Chapter 37: The Giant Serpent Departs

Just as Liu Zhi was dealing with the relationship between the Underworld Palace and ‘reality’, on the other side of the jungle, Perkin stared resentfully at a tree perched atop a distant waterfall.

That tree grew right in the middle of the falls, appearing from afar to be a blend of banyan and peach, with a tangle of aerial roots and clusters of withering fruit. Many of the fruits were no bigger than a thumb, their green shells still adorned with a few lingering petals.

“Why? Why is this happening? Hope is right before my eyes—why can’t I reach it? Lloyd, stop trying to hold me back. I have to climb up myself. I must go and claim my hope.”

His voice, carried by the thunder of the waterfall, grew louder.

But Lloyd clung tightly to him. “Uncle, you can’t go. You saw what’s below the falls—a writhing mass of giant serpents. If you fall, it’s over. The current is far too strong; there’s no way we can climb up.”

“But it’s right there! My hope!” Perkin roared. He had prepared so much for this expedition, including tools for just such a situation, but his backpack was gone. Even if he had the right equipment, it was useless now. All he could do was stare helplessly at the blood-stained fruit, so close yet utterly unattainable.

Under this crushing pressure and frustration, Perkin’s face grew ever paler. At last, as the sun rose, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Collapsing into Lloyd’s arms, Perkin pointed at the blood-stained tree on the waterfall. “Remember this spot. We’ve found it, haven’t we? Don’t worry about me, and don’t search for that backpack. Remember the way back. Find the right backers and return in seven years. I won’t make it, but you must bring our family back to high society.”

“Uncle—”

“Don’t speak. Remember, our ancestor was the Grand Count of Cissé, not some so-called court baron. I’ve left secret bases in both Port Tortuga and Port Naia—have someone watch them when you return. If anyone enters those apartments, that’s the one who took my backpack.

If you can’t find it, so be it. But promise to return in seven years. Find a way to get the fruit from that tree. For preservation, you can leave other things behind, but you must bring fresh beast skins—otherwise, what you carry out won’t be medicine, but poison.”

Listening, Lloyd nodded solemnly.

Just then, Perkin’s color seemed to improve. He forced himself upright, pushed Lloyd away, and staggered toward the waterfall.

But he’d only taken a few steps when sunlight bathed the blood-stained tree. Instantly, the already withered fruit shriveled to black ash.

A flurry of black ash, like snow, drifted down and scattered across the serpent-ball in the pool beneath the falls. The massed serpents, stung by the ash, slipped quietly into the waters. Soon, Perkin and Lloyd watched as the great snakes, one after another, glided away in all directions along the route they’d come, not pausing for a moment.

Lloyd was stunned by the sight. He had no idea there were so many giant snakes in the pool. Thinking back on the night he’d spent there, he realized just how close he’d come to disaster.

“So many snakes, Uncle. You—Uncle?” Lloyd, mid-sentence, noticed Perkin standing motionless by the pool, black tears streaming from his eyes.

“Uncle!” Lloyd shouted, but Perkin could not be roused.

Holding his uncle’s body, Lloyd wept before gently laying Perkin flat.

By now, all the giant serpents had vanished beneath the water, leaving only a pool dusted with black ash beneath the falls.

Hesitating briefly, Lloyd removed a few small ornaments from Perkin’s body. Then, seeing no way to carry the corpse through the jungle, he prepared to consign it to the pool.

At that moment, an arrow whistled past and struck the ground at Lloyd’s feet. A group of dark-skinned natives burst from the undergrowth, shouting at Lloyd as they advanced.

Lloyd drew his weapon—a long silver sword that shimmered with light as he swung it.

“Don’t attack! We mean you no harm. But you mustn’t throw the body into the pool,” one of the natives shouted in perfect Cissé.

“Who are you?” Lloyd demanded, sword still raised, fixing the man with his gaze.

“I’m Park, a warrior from the local Serpentbane Tribe,” the native replied. “We are sworn enemies of the giant serpents.” As he spoke, Park showed Lloyd his tattoos—white-inked images of giant serpents slain by arrows and spears.

“Serpentbane Tribe?”

“Yes. We have lived in this jungle for generations. But every seven years, the giant serpents return, devouring anything in their path—a cycle we call the Great Serpent Grazing. Our goal is to kill one serpent every seven years. Over time, their numbers will dwindle, and the land will be ours.”

“Only one every seven years? Why not more?” Lloyd asked.

“Because we can’t defeat more,” Park replied bluntly.

“Oh.” Lloyd thought for a moment about the serpents’ power and found nothing surprising in Park’s admission—it was nothing to be ashamed of.

Still, Lloyd was curious. “But why can’t I put the body in the pool?”

“The giant serpents have excellent memories. Once, we set an ambush beneath the pool, but they discovered us. Afterwards, the serpents went berserk and attacked every tribe nearby. Several forces as strong as ours were wiped out. Since then, we’ve learned—never throw anything into the pool.”

Hearing this, Lloyd could only grunt in understanding. “Do you know where the serpents come from?”

“Yes. According to the oldest legends, they are guardians of an ancient empire—divine weapons, set to guard a demon imprisoned deep in the jungle. To escape its seal, the demon spread a rumor to the outside world, calling its prison the City of Gold…”