Chapter Sixty-Nine: A Shattered Mind

“You rascal.” The Dragon King saw his attendant knocked unconscious by the figure in the black cloak, and a surge of fury rushed to his head. He raised his hand and swung it hard toward the black-cloaked face.

The black cloak only sneered coldly as the slap came, making no attempt to dodge, letting the Dragon King’s thick, heavy hand approach.

Slap!

The Dragon King was certain his palm would land squarely on the black cloak’s face, but to his utter surprise, in that split second, it smacked solidly against Ghost-face Zhang’s raised arm. No one knew when Ghost-face Zhang had stepped in front of the black cloak.

“Third Brother!” The Dragon King’s anger could no longer be contained, and he bellowed, unconsciously tightening his grip.

Ghost-face Zhang snorted, exerting a subtle force and flinging the Dragon King’s hand aside.

“Sha Seventh, don’t be impulsive,” Ghost-face Zhang said coldly. He strode over to the unconscious attendant, pinched the man’s skull again, and a horrifying crack echoed, the grinding of bone reaching our ears once more.

“Ugh…” The attendant let out a long groan, slowly opening his eyes.

Ghost-face Zhang glanced at the Dragon King standing nearby. “Sha Seventh, if you don’t know what’s happening, don’t meddle.” He pointed at the black cloak. “This one just temporarily shut down the central part of the attendant’s skull. He needed a break before rebooting, like hitting the restart button on a frozen computer. It’s merely a revival of his brain.”

I’d never studied medicine, but this explanation terrified me. If the central nerves were severed, wouldn’t he never wake up? I wondered how much strength the black cloak possessed—snapping tree branches one-handed, dislocating a human skull with her fingers. If she ever helped her husband in bed, the poor man’s lifeblood might not survive. Ah, I truly pitied her husband. Then, I felt thankful that I hadn’t indulged in anything improper with her in the past few days; otherwise, perhaps I’d have had my own functions permanently ruined.

As my mind wandered, the attendant slowly sat up, appearing normal but somewhat weak.

“How are you?” Ghost-face Zhang leaned over him.

The attendant shook his head, trying to clear it further, rubbing his temples and sighing, “Third Master, Third Master… it’s terrifying, underwater…”

His eyes widened, the words catching in his throat.

“Don’t rush, speak slowly,” Ghost-face Zhang soothed.

The attendant steadied himself, writhing as if wracked by terror, unable to utter a word, as if two personalities in his body were battling fiercely.

We huddled round, watching the tormented attendant in astonishment. What could frighten such an experienced tomb raider so deeply?

He gestured wildly for five or six minutes before finally blurting out, “There’s… a monster under the water!”

“What?” The Dragon King was stunned, eyes wide. “Did you see it clearly?”

The attendant fell back into his earlier state, waving his hands frantically as if swatting flies, denying the Dragon King’s question with exaggerated gestures.

Ghost-face Zhang frowned at the strange behavior, reaching to pinch the attendant’s head once more, but the black cloak stopped him. “Wait, Third Master Zhang, don’t pinch again. Another time and his nerves could snap—he might never wake up.”

Ghost-face Zhang nodded and withdrew his hand. “So, what do we do now?”

“I say let him keep talking. In my view, he really did see some monster in the water.”

As the black cloak finished speaking, the attendant slowly spat out another phrase, “Below the surface… the monster below the surface… ate Old Eight… ate his head… his head…”

After this broken sentence, the attendant began convulsing again, now scratching his head wildly as if it itched beyond measure.

“Who is Old Eight?” Ghost-face Zhang asked.

The Dragon King hesitated and sighed, “He’s the one who went underwater with him.”

“Old Eight… Old Eight… the monster below bit off his head… blood… blood dyed the lake red before the monster…”

Hearing the attendant’s third stuttering phrase, we finally understood—the underwater monster had killed the one called Old Eight. But that alone shouldn’t terrify this seasoned tomb raider to such an extent. Why was the sight of a decapitated corpse so dreadful?

“Did you see what the monster under the water looked like?” Ghost-face Zhang squinted at him.

The attendant seemed not to hear, staring blankly at the water, utterly terrified.

Ghost-face Zhang pushed his shoulder. “Hey, did you see what the monster looked like?”

Still, the attendant didn’t respond, as if in a trance.

Ghost-face Zhang grew impatient, frowning, and was about to push him again when suddenly the attendant’s eyes bulged, bloodshot, veins throbbing on his forehead, eyebrows bristling, hands clutching Ghost-face Zhang’s chest.

Ghost-face Zhang was taken aback, but his usual composure prevailed. He stared coldly at the frenzied attendant.

The attendant’s blood-red eyes locked onto Ghost-face Zhang, and slowly, a twisted smile appeared on his face, full of resentment. “Under the water… it’s a dragon… a dragon!”

At his words, all were struck as if by lightning. Silence fell—the only sounds were the attendant’s mournful laughter and the rush of waves striking stone and stalactites.

After a long, heavy pause, the attendant collapsed in front of Ghost-face Zhang. Ghost-face Zhang glanced at the fallen man, then at the black cloak beside him, and his hoarse voice shattered the quiet, “Didn’t you say there was no dragon beneath the water?”

The black cloak was caught off guard by Ghost-face Zhang’s sudden questioning, but steadied herself and spoke slowly, “I never lied to you. Even if I had, I’d never gamble with Qiutong’s life.”

Ghost-face Zhang snorted, clearly doubting her, eyes narrowed suspiciously at the black cloak.

She sneered, “Third Master Zhang, if you don’t trust me, why keep me here? If we can’t trust each other, I’d rather take Qiutong and leave.” She grabbed my hand, preparing to unload the third boat from the iron rack.

“Hmph!” Ghost-face Zhang snorted, leaping in front of the black cloak, and swung a palm with a whistle through the air. Sensing danger, the black cloak shoved me aside with such force I nearly toppled into the water. She ducked her head and shoulder, barely dodging, but the blow tore through her cloak, ripping a hole in the black fabric with a harsh rip.

I was shocked—such terrifying physical strength! A casual chop could shred the black cloak’s shoulder; clearly, his hand was deadlier than any blade.

Ghost-face Zhang snorted coldly, “Girl, do you think you can escape so easily from here?”