“The small one crossed the bridge. Looks like Cyclops failed to stop her.”

A shadow lay concealed in a side passage, waiting for its moment. On hearing its partner’s update, it let out a dismissive snort. “Cyclops was always too clever for its own good. Getting killed is what it deserved — schemes that thin fall apart the moment anyone sees through them. The mirror corridor was never a guaranteed kill anyway. In this Hall, the real danger is anyone working alone. Stay sharp. When the small one comes through here, I’ll lure her into the Death Chamber. The moment I come back out, you pull the mechanism.”

The other one nodded. “Clear. We’ve run this play over a hundred times. No problems.”

The Death Reaper Mantis came drifting forward.

The shadow in the darkness lunged — a hideous gaping mouth spraying a jet of dark-green venom. Anything the liquid touched began smoking and corroding immediately.

The ambush failed. She had been moving carefully enough to dodge it easily.

“Ball!”

Thrown off by the miss, the Death Reaper Mantis released an energy ball. In its faint light she caught a glimpse of a lean, elongated shadow slipping into a side passage.

She didn’t know what mechanism had been triggered, but one of the boxes at the bridgehead shifted, and the bridge segment behind her retracted rapidly. So there was a control mechanism on this side too — she needed to secure it, or getting back would be impossible. A quick assessment, and she gave chase, following the lean shadow into the passage.

About a minute later, movement sounds came again — the retracted bridge extending back along its rails, reconnecting.

The one waiting outside nearly crowed with delight.

As soon as the Death Chamber’s mechanisms reset, the door could be sealed. Once it was sealed, anything inside would fall into the death trap. No exceptions.

It sprinted to the door-sealing control lever and waited anxiously for its partner to emerge. Standard procedure: partner exits within ten seconds of the bridge mechanism resetting, target comes out a few seconds later at most, and gets locked inside.

One pull of the lever — Toad King’s commission completed.

Ten, nine, eight…

Usually the partner was out by seven or eight. Today it was running a little slow.

The outside guardian was growing anxious.

A lean silhouette appeared at the door.

Recognizing its partner, it yanked the control lever down with all its strength. The Death Chamber’s door slammed shut instantly. The internal death mechanisms activated — anything remaining inside would be reduced to ash, bones and all, in the inferno that followed.

With its partner safely out, the door guardian exhaled and turned on its ally with mild irritation. “I’m telling you, Withered Serpent — can you at least be a little more careful? I nearly thought the whole thing had failed.”

Withered Serpent the luring snake laughed. “Relax. I’m a seasoned professional. That little one was being too cautious, so I had to draw her deeper. The timing was perfectly under control.”

“Just don’t cut it that close next time.” The outside guardian was still dissatisfied.

“Fine, fine, Big-Eyed Ape — stop complaining. I’ll give you one more magical core from my share. You get eleven, I get nineteen. Fair enough?” Withered Serpent flicked its forked tongue, sampling the residual scents in the air. “No other signatures out there. Surroundings clean. The plan was a complete success. Let’s go dig out some remains for Toad King — hoping the little one left at least a few bone fragments so Toad King can’t claim we’re lying. Speaking of which, how did Cyclops fall for the promise of a hundred magical cores? Even thirty cores from Toad King would be the most generous thing it’s ever done in its entire existence.”

“You’re sure there’s no one out there? Shouldn’t we wait a moment? What if that little creature is particularly durable and hasn’t died yet?” the other one asked uneasily.

“Stop worrying. Nothing alive has ever survived the Death Chamber’s first ten seconds. Even Toad King going in there for a few seconds would come out a dead toad — lucky it’s too clever to ever set foot inside, or I’d have sent it on its way years ago.” Withered Serpent gave a low chuckle and used the control lever to open the Death Chamber door.

A smell of charred flesh wafted out.

The two exchanged a satisfied look. This was the smell that always followed their successful operations. Its absence would have been the strange thing.

Withered Serpent took a slow, appreciative sniff. “Authentic incineration aroma. My absolute favorite.”

The bridge re-extended itself to sealed — no more challengers could enter, no one to interrupt them. Without any remaining concerns, the two walked into the Death Chamber side by side. Their partnership was built on mutual trust. They alternated who played the dangerous luring role, with the one taking the risk getting a larger share, and both were required to be present for the collection afterward — insurance against anyone secretly triggering the mechanism to eliminate the other and take everything.

Because of this arrangement, despite being far from the most powerful beasts in the valley, Withered Serpent and Big-Eyed Ape had together eliminated nearly a hundred opponents using this exact setup.

Big-Eyed Ape carried an old, grimy remains sack.

They needed evidence to bring back and verify the kill — and more importantly, the Death Chamber had to be thoroughly cleared of any remains before the next target could be lured in. Left scattered bones would make any creature suspicious.

“Strange — there are no remains. Was everything incinerated?” Big-Eyed Ape searched for a while and found nothing.

“Nothing strange about it. The creature was tiny — bones and all, full incineration is entirely possible. The flame storm inside might have blown whatever was left into some corner. Remember that time with the two mammoths? Even their remains were sent a thousand meters off by the storm. Keep looking — and if there’s really nothing, let it go.” Withered Serpent wasn’t concerned. It had watched personally. The small creature had been directly behind it when the door sealed — she hadn’t made it out.

RUMBLE.

A familiar sound echoed from somewhere ahead.

The two exchanged a puzzled look.

Bridge reconnecting?

Bad. If the bridge reconnected, the control lever outside the Death Chamber could be pulled again. If someone pulled it—

They abandoned the search entirely and ran.

When they reached the bridge control lever inside the Death Chamber, the Death Reaper Mantis was standing there smiling — looking for all the world like she was greeting old friends, waving cheerfully, as though to say “long time no see” or perhaps “you should have been faster.”

“Stop her!” Both of them understood immediately what it meant that she had pulled the bridge control lever.

If she made it outside and pulled the door control lever—

Everything still inside would be reduced to ash.

Both threw everything they had at the Death Reaper Mantis — their most lethal, most desperate attacks —

And hit nothing.

An afterimage. Her real body had reappeared three thousand meters away, right outside the Death Chamber’s door. If not for the faint glow of the energy ball she held, neither of them would have even located her. Both Withered Serpent and Big-Eyed Ape experienced pure, bone-deep terror —

They had never once imagined the Death Chamber door might one day become the gate of their own destruction.

They sprinted with everything they had.

Big-Eyed Ape was slightly slower and panicked. It grabbed Withered Serpent’s tail, hoping to gain even a fraction of a second — any tiny advantage mattered now.

Withered Serpent was furious. Already desperate to accelerate, now this added weight was dragging it back. Without hesitation, it whipped its tail hard and sent Big-Eyed Ape crashing into the floor — using the recoil to boost itself forward at even higher speed.

Three more seconds and it would be out.

Three. Two.

A hundred meters from the door — the Death Chamber’s door slid shut in the Death Reaper Mantis’s smiling, farewell-waving hands.

One second too late. One door’s thickness away. And yet it was the difference between heaven and earth.

Between life and death.

The flame storm ignited, sweeping through the entire Death Chamber.

“No — NO!”

Withered Serpent and Big-Eyed Ape — who had used this very trap to murder nearly a hundred war beasts — screamed as the flames consumed them.

At the control lever outside, a flea-sized magical beast grinned with its ugly little mouth, its tiny eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a vendetta fulfilled.

“The task Poison Wasp King entrusted to me has been completed. Thanks to your trust and cooperation, my great revenge has been settled — Withered Serpent and Big-Eyed Ape, my two greatest enemies, are now ash. This one humbly takes his leave, and wishes you continued success!” The flea made a proper, respectful bow toward the Death Reaper Mantis, then hopped and bounced across the bridge and out of the Spirit Beast Hall at remarkable speed.

“Good work!” The Death Reaper Mantis waved it off fondly, then clenched her small fist with determination, turned, and pressed forward toward the second and third levels.

She was going to claim the highest-tier token available — and without any more help. But for a clever mind, enemies sometimes made the best allies. The help from an enemy was no less valuable than the help from a friend.

Keep going. You can do this.

In her newly human form, the Death Reaper Mantis pressed her tiny fist tight with quiet resolve, face set with determination, and flew on toward the next level. The trials ahead were difficult, the mechanisms dangerous — but none of it frightened her. If anything, this dangerous Spirit Beast Hall was one of the finest places she could be training.