FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 121: Chapter 121: Am I Going To die?

Suddenly he noticed an odd-looking shadow in front of him, he could swear that it wasn’t here before, he immediately raised his vigilance, his heart thumping a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Ten seconds passed. Nothing moved.

He slowly crept closer and found that it was just a dead tree stump…jagged, dark, covered in black lichen, about waist-high. It smelled of nothing but dry wood. A common, boring sight in a forest of wonders.

“Damn! It seems I’m a bit too paranoid,” he muttered, letting out a shaky, wet breath. “It’s just a wood, a fucking wood.”

He moved to step around it, his eyes already scanning the brush ahead for the next threat.

CLICK.

But that was a mistake, a very big mistake. As he was just looking for monsters; not expecting the scenery to bite him.

When he was just about to pass it, the stump suddenly opened its eyes.

Two tiny, glowing red pinpricks flared in the darkness, burning with a cold, hateful intelligence.

“What the—?”

SWISH.

The stump suddenly exploded. It wasn’t a damn wood. It was fucking scales… pitch-black and void-like.

Sol didn’t have time to scream. He threw himself backward instinctively, fueled by pure panic, but he was a fraction of a second too slow.

WHAM.

Whatever the heck, this creature was, it didn’t bite; it slammed. Its heavy, muscular head hit against his chest like a battering ram.

“Guh—!”

The air left his lungs with a wet whoosh. He flew backward, feet leaving the mud.

CRUNCH.

His back collided with a massive tree trunk. His vision went white for a second, and his spear flew from his numb fingers, clattering into the thorny bushes, completely out of reach.

“Aagh… haaah!”

Sol slid down the trunk, clutching his chest, wheezing desperately for air that wouldn’t come. He scrambled to his knees, coughing up phlegm, his eyes watering.

But it wasn’t the time for this, his senses were screaming warnings, he hurriedly looked up and found that it was a massive cobra with scales like dead bark, it Cobra towered over him, rearing up five feet in the air. It didn’t hiss or rattle like a normal cobra, heck, It made absolutely no sound. It just swayed slightly, blending perfectly into the shadows, those red eyes locked onto him.

“I… I checked…” Sol wheezed, blood drooling from his lip. If before he had doubt, no he could officially confirm that he really had some cursed serpent attracting physique, as this couldn’t be counted as coincidence anymore, it was third time, a fucking…. third time he was attracted by a snake.

He really wanted to cry out and curse the heaven for injustice, but it didn’t even give him time to think, as it lunged forward.

“Shit!”

Sol’s mind raced. The energy! Use the energy!

Sol’s hand twitched toward his chest, ready to summon the Ash Gray energy, to scream a command of SUBMIT into the beast’s mind.

But he stopped.

A thought, cold and arrogant, flashed through his mind. If I rely on the energy for everything, I’m just a mage with a mana bar. What happens when it runs dry? What happens when I meet something I can’t dominate?

He flexed his hands. He felt the raw, inexplicable strength coursing through his muscles… the result of his strange, vitality-absorbing physique.

“No, I’m here to test myself.” Sol breathed, a feral grin touching his lips. “Not this time. Let’s see what this body can really do.”

“Come on,” he challenged.

The Cobra just looked at him with red eyes, it didn’t hiss. It didn’t posture. It simply vanished.

It was there, and then it was a blur of shadow.

Suddenly feeling something, he used all his might and rolled to the left, diving face-first into the muck.

CLACK.

The fangs snapped shut inches from his ear… a sound like a bear trap closing.

Now that there was some distance between them, he used this chance and hurriedly scrambled to his feet, slipping a few times in the wet roots, due to intense panic.

My spear. Where is my spear?

He looked around frantically, but the gloom hid everything. And found nothing but wet roots.

Seeing the cobra disappearing again, he looked around, panic flaring. “Where is it?”

He looked around. The jungle was dim, full of shadows, and the cobra was a shadow. Its scales absorbed the faint bioluminescence, creating a void in the air. He couldn’t track it.

Mistake one, Sol realized, his heart hammering. Don’t engage a stealth killer in the dark.

He looked around desperately, trying to find some clue.

When suddenly, a sharp, searing line of fire erupted across his back. He stumbled forward, gritting his teeth. It had struck him from behind, silent as a ghost.

He rolled, coming up in a crouch, his back to a tree. He touched his back. Wet blood. But even as the pain registered, he felt something else… a strange, itching heat. The wound was already closing. The pain was fading into a dull throb within seconds.

“Okay,” Sol panted, adrenaline sharpening his focus. “It seems I can take a hit or two. Good to know.”

He scanned the darkness. There. Two red dots, hovering in the air five feet away.

It seemed to be mocking him, as if playing with a prey.

“You bastard!”

He became even more angry, and lunged forward, trying to punch it with all his might.

The cobra didn’t dodge. It weaved. Its upper body moved with a fluid, liquid grace, letting the punch pass harmlessly by its neck. Then, it snapped forward.

Sol saw the open maw, the white fangs against the black void, but he couldn’t pull back in time.

The cobra slammed into him, with its immense weight. It still didn’t bite, instead it slowly coiled around him. In a blink, thick, muscular loops wrapped around his waist and legs, slamming him into the dirt.

The air was squeezed out of his lungs with a brutal whoosh.

“Get off!” he roared, kicking out with his free leg.

THUD.

His heel connected with the snake’s body. It felt like kicking a tire. The snake didn’t even flinch. It continued to coil up his leg, heavy loops tightening around his calf.

“Aaaagh! My leg!”

The pressure was excruciating. He felt his shin bones bowing, threatening to snap under the constriction.

“Get off!” Sol roared, punching the black scales. “Get off me!”

It was useless. The Cobra was winding around him, pinning his legs together, moving up toward his waist.

The snake’s head rose above him, blocking out the canopy. It looked down at him with those dead, red eyes. The red eyes staring down dispassionately. It was preparing to swallow him, or perhaps just crush him until his ribs snapped. Its jaws unhinged, revealing a mouth white as bone and fangs longer than his fingers.

Sol flailed, punching its body with all his might. But it barely flinched, and increased the pressure further. His vision began to spot with white lights. His ribs groaned under the strain.

I’m going to die, Sol thought, the reality crashing down on him. I got too cocky. I thought I was a hunter, but I’m just prey.

The cobra drew its head back, opening its jaws wide to deliver the finishing bite to his face.

Time seemed to slow.

Sol looked at those fangs. He looked at the red eyes.

I was careful, he thought, the realization cold and heavy. I did everything right. And I’m still going to die in the mud.

And the fear vanished, replaced by a cold, reptilian rage. No. I didn’t transmigrate to die like a rat.