Six-Armed Serpent Demon

Page 15

His body stiffened for a moment, then relaxed again. The old hunter let out a long breath.

Ahead was a clearing in the forest, where the corpses of the blood apes were piled up like mountains.

The heavy rain washed away the stench of blood in the air.

He raised his withered arm and made a series of gestures for everyone to see.

—The Blood Ape had just died not long ago.

—Be careful, the snake-man is nearby.

Tancred did not tell the hired natives what exactly they were tracking.

He felt that they wouldn't understand even if he explained, and he couldn't let these superstitious people back down, so he decided to use something similar that they would find easiest to accept instead.

So he told them that their target was a deformed snake-man with six arms.

Even now, old man Guruk still believes that their opponent is a snake-man with six arms.

The six-armed serpent demon stood opposite him, coldly watching the jungle hunters across the open space and the Blood Ape Corpse Mountain in the center of the open space.

Her demonic vision was enough to pierce through the heavy rain.

She saw them in groups of three or five, each group leader wearing a whistle on their chest. The old hunter in the center of the front line, in particular, never let go of the whistle—he kept it in his mouth vigilantly, never letting it leave his lips for a moment.

They seemed very worried about being ambushed by their prey—the jungle natives were probably hunting very dangerous beasts.

but…

She stared intently at the natives, gradually noticing something amiss.

The whistles hanging from their chests and held in their mouths by these indigenous people were made of pure copper, and even had exquisite patterns on them. The sound of these copper whistles was particularly loud and had extraordinary penetrating power.

How could this be something native to use? How could they have this metalworking skill? Their weapons are just sharpened pieces of wood and bamboo!

A thought popped into my head: these natives have someone backing them.

There are not only powerful figures behind them, but they can only be Samarachi people, and they are of high status.

What a coincidence! A certain Samarachian nobleman hired a group of jungle natives to help him hunt, but they bumped into her in the jungle?

Memories of their past lives flooded the minds of the reborn.

The way jungle natives spread out in formation and cover each other as they searched and advanced was a technique that appeared in many television movies on Earth in the past.

The formation used by Africans to hunt lions with nets is similar to this. However, everyone also lights fireworks, bangs drums and gongs, and makes a lot of noise to scare the lion out of its hiding place in the grass and bushes.

In the movie "Tunnel Warfare," the Japanese soldiers used this same advancing formation when they swept through the village, and their behavior was similar to that of the locals today. "Enter the village quietly, don't fire a single shot," all the Japanese soldiers and puppet troops were careful and made no sound.

His emerald green vertical pupils regained their clarity.

She gave a slight, cold laugh.

His murderous intent intensified, but gradually subsided, sweeping away his previous reckless and impetuous mentality.

The difference between hunting lions and searching for guerrilla fighters is:

One is dealing with ignorant beasts, while the other is dealing with intelligent and intelligent creatures. Therefore, the former deliberately makes noise, while the latter deliberately conceals its whereabouts.

So this wasn't some serendipitous hunt; they were after her all along!

The image of Tankred's seemingly dignified face came to mind.

A faint blue flame ignited in its emerald eyes, and the half-human, half-snake demonic body silently retreated into the dense forest.

All networks have edges.

At the far right edge of the "snake net" set up by the old man Guruk, six hunters led by Tusu, the "warrior among warriors" of the tribe, were trudging through the rain in the primeval jungle to the right of the clearing.

Tusu was the strongest and biggest of all the jungle hunters.

He was nearly two meters tall. His body was bulging with muscles, and his strength was enough to rival that of a water buffalo. He was bald, and his skin was darker than charcoal, making him look like a statue of coal. Even the gourd he wore around his waist was larger than others.

Once he goes berserk, even tigers in the jungle will retreat.

At this moment, he tucked his obsidian axe into the straw rope at his back, held the crossbow horizontally, and carefully observed the surrounding movements.

The crossbow's bow was made from half a thick bamboo pole; without someone as strong as Tusu, it was impossible to draw it.

The crossbow was crudely made, resulting in a short range, but its power was terrifying; it could pierce through a water buffalo with a single arrow within twenty paces. That's why it was called the "Buffalo-Shooting Crossbow."

Tusu takes bigger steps and walks faster than others.

He was already impatient hunting in the pouring rain, and this impatience urged him to lead his men a little faster, unknowingly creating a slight gap between them and the others in the "snake net" in the jungle.

Although he was burning with impatience, Tusu couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement when he thought of the reward promised by the southerners.

Those were twenty boars.

Tusu is the tallest and has a big appetite; it's been a long time since he's been able to eat his fill without any worries.

When the old man Guluk brought the conditions from the South, a thought raced through Tusu's mind:

—Just by blowing the whistle to send a message, the tribe gets so much meat. If we could capture that six-armed snake-man, how much meat would the southerners reward us with?

Tusu had never seen a snake-man.

But he firmly believed that power was everything, and he had plenty of power.

There's nothing that can't be solved with a stone axe to the head; if there is, then just give it another swing.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Tusu caught a glimpse of a figure flashing past to his right.

The strong native man's heart skipped a beat.

As a hunter, Tusu had excellent eyesight and could see his opponent clearly in a fleeting glance.

She was an incredibly beautiful woman. She had jet-black hair, emerald green eyes, and fair, smooth skin, as flawless as jade. She was likely of southern descent.

Moreover, she was completely naked.

This caused a dull, drumming sound to come from the gourd-shaped object protecting his genitals below his waist.

So he put away the crossbow, which he had been using to shoot bulls, and turned to give the order: "I have something to do. You guys continue forward and do as that old man Guluk says."

Due to the difference in the angle of the tree shadows, the other six hunters did not see the woman and looked at their leader in confusion.

“It’s an upset stomach,” Tusu said, unwilling to elaborate.

If there were a wizard who could detect thoughts at this moment, he would be stunned by the indescribable, violent thoughts surging in Tusu's mind.

So the six hunters watched, bewildered, as their leader chuckled and quickened his pace, heading toward the bushes where the woman had disappeared.

Unbeknownst to anyone, a huge snake shadow was slithering past the six hunters.

Hidden among waist-high bushes and grass, the six-armed serpent demon wrapped its two arms around a greatsword behind its back, while its other four arms and long tail crawled along the ground. Its imposing, jade-like chest was covered in mud and blood.

After testing her projection technique, she silently slipped through the gap between the six hunters and the main force of natives, successfully moving behind the "snake net."

The snake's tail slowly coiled up.

Six swords in hand.

Tusu muttered to himself, glancing back every few steps as he emerged from the bushes.

He wiped the rain off his face, his eyes filled with confusion and anger.

Such a beautiful woman, gone just like that.

He examined the muddy ground closely, but there wasn't a single trace of it.

But he couldn't be wrong. As one of the tribe's top hunters, Tusu had absolute confidence in his eyesight.

Did I see a ghost?

Just then, Tusu stared blankly at the rear, his mind reeling.

That familiar figure… a flawless body, and that extraordinaryly beautiful face—it was that woman!

But the woman was rising slowly behind the many natives, like a vine breaking through the soil, as if being lifted into the air by some force.

Tusu was dumbfounded.

He saw her reveal the enormous, black serpentine body beneath her waist.

Six jade arms, each wielding a greatsword, slowly unfolded in the air, resembling giant flower petals.

The next second, the petals swayed in the wind, then gently spun, turning into a whirlwind of death, whipping up large amounts of rain and blood!

Chapter 17 Sword Wind vs. Fury

The shadows of the trees swayed.

The water on the sword blade, along with the crisscrossing sword light, scattered in the air, forming six fan shapes.

The torrential rain drowned out the sound of the sword slicing through flesh and breaking bones.

The sword silently pierced the jungle hunter's nape. His head rolled off, and a jet of blood spurted from his neck, reaching a full meter high.

In the blink of an eye, the last group of five men in the "snake-catching net" were cut down like grass. The leader of this group was decapitated without uttering a sound, not even having time to put the copper whistle to his lips.

Meanwhile, far away in the middle of a forest clearing.

Old man Guruk had just arrived at the pile of blood ape corpses and hadn't even had time to examine the wounds on the bodies when he heard Tusu's roar coming from the jungle on his right.

Old man Guluk puffed out his cheeks, about to blow his brass whistle. But he immediately noticed that Tusu was roaring and seemed to be fighting something, but he didn't blow the whistle.

The old man hesitated.

Why didn't Tusu whistle? Wasn't he encountering snake people?

"Gurgle, gurgle"

Just then, old man Guruk heard a soft, strange cry coming from the bushes to his left, just inches away. The old hunter immediately tensed his muscles and raised his poisoned spear into the bushes.

Before he could throw his spear, a dark figure leaped up and, using both hands and feet, fled swiftly into the depths of the primeval jungle.

That looked like something in the shape of a human?

Old man Guruk carefully observed the shadowy figure's back. The thing didn't have six arms and walked on two legs; it shouldn't be a snake-man.

But its arms were shaped so strangely, like two giant hooks. And its back, gleaming in the rain, looked as if it were covered in a layer of armor—this was definitely not a native jungle creature.

Two outsiders have appeared in the same place at the same time. Is it possible that there is no connection between them?

Old man Guluk's heart sank; he knew he wouldn't have time to support Tusu for the time being.

The jungle to the right of the snake net had become a sea of ​​blood.

As soon as Tusu emerged from the bushes, he saw their target: the six-armed snake-man who had just slaughtered a group of hunters behind him.

He was both surprised and angry, but he had not forgotten his mission. He immediately raised his arm to blow the whistle—before setting off, he had strung the brass whistle with a leather cord and tightly wrapped it around his right wrist.

However, they found an empty space.

Before Tusu could figure out what was happening, a strong force suddenly grabbed his wrist. His right arm involuntarily stretched forward, and he was pulled down into the mud.

The copper whistle wrapped around his wrist seemed to be controlled by an invisible force, dragging his hundreds of pounds of flesh as he flew unstoppably toward the snake-woman.

The underground tree roots and the stones in the mud scraped his body hard, causing a burning pain.

The leather cord with the copper whistle was tightly bound to his wrist, with such force that it seemed as if it would twist his hand off his wrist.

Tusu winced in pain, the sweat on his forehead being washed away by the rain.

That damned snake-woman knows magic!

There are three groups of jungle hunters on the right flank. The hunter team leaders and experienced hunters, a total of seven people, wear copper whistles issued by the Southerners.

At this moment, under the control of mind telekinesis, the seven bronze whistles flew together toward the owner of the spell-like ability.

The three bronze whistles dragged their holders, including Tusu, to the ground, while the other four bronze whistles broke free from the jungle hunter's grasp and flew directly to the six-armed snake demon, circling her upper body slowly.

Tusu gritted his teeth, enduring the pain of being dragged, and pulled out an obsidian axe from his lower back, cutting the leather strap on his right wrist.

The fifth bronze whistle, having shed its burden, immediately flew to the side of the six-armed serpent demon and joined the ranks of the previous four bronze whistles.

Then came the sixth and seventh bronze whistles.

One of the bronze whistles still had a leather cord attached, and blood mixed with rainwater was dripping continuously from the bottom of the cord—the owner of this bronze whistle was unlucky; he had hung it around his neck.

The leather cord holding the whistle snapped off his head.

Seeing the horrific scene, the jungle hunters present were all red-eyed.

Indigenous people rarely flee during tribal hunts and battles.

This is because the companions were all relatives or friends of the same tribe, and everyone's family was related to each other in some way. Anyone who abandoned their companions and ran away alone was a traitor. Even if they didn't face revenge when they returned to the village, they would never be able to hold their heads high again.