsters faced off in the center of the cavern. One was Sun Licheng’s old adversary—the lion with the scorpion’s tail. The other left him gaping in disbelief: a beautiful woman nearly two meters tall, with the body of a giant serpent. At the sight of her, a name leapt into Sun Licheng’s mind—Medusa!

In Greek mythology, there was a beautiful girl named Medusa who took pride in her looks and dared to challenge the goddess of wisdom, Athena. For this, Athena cursed her, transforming her into a hideous monster—her head and neck covered in scales, her lovely hair turned into writhing snakes, boar’s tusks sprouting from her lips, iron hands and golden wings on her back. Any who gazed upon her would immediately turn to stone.

Such was the legend on Earth. The serpent-woman before him lacked golden wings or hideous tusks; her head was crowned with golden hair that only enhanced her already enchanting beauty, stirring feelings in Sun Licheng he hadn’t expected. Yet he was certain: this was Medusa—a Medusa exuding an undeniable womanly allure.

Medusa and the lion seemed to be negotiating. The lion would roar from time to time, while Medusa hissed, her massive tail sweeping the ground. Sun Licheng could see quite clearly—a long forked tongue flickered from the woman’s mouth, a sight both strange and unsettling.

Their negotiations were not going well. Medusa’s tail lashed ever more violently, and the lion’s roars grew increasingly dangerous.

“Looks like things are about to break down,” Sun Licheng thought to himself.

Sure enough, Medusa suddenly raised a slender hand. A bolt of lightning shot toward the lion. True to her mythic origins, the lightning she unleashed was wrapped in a blue-white glow, its power unmistakable. The lion, much larger in size, was not to be outdone. With a roar that shook the cavern, a brilliant blue light burst from its mouth.

The two blasts of energy collided midair, exploding in a blinding flash and a deafening thunderclap. The stalactites above trembled and seemed ready to fall as a cloud of dust surged toward Sun Licheng, who quickly shut his eyes.

When he opened them again, the lion was already leaping through the smoke. Medusa countered with a sweep of her massive tail, sending a hail of stones hurtling at the lion. The lion’s forepaws flailed, smashing the rocks aside. In that instant, Medusa darted from the debris, and, as if by magic, conjured two golden blades into her hands.

Taking advantage of her initiative, the lion circled Medusa with vicious lunges and bites, its scorpion tail striking silently and unpredictably. Yet Medusa, undaunted, brandished her golden blades in a flurry, her enormous tail lashing her foe like a steel whip. Even more astonishing, her hair had transformed into a mass of writhing snakes, each one striking at the lion whenever it found an opening.

The two monsters unleashed their full might in a struggle to the death, neither able to gain the upper hand.

Though Sun Licheng was awed by the spectacle, he knew this was no place to linger. He thought of retreating, but then, inexplicably, felt a voice in the depths ahead calling to him.

“Should I go? Or go? Or still go?” After a brief inner struggle, curiosity triumphed over caution. Sun Licheng decided to risk everything, relying on his stealth to slip past the battleground.

He did not notice the faint sigh that echoed in his mind.

Sun Licheng drew himself in tight, pushing his agility to its limit. He pressed close to the cavern wall, inching his way past the two combatants.

The monsters fought with such ferocity that every blow sent gusts of wind stinging Sun Licheng’s skin. Thanks to his enhanced perception, he knew that both creatures had already sensed his presence. But locked in mortal combat, neither could spare the energy to deal with him. Still, as he crept by, he could feel their savage gazes sweep over him, raising the hairs on his neck.

After what seemed an eternity, Sun Licheng finally slipped past the battling monsters. Without pausing for breath or sound, he sprinted at top speed toward the depths of the cave.

Behind him, the sounds of battle only grew fiercer— the lion’s roars louder than ever, joined now by a shrill, piercing scream.

Sun Licheng dared not pause for even a heartbeat. He ran on, ever more desperately, into the unknown ahead.