Chapter Fifteen: Grilled Meat Over Electric Coals

Sun Licheng had run several hundred meters when suddenly, his eyes lit up.

Before him was a massive cavern, nearly a thousand square meters in size, with several stalactites standing upright in the center like stone pillars.

Embedded in the cavern walls were countless luminous blue crystals, filling the space with an air of mystery.

“Damn, this place looks just like the Parthenon Temple. Could it really have formed naturally?” Sun Licheng couldn’t help but exclaim in awe.

He stepped inside cautiously. The ground beneath his feet was remarkably smooth, and patterns seemed to be carved into its surface. Upon closer inspection, Sun Licheng realized the entire floor was a gigantic magic circle.

On the far side of the magic circle stood two stone doors. Clearly, these were not naturally formed—they were ancient and meticulously crafted, adorned with enigmatic carvings.

Sun Licheng could feel that the thing which had drawn him here lay just beyond those stone doors. Ignoring the warnings in his heart, he strode forward.

He had barely taken two steps when the ground sank beneath his foot. Instantly, a light flashed at the spot, and a column rose slowly from the earth, shaped much like a stalagmite: wide at the base and narrow at the top, its dark surface exuding an eerie allure under the cavern’s blue glow.

Instinctively, Sun Licheng reached out and traced the patterns on the column with his right hand. To his surprise, the stone began to radiate a white light, and from beyond the stone doors came a deep rumbling sound.

Tension rose in Sun Licheng as he turned toward the doors. They were opening, revealing only darkness beyond—a darkness that seemed to conceal great danger.

Just as he hesitated, unsure whether to step through, a thunderous crash, laced with a foul stench, erupted behind him.

Sun Licheng spun around, and his heart nearly leapt from his chest in terror. The scorpion-tailed lion had caught up to him. Its massive paws shook the ground, filling the cave with thunderous echoes and clouds of dust.

…

The lion was furious, feeling utterly humiliated.

It had been in these underground depths for ages, surviving countless perilous battles and biting to death innumerable foes, eventually becoming the undisputed king of its domain.

One day, while exploring, a voice appeared in its mind, tempting it to investigate the space beyond the stone doors. Just as it was about to step into the magic array, a giant lizard leapt out, rushing in before it. The next moment, the lizard triggered a trap—lightning sprayed everywhere, blinding the lion’s eyes. When the chaos subsided, the giant lizard was gone.

Though it never found the right way to enter, the lion guarded this place, patrolling daily and eliminating any who dared approach.

It never expected that Sun Licheng—who should have been long dead—would survive, sneak past while the lion was locked in battle with Medusa, and make straight for the stone doors.

Worse yet, distracted by observing Sun Licheng, the lion had let its guard down, and Medusa managed to wound its left wing—a wound more severe than anything it had previously suffered.

Though the Medusa soon paid the price, losing half her head to a swipe of the lion’s claws, the lion’s left wing was left crippled.

The lion blamed Sun Licheng for all of this. As soon as it was done with Medusa, it chased after him, ignoring its pain.

It was shocked to discover that Sun Licheng had activated the magic array’s mechanism.

The lion’s eyes grew even angrier, their red glow seeming almost to burn with fire.

Sun Licheng had believed the elegant and heroic Medusa would teach the lion a lesson, or at the very least, fight it for three days and nights. Unexpectedly, she turned out to be all show, and was quickly defeated—her twin blades wasted.

“Medusa, you’ve betrayed the people’s trust!” he cried, before running into the magic array.

Consumed by rage, the lion forgot all caution and chased after him.

Instantly, the magic array blazed with white light as the stone pillar slowly receded into the ground. Lightning erupted, crackling as it struck.

Sun Licheng barely had time to curse before the lightning engulfed him.

The cave was lit up as if it were broad daylight; thunder shook the entire place as if it would collapse.

Sun Licheng and the lion, one a goblin and the other a beast, both shuddered violently as the lightning overwhelmed them. Steam poured from their mouths as they were roasted inside out. Strangely, the lion’s scorpion tail became completely transparent.

A muffled explosion echoed as Sun Licheng’s backpack combusted. The magical beast bones inside were instantly incinerated.

The lightning lasted a full twenty minutes before finally dying away. When the blinding light faded, the two charred bodies collapsed onto the ground, still sizzling with static electricity.

They were unrecognizable, blackened and emitting the scent of roast meat.

At that moment, a powerful suction pulled both bodies toward the stone doors, which then closed quietly behind them.

…

In agony, Sun Licheng opened his eyes.

“Why is it always this bad? Damn it, God, can’t you give me some luck for once?” he complained, noticing that his legs had vanished.

Immortality is supposed to be a protagonist’s greatest asset, but for Sun Licheng, it now felt like a curse.

On Earth, even the most brutal ancient tortures paled in comparison to the suffering he had endured since his rebirth—constantly escalating, becoming ever more intense.

“It used to be just little cuts; now it’s electric roasting. Can’t you make it easier on me next time?” he grumbled.

He propped himself up with his hands and looked around. The walls were studded with luminous stones, making the pit dazzlingly bright.

He found himself in a pit over a hundred square meters wide, surrounded by more than twenty corpses. Aside from himself and the lion, the rest were two-headed wolves, each over one and a half meters tall.

Some of the wolves still had green, poisonous flesh clinging to their fangs—evidence that many had fallen to his venom.

It struck him as a dark kind of humor that all the beasts who tried to eat him ended up as his food.

Among the corpses, he noticed some old, weathered bones scattered about. Wolves are known to devour even the bones, so these must have been here for a long time.

Just then, the tantalizing scent of roast meat caught his attention.

The formidable lion had been roasted to perfection. The two-headed wolves tore away the scorched flesh, revealing golden meat that looked delicious enough to make your mouth water.

Though the lion had always been his arch-enemy, eating its flesh felt like poetic justice.

Despite its ugliness, the lion’s meat was delicious, its energy surpassing even the eagle that once caught him on the snowy mountains. Such magical beasts must have magical crystals.

Sure enough, he soon found a blue crystal in the lion’s skull, more beautiful and mysterious than any he’d seen before.

He ate one of the two-headed wolves, noticing that their flesh was tough and unpleasant, filled with a taste of death.

The crystals within their skulls were black and filled with darkness, though their size was comparable to the blue crystal he’d found in the lion.

“These two-headed wolves are strong,” he thought, marveling at their power.

But, as always, no matter how formidable the enemy, Sun Licheng always came out on top—even against the scorpion-tailed lion.

Suddenly, a heavy thud sounded from his right, making him tense with unease.