novelraw Chapter 10 : Chapter 10
Chapter 10 : Chapter 10
Chapter 10: Beneath the Nine-Story Tower
The deck of the bronze ship was vast.
Gao Huan and I walked along the hull through the ghostly mist for nearly a kilometer before the Golden Crow’s corpse gradually came into view.
One of its wings draped over the tombstone forest on the deck, the other rested on the nine-story tower. Even a beast like the Nine Infants seemed small compared to it.
Dead for countless years, its body wasn’t cold but gleamed golden, with flickers of firelight.
Even from a hundred meters away, waves of heat rolled from its corpse.
Each feather of the Golden Crow was dozens of times larger than a human, radiant and resplendent, breathtakingly beautiful. It was hard to imagine how dazzling it must have been alive.
Could it truly have transformed into a sun roaming the heavens, as myths claimed?
Its fatal wound was in its head, pierced by an unknown weapon, leaving a three-meter-long, horrific gash.
The Golden Crow blood used for planting was drawn from a twenty-meter-wide blood pool beneath the gash. When freshly collected, the blood’s temperature neared boiling and required special cooling.
I stood by the pool, observing. The Golden Crow’s blood was vivid red with faint golden glimmers.
The scent was strong but not pungent.
Instead, it carried an enticing, vital aroma.
If not for the Golden Crow’s fearsome reputation as a “bird of destruction,” the research team would’ve drunk it without hesitation.
“No wonder they want to drink it. Golden Crow blood must taste as rich as grilled meat. Plus, the chance of immortality—it’s maddening,” Gao Huan said, swallowing hard. “If this were on Earth, one drop would have billionaires throwing fortunes at it, and we’ve got a whole pool. Use your charm on Dr. Cai, man. Our university saying goes, ‘If a junior wants a senior’s love, be rich or handsome.’”
“Spouting rhymes—planning to go for a Ph.D.?” I laughed.
Perhaps because I’d just achieved an extraordinary feat, my body craved high-grade sustenance, my appetite even stronger than Gao Huan’s.
The scorching airflow in my right foot’s sole surged uncontrollably, coursing through the thirteen silver veins, as if urging me to drink the Golden Crow blood.
“The greater the temptation, the greater the danger.”
I suppressed the airflow and quickly left the blood pool.
…
On the other side, the Black Dragon was severed in two by a sharp weapon, its body thicker than my height.
Its scales, like fan-sized iron plates, radiated an icy chill.
At the cut, its blood had frozen into purple-red crystals, requiring an axe to chip off and heat to melt.
Near the Black Dragon’s corpse lay scattered armored human skeletons.
Six members of Lab 705 were studying a particularly unique skeleton, sketching its structure and recording the inscriptions and patterns on its armor.
This skeleton was special—its skull glowed faintly like luminous stone, metallized, smooth to the touch, and clanged like iron when struck.
Hearing our footsteps, the six from Lab 705 turned toward Gao Huan and me.
Gao Huan, ever sociable, grinned, “Director Yang, any discoveries?”
Among the six, a burly man with a crew cut, nearly two meters tall, gripped a shotgun tightly, his eyes wary. Recognizing us as strolling patients, he relaxed slightly.
The tense atmosphere on the bronze ship had eroded trust among the groups.
Director Yang, still amicable, smiled, “Those who died on this ship were no ordinary beings—science can’t explain them. These skeletons’ armor weighs at least a thousand pounds. The six of us together couldn’t move it.”
“The weapons are heavy too. The lightest spear needs two people to barely lift, with incredible density, made of unknown material.”
I wanted to try lifting a ten-foot ancient spear but stopped after touching it, asking, “How did they die? It’s so strange—who killed them?”
“Could there be some unknown danger on this ship?” Gao Huan added.
Director Yang said, “We’ve studied this bronze ship under microscopes for years. The Golden Crow, Black Dragon, and these armored humans were likely intruders, seeking treasure, exploration, or conquest. There must be a dangerous force on this ship we can’t comprehend!”
Gao Huan asked curiously, “Aren’t we intruders too? Why haven’t we been killed?”
The six from Lab 705 grew somber.
Not being killed now didn’t mean safety later.
I speculated, “Maybe we’re too weak, or we haven’t violated any taboos, so the danger hasn’t struck.”
Director Yang hoped this was true, then pointed ahead: “See that nine-story tower? Pass through the narrow passage between it and the hull’s railing, and you’ll reach the stern. There’s an ancient garden with pavilions, halls, towers, and corridors—likely the ship owner’s residence.”
Gao Huan said, “You think they were killed by the ship’s owner?”
“It’s a highly likely guess,” Director Yang replied.
I looked at the tower, grand and towering, each floor thirty to forty feet high, bathed in deep red under the Golden Crow’s glow.
Oddly, each floor’s railing was lined with numerous humanoid stone statues.
The cabin doors were sealed, hiding unknown mysteries.
Tombs, graves, ghost flags, statues…
This was no ordinary ship.
Gao Huan said, “They’ve been dead at least a thousand years, maybe more. Even if the ship’s owner killed them, they’re surely long gone.”
Director Yang smiled, “Exactly. A being capable of slaying the Golden Crow and Black Dragon—how could they let the ship languish on the Buddha’s relic for millennia?”
“But Director, the ship’s sailing again!” a bespectacled middle-aged woman from Lab 705 reminded.
After bidding farewell to the Lab 705 team, I headed toward the nine-story tower.
Without getting close, I gazed from a dozen meters away at the narrow passage to the stern.
The passage, thick with mist, was lined with stone statues of various expressions and poses. A timid person would’ve fled in fear.
The passage was dark, the stern invisible.
“The celestial glow I saw likely came from the ancient garden Director Yang mentioned. What kind of place is it?” My curiosity surged, but something felt off.
Gao Huan followed, excited: “The ship’s owner was no ordinary being. Their residence might hold elixirs or divine drugs. Li, shall we sneak a peek?”
I noticed something and stepped forward, crouching.
There was a patch of dried black blood on the ground.
I rubbed it with my finger, sniffing it closely.
My eyes snapped to the dark passage ahead, now wary and grave: “Since we fell onto the bronze ship, have we seen that bear-like creature?”
“You mean the Ghost Bear Emperor? Why ask that suddenly?” Gao Huan said.
I said, “The entire expedition, including the Dragon Pole, fell onto the bronze ship. How could the bear-like… the Ghost Bear Emperor, be an exception?”
“That’s true, a bit strange… But if it fell here, it’s been five days. Why hasn’t it come out to hunt?” Gao Huan said.
“It might be on the ship.”
I pointed to the blood: “This is its blood! It’s likely badly injured, so it’s hiding for now.”
“How do you know it’s its blood?”
Gao Huan was curious, doubtful, and starting to panic.
I couldn’t explain—my enhanced sense of smell, gained from my extraordinary feat, let me recognize the Ghost Bear Emperor’s blood.
From a distance, a familiar voice called: “Are you two courting death, coming here?”
“Dr. Qi, we’re just strolling… heh,” Gao Huan said, forcing a smile.
“Is this a place for strolling? One with a broken right arm, the other with an injured left—half-crippled, both of you. Get back to the medical shack!” Qi Shanshan scolded coldly.
I had heard her footsteps earlier, so I wasn’t startled. Standing, I joined Gao Huan’s sheepish grin: “Director Yang said there’s an ancient garden at the stern. We were wondering if it holds elixirs that could heal us!”
Qi Shanshan, ever conscious of her beauty, wore delicate makeup despite the circumstances. Her skin was translucent, cheeks flushed, lips red, her white physician’s coat spotless, paired with high heels and flesh-toned stockings. She was over 1.7 meters tall, with a slim waist, striking curves, and her light blue shirt straining at the third and fourth buttons. She exuded femininity.
Her cold scolding, unlike Cai Yutong’s, was softer, less oppressive, with a magnetic charm.
Qi Shanshan frowned: “He didn’t tell you it’s dangerous? Four team members went to explore that passage and never returned.”
Gao Huan and I exchanged stunned glances.
Director Yang seemed kind and approachable—an old fox in disguise?
If I hadn’t spotted the Ghost Bear Emperor’s blood, and if Qi Shanshan hadn’t come, we might’ve followed those four team members’ fate.
Qi Shanshan’s chest heaved with anger, hand on her forehead: “You two are such naive kids, fresh from school! Li Weiyi, don’t you know everyone suspects the Buddha’s relic is with you? Director Yang values it more than his life—he’s likely testing you.”
Gao Huan stepped back as if avoiding a plague: “Li, you almost got me killed without knowing why.”
Qi Shanshan glared at him: “You deserve it! Li Weiyi’s a freshman, lacking experience, so it’s understandable he’d be fooled. You’re a third-year grad student—don’t you have any caution? If there’s something good, would anyone kindly tell you?”
Gao Huan wasn’t upset, seemingly delighted to be scolded by Qi Shanshan. Suddenly, he offered eagerly, “Dr. Qi, big discovery! This dried blood might be from the Ghost Bear Emperor.”
Qi Shanshan rolled her eyes: “That blood was found two days ago and tested—it’s from the bear-like creature. The four who entered the tower passage were likely eaten by it. Leave now! Who knows when it’ll heal? With our limited ammo… sigh, it’s up to fate!”
I was deeply worried.
The Ghost Bear Emperor was likely an extraordinary creature, explaining its terrifying speed and physique. Its self-healing shouldn’t be slower than mine.
With three extra days to heal, even if more injured, it was likely nearly recovered.
Gao Huan and I hurried back with Qi Shanshan, eager to distance ourselves from the nine-story tower.
Qi Shanshan’s long legs moved rhythmically, her heels clicking.
I asked, “Since it’s confirmed, why not gather all guns and weapons to kill it while it’s still injured?”
“That creature’s too strong. Even in the open with ample ammo, we couldn’t handle it. Now, hidden in the dark, it’s even harder. That’s one reason.”
Qi Shanshan’s eyes were sharp: “Second, facing it is near-certain death—who’d dare?”
“Third, the ship has three guns with limited ammo. Everyone sees them as tools to maintain their status and power. Without weapons, who’d respect them?”
“Everyone dies together.”
“But losing status and power is worse than death.”
“In short, with divided hearts and hidden motives, nothing gets done.”