Chapter 75: Rather Poor Luck

Chapter 75: Rather Poor Luck

Sensing the earth tremble, Alger’s heart tightened. He glanced at Gehrman Sparrow and acted in place of words.

The wind around him abruptly howled, helping him run sideways with greater ease and speed.

The reason Alger acted so directly was because he worried that Gehrman Sparrow might suddenly go mad and decide to hunt the terrifying creature hidden inside the pitch-black cave. If that happened, even if they ultimately won, it would certainly be extremely detrimental to the exploration afterward.

And as an experienced Sailor, he knew that decisive action had a power of suggestion and contagion. It could cause a companion who had yet to make a decision to unconsciously follow or imitate.

Seeing this, Klein secretly let out a breath of relief, gave up discussing the issue of courtesy, and strode forward, running with thudding steps toward the Hanged Man’s rear flank.

Immediately afterward, he felt gale winds blowing from behind and beneath his feet, pushing him and lifting him forward. The gravity he had to overcome was significantly reduced, while additional propulsion increased his speed by more than double in an instant.

Amid the howling wind, Klein and Alger rushed out of the sparse-wooded area and circled to the side of that deep darkness.

Just then, both their heartbeats suddenly slowed. They were clearly in the middle of intense exercise, yet they felt somewhat like people lying in afternoon sunlight, about to fall asleep.

Klein then felt his body grow cold. An indescribable gloom surfaced without warning and seeped inward, strand by strand.

At the same time, he saw the light from Alger’s lantern being covered inch by inch by a massive shadow rising from behind them. The corresponding scene naturally surfaced in his mind:

From the pitch-black cave emerged a giant serpent so thick a single person could not encircle it with both arms. It had enormous dark-green scales tinged with black, and exaggerated eyes that seemed to burn with flames.

Between the gaps of its scales grew white feathers stained with pale-yellow grease. On its back, there was even a pair of thick wings that could spread open.

Half crawling, half flying, the giant serpent raised its body high, coiling around a towering, sturdy tree. It flicked its pitch-black tongue and watched, from afar, the two human figures who had just intruded near its territory.

Around it, trees withered rapidly, all the weeds rotted away, and countless corpses crawled out from beneath the soil. Invisible shadows crowded around its side.

Feathered Serpent!

This was a Feathered Serpent!

In the Southern Continent, it was a sacred symbol—the emblem of the Eggers family, descendants of Death.

Klein and Alger did not pause. Enduring the coldness in their bodies and their slowing heartbeats, they used the help of even fiercer winds to charge into the depths of the black forest, leaving that sparse-wooded area far behind.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Their heartbeats gradually returned to normal. The chill on the surface of their bodies was dispersed little by little by the heat generated by intense movement.

Klein’s spiritual intuition told him that the danger from just now had passed. He slowed his pace, turned back for a glance, and calmly said toward the distant, tree-filled, deep darkness, “A demigod-level Feathered Serpent.”

“Demigod-level…” Alger likewise reduced his speed. A vein on his forehead jumped faintly.

After a pause of two seconds, he exhaled softly and said, “There is no need to mind it too much. The extraordinary creatures here have a strong sense of territory. Unless they intend to hunt, they will not enter other regions—especially areas near the mountain peak. That Feathered Serpent should not pursue us.”

Klein nodded lightly, then said, “The extraordinary creatures here are powerful.”

Alger withdrew his gaze and shook his head.

“No. There are many weak ones too.

“I have come here at night before, but I only discovered…