When the crisis occurred, Meng Qianzi had descended about two hundred meters by rope, reaching the edge of the black bat colony.

People with trypophobia probably couldn’t bear this sight: it was overwhelming, densely packed. At first glance, it looked like countless large black folded umbrellas hanging on the mountain wall, interspersed with innumerable pointed rodent faces. Occasional group movements resembled wind sweeping across water, waves of fur rippling.

Moreover, these creatures had long lived in dark, damp environments and frequently consumed decaying flesh, emanating an extremely nauseating smell. Such a large cluster gathered together—the destructive power of the odor was imaginable. Even though Meng Qianzi had put on a filter mask in advance, she was still nearly nauseated to the point of vomiting.

She turned her head away to spare her eyes from this torment, while reaching for the brake handle of her descender, wanting to accelerate and leave this area as soon as possible.

At that moment, she heard a “poof” sound and instinctively turned her head back.

This scene would truly be unforgettable for a lifetime.

She saw that in the dense black bat colony near her, an area almost half the size of a wall began to stir violently. The sensation resembled a sudden whirlpool appearing on a water surface. Before she could see clearly, a fire dragon erupted, as if it had been gestating deep in the cliff’s belly and now violently broke through.

It wasn’t a dragon but tens of thousands of black bats on fire.

A blindingly bright lightning flashed through Meng Qianzi’s mind: there was a cave!

No one had ever discovered it before; even Old Lady Duan had missed it years ago. The bats did live in a cave, but there were so many that they hung densely outside as well, completely blocking the entrance.

In an instant, it was like being in a fiery purgatory, with rolling fire clouds covering overhead. Imagine the scene: tens of thousands of burning bats emerging from their nest, shrieking in pain, crashing wildly in all directions, like frenzied demons.

At this point, even the “Beast Avoidance” charm was useless. The spell was meant to command mountain beasts with clear minds—or rather, normal ones. These bats were suffering the torture of fire, in unbearable pain. How could they care about avoiding anyone?

Many bats simply crashed into the cliff wall to their deaths, then fell into the abyss with clusters of flames. More danced wildly in the air, constantly colliding with her body and the rope. The midair seemed like rainfall, with large drops of oil fire falling continuously. The air was filled with an unbearable charred stench, and the terrifying sound of skin and flesh sizzling as they burned.

Meng Qianzi dodged left and right, barely controlling the rope. Despite her efforts, small flames had ignited in multiple places on her clothes, and her hair had become dry from the heat. She continuously patted herself while looking up.

The rope already had multiple ignition points, not just hers—several nearby ropes had caught fire too. Two had substantial flames already climbing upward, like slender fire lines hanging in midair.

Compared to ordinary ropes, static ropes were more fire-resistant. It would be difficult to ignite them with just a lighter, but if you doused them with oil and set them afire, they would burn and break just the same—the term “fire-resistant” would be utterly useless.

The fierce fire on the ropes had only one explanation.

Oil!

Black bats couldn’t possibly burn like that on their own. Someone had doused them with oil. In their extreme pain, they rushed out, becoming thousands of dancing, oil-burning bombs in the air. Additionally, as their bodies burned, they released more oil, continuously dripping oil fire, igniting whatever they touched, spreading everywhere with no escape. No matter how skilled you are, could you walk in heavy rain without any rain gear and guarantee staying completely dry?

Who the hell did this?

A name vaguely surfaced in Meng Qianzi’s mind as she looked toward the cave entrance.

The bats inside seemed to have all flown out. Only a few fortunate ones that hadn’t caught fire remained at the entrance, clearly startled, flying chaotically up and down. Among the chaotic black silhouettes, a woman’s face appeared.

Bai Shuixiao.

Bai Shuixiao wasn’t very far from her, close enough that her smile was visible—a smile that was exceptionally satisfying and utterly detestable.

Damn it. Meng Qianzi ignored the raining fire. She had a dagger strapped to her outer calf. At this distance, she could easily throw it. Whether it cost a life or not, she would deal with this woman first…

Just as she thought this, a nearby rope went limp and fell like a dead snake—it had burned through. Simultaneously, she felt her rope sag slightly, instantly chilling her heart. Experts knew what this meant: a break had occurred in the rope above. This rope would not only fail to support her descent, but it could barely support her weight.

At this critical moment, survival was paramount. She didn’t have time to draw her dagger. Spotting a nearby protrusion on the cliff wall, she gritted her teeth and lunged for it.

The cliff was covered with moss, making it slippery to grasp. Her feet weren’t steady either, causing several small stones to fall loose with her step. Fortunately, free climbing had been a skill ingrained since childhood. Though her body swayed, she stabilized herself. However, this position forced her arms and calves to bear her entire body weight, making movement difficult and certainly slowing her down. She had already descended over two hundred meters—now, whether climbing up or down, neither would be easy.

Moreover, the fire rain continued to fall, burning bats still crashed into her blindly, and Bai Shuixiao would certainly not give up—her silhouette had disappeared, who knew what she went to retrieve.

Regardless, she’d better get as far away from this woman as possible.

Meng Qianzi gritted her teeth, preparing to move sideways. Just as she shifted her foot, a loud “whoosh” sounded nearby. Through the billowing fire clouds and black smoke above, a person rapidly descended.

It was Jiang Lian.

The moment Jiang Lian saw the fire below the cliff, he quickly calculated.

Meng Qianzi was already over two hundred meters down. With a descender rope system, the standard maximum speed was 2 meters per second, meaning it would take over one and a half minutes to reach her. The extreme speed was 3 meters per second, which could get him there in about a minute. This speed already risked burning the rope, but like some food products with a three-year shelf life that last three and a half years, the standard was set for safety assurance, meaning he could go a bit faster.

In an emergency, arriving twenty seconds, ten seconds, or even five seconds earlier could make a world of difference.

So he grabbed a bottle of mineral water and descended, moving at beyond extreme speed, continuously using water to physically cool the descender.

Fortunately, he and Shen Gun had been positioned by Meng Jinsong at the most remote anchor points. Their ropes were farthest from the center of the fire, suffering the least damage, while the ropes near the center either burned through and fell, or had flames climbing upward, forcing those above to cut the ropes with knives.

When passing through that group of fire bats, he smelled burning oil and guessed someone was behind this. When he finally broke through the disturbed fire cloud, one glance was enough to understand the situation clearly.

Meng Qianzi was about ten meters away from him. Her descent rope had already burned through, with small oil flame droplets on her clothes. She was desperately clinging to a protruding part of the cliff wall with both hands and feet. Not far behind her was a cave with countless bats flying chaotically at its entrance. Bai Shuixiao stood there, forcefully lifting a backpack basket. It looked like she was about to pour something toward Meng Qianzi, but Meng Qianzi’s attention was completely drawn in his direction, unaware of what was happening behind her.

Local people’s basket-weaving skills were extremely high, making baskets completely watertight. So these baskets weren’t just for carrying things—they could hold water or any liquid.

Bai Shuixiao was certainly not kind enough to pour water to extinguish the fire.

Jiang Lian shouted: “Meng Qianzi, jump over here quickly!”

Damn it—they were at least ten meters apart. Even a monkey couldn’t jump that far. Meng Qianzi shouted back: “How can I jump?!”

Seeing Bai Shuixiao raising her hand to pour, Jiang Lian said sternly: “If you don’t jump, you won’t survive!”

Meng Qianzi saw that his expression and gaze were different, and she vaguely guessed something was wrong behind her. Her palms sweating, she steeled herself and prepared to jump. Suddenly, she heard an “AHHHHHH!” growing louder, followed by someone kicking and grabbing wildly, spinning non-stop, crashing through the fire cloud like a sack, and plummeting downward.

This was Shen Gun.

His story was pitiful. He had descended after those eight mountain folk. Normally, during rope descent, one must control the descender: when locked, it stops sliding; slightly released, it allows controlled descent; fully open, it’s a straight drop down.

Shen Gun’s descender wasn’t locked at all.

Thus, though starting later, he arrived first, instantly overtaking those mountain folk. They didn’t understand the situation and, seeing his momentum so fierce, couldn’t help but secretly admire him: how bold!

This fall knocked all the recently learned, not-yet-familiar SRT techniques out of Shen Gun’s head. Only one thing circled in his mind: what Little Jiang said—descent speed over 3 meters per second would burn the rope.

Combined with the dancing fire shadows below and the smoke obscuring vision, he thought the rope was already ablaze, scaring his soul out of his body. In his panicked grabbing, he pressed whatever his hands touched. At one moment, he pressed the right thing, instantly stopping his descent.

Thank heaven and earth!

Shen Gun trembled like a sifter. Instinctively raising his hand to wipe sweat, he made another mistake: this wasn’t a switch that stayed on once pressed. The lock wasn’t secured, and as soon as he released pressure, it set him free again.

What Meng Qianzi and Jiang Lian witnessed was Shen Gun’s second fall.

Let him fall—at such a time, they could barely take care of themselves, let alone others. Besides, with his momentum so fierce, they wanted to help but lacked the means.

However, his second fall wasn’t without benefit: Bai Shuixiao was momentarily stunned, pausing her pour.

Jiang Lian saw clearly, knowing the opportunity would vanish instantly. He shouted: “Now, jump!”

Before his voice faded, his right foot pushed forcefully against the cliff wall at an angle, his body driving the long rope, swinging directly toward Meng Qianzi.

Life and death were in fate’s hands now. Meng Qianzi hesitated no more. Gauging Jiang Lian’s trajectory, she pushed off with all her strength, her body flying out.

At the same time, the fire oil from Bai Shuixiao’s water basket also shot out like a dragon. Remember, the air was full of fire bats, and oil explodes upon contact with fire. An oil wave spread across midair, instantly becoming a surging fire bridge, like a giant fanged mouth, biting and engulfing the spot where Meng Qianzi had been just seconds ago, bursting into fierce flames.

Meng Qianzi felt the heat wave from behind but ignored it. Even if she caught fire, she couldn’t worry about that now. She fixed her gaze on Jiang Lian’s approaching position. As they were about to cross paths, her heart sank as if plunged into ice water.

Jiang Lian’s swing was a pendulum motion, meaning his trajectory arced upward. But Meng Qianzi’s leap would ultimately follow a downward parabola. One moving up, one moving down—there would be a gap between them. When Meng Qianzi jumped, she had considered this and tried to leap as high as possible, but she hadn’t expected to still be short by the length of a forearm.

Jiang Lian saw this too, but fortunately, the situation wasn’t beyond remedy. Gauging the position, he forcefully twisted his waist and hips, suddenly flipping his body upside down, extending his arms to their full length, and grabbed Meng Qianzi’s wrist.

From Meng Qianzi feeling hopeless to her wrist being firmly grasped took less than half a second. Her emotions hadn’t even adjusted when her body, together with Jiang Lian, continued swinging urgently toward one side, actually bringing them closer to Bai Shuixiao.

Bai Shuixiao hadn’t expected to witness such an aerial human-catching-human scene, nearly grinding her teeth in anger. Suddenly seeing the two swing near, in her panic, she reached out to grab them. At their closest, Meng Qianzi could almost see the horrifying wound on her face where beast claws had torn the flesh—but they remained a forearm’s length apart. As their swing’s momentum ended, they instantly reversed direction, accelerating back toward the other side.

However, things were far from optimistic. They needed to get as far away from Bai Shuixiao as possible. If they swung back again and got doused with another bucket of oil, all their efforts would be wasted.

Jiang Lian instructed Meng Qianzi: “I need my hands. Grab my neck, quickly.”

As he spoke, he released one hand.

Meng Qianzi’s body was swinging, with only the sound of rushing wind in her ears, constantly being hit by bats. Especially at her wound, each collision caused pain that made her body twitch. But knowing life and death hung in the balance, she uttered an acknowledgment, grabbed Jiang Lian’s arm, and climbed up. When she finally embraced his neck, Jiang Lian’s palm explored down her back, tightly holding her waist. With a muffled grunt, he used his waist and legs to lift her body, forcefully twisting his inverted body back to normal.

By now, they had almost reached the end of their swing on this side.

Jiang Lian held Meng Qianzi with one arm while stretching the other as far as possible, trying to grab the cliff wall. He cursed that his arm wasn’t long enough, always falling short. When he finally made contact, the pendulum’s momentum was too strong. Jiang Lian gritted his teeth and crashed his back against the cliff wall, gripping tightly with his hand, his back scraping as they dragged for five or six meters. Finally, through the friction of his flesh and blood, he stopped the rope’s momentum, stabilizing them both.

This position was a good thirty meters from Bai Shuixiao, with protruding cliff rocks in between. For now, they needn’t fear her.

From extreme motion to stillness in a moment—it felt like a lifetime had passed. The extreme danger just now wasn’t felt at the time, but thinking about it now, they couldn’t help but feel a lingering fear. Both were breathing heavily. For a moment, they heard nothing but rapid panting and their hearts pounding as if about to burst.

Jiang Lian retracted his hand from the cliff wall, discovering the skin on his palm was almost completely abraded. His back felt scalding hot. The clothes were torn, but he didn’t know the extent of his injuries. He just hoped the bones weren’t exposed.

He lowered his head to ask how Meng Qianzi was doing, and happened to see her hand tightly gripping his shoulder blade.

She gripped very tightly, her slender fingers almost sinking into his shoulder muscle. Her knuckles were slightly white, her arm trembling slightly, showing she hadn’t yet recovered.

Jiang Lian decided not to disturb her first, raising his head to survey their surroundings.

Fire, fire again.

He pressed his lips together, his eyes growing slightly dim. Throughout his life, memories of fire had never pleased him.