Chapter 102: The Voice of Temptation

The marsh stretched wide before them, a vast expanse of gray, murky mud in which faint traces of human and beast bones could be seen, suggesting many had perished here. Among the sludge grew a variety of grotesque, bizarre plants, their branches adorned with sharp thorns that swayed aimlessly in every direction, evoking a chilling sense of dread.

Around the edges of the swamp stood a few towering trees, their upper branches dipping into the mire, disappearing in the blink of an eye as if a devouring demon lurked beneath the surface. A foul stench wafted relentlessly from the swamp, causing the water mage Avra and the elven woman Nia to wrinkle their noses and cover their mouths, visibly struggling to endure the nauseating odor.

As all eyes turned toward the swamp, Tranks began to explain, “The plants growing within are extremely dangerous. The swamp consumes all who venture inside. The putrid smell from its depths contains a slow-acting poison that weakens the body. The Medusa lurking here moves freely beneath the muck, making it a formidable adversary.”

Han Shuo’s gaze darkened as he surveyed the vast marshland. After hearing Tranks’s explanation, his brow furrowed deeply, his mind already racing with strategies.

“We lack the ability to fly. Once we set foot in the swamp, we’d be trapped, unable to escape. From what you say, the Medusa’s habitat allows it to move unseen beneath the mud, giving it a huge advantage. Engaging it within the swamp will be exceedingly difficult,” Han Shuo pondered aloud.

Tranks glanced at Han Shuo and replied, “Within the swamp, the Medusa’s strength is greatly amplified. Even the Scorpion Lion, another level-one magical beast, is powerless against it there. Since we cannot take to the air, we cannot inflict significant harm. However, if the Medusa leaves the swamp, we can easily defeat it together. But from my understanding, it will never leave its domain lightly.”

“What attracts the Medusa?” Han Shuo inquired.

Shaking his head, Tranks said, “I don’t know. The Medusa can emit a beautiful, haunting sound that lures humans and beasts alike. Whenever prey approaches the swamp, it strikes suddenly, dragging them into the mire. It’s never worried about food. Beyond that, I don’t know what it desires.”

After a contemplative pause, Han Shuo smiled faintly. “In that case, we must resort to the simplest tactic. We’ll wait here; once the Medusa uses its voice to lure prey, we strike and kill them. After several such failures, the Medusa will grow hungry and be forced to leave the swamp in search of food. That’s when we’ll attack and kill it.”

“Though crude, that’s our only option. Once the Medusa leaves the swamp, the Scorpion Lion and I won’t fear it. With your help, it won’t escape death,” Tranks agreed.

“Very well, let’s set up our defenses,” Han Shuo ordered.

Traps and simple barriers were placed along the swamp’s edges. Only after commencing did they realize the enormity of the task—the marsh was vast, and securing its entire perimeter was no easy feat. Exhausted, they labored for a full day and a half before completing their preparations.

After resting overnight, the next day, the group, ears plugged, stationed themselves in all directions. Though eight people plus the Scorpion Lion spread out, the swamp’s breadth made coverage difficult. Han Shuo released his three elemental spirits, which patrolled the perimeter, keeping vigilant watch.

On the first day, they waited intently but saw no sign of the Medusa hunting. According to Tranks, one hunt sufficed to sustain the creature for ten days, but they had no way of knowing when its last meal had been.

The second day passed similarly. It wasn’t until the third evening that Han Shuo’s elemental spirits detected a swelling patch of mud at the swamp’s center, revealing the Medusa’s form.

True to its name, the Medusa’s hair was alive—each strand a writhing snake extending like tentacles in all directions. Its face was that of a stunningly beautiful woman, with delicate brows and cherry lips, though the sight of its sharp fangs shattered the illusion. Its lower body was serpentine, covered in thick, ugly dark brown skin, a grotesque contrast to its alluring visage.

With a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth agape, the Medusa emitted sorrowful, enchanting calls. Despite their earplugs, Han Shuo and his companions faintly heard the delicate yet mournful sounds, which sent a shiver through their hearts, filling them with a mysterious, irresistible urge to investigate.

Fortunately, having heard Tranks’s repeated warnings, they resisted the temptation, staying firmly at their posts, eyes scanning the surroundings for any movement.

Gradually, the once-still edges of the swamp came alive. Small magical beasts, drawn by the alluring voices, approached with lively steps. Farther off, larger creatures began to draw near.

Han Shuo and Tranks exchanged a glance but held back from using their prepared traps. These newly arrived beasts were not yet formidable enough to warrant such measures. Moving cautiously, they and the others stealthily bypassed the traps and struck mercilessly, hunting down the small beasts.

Tranks’s injuries appeared well-healed, and his speed was unmatched among them. He moved like a deadly predator through the brush, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. In short order, he had eliminated the first wave of attackers.

With the aid of the Death-Reaping Blade, Han Shuo’s pace was slower than Tranks’s but still faster than the others. The blade spun like a grim harvester of souls, effortlessly dispatching level-five and six beasts.

Having cleared their respective zones, Han Shuo and Tranks moved to assist the others, systematically eliminating about twenty approaching small beasts. These low-level creatures were of little value; Han Shuo did not bother collecting loot from them.

During a brief lull, Han Shuo removed the cloth that had been blocking his ears, standing solemnly—it startled Tranks, who gestured urgently for him to be cautious.

The haunting, mournful calls were like whispered words from a lover, stirring an uncontrollable longing to enter her tender embrace, to share in her sorrow. The strange allure filled Han Shuo’s mind, conjuring illusions as if Fanny herself were calling him from the swamp, compelling him forward.

But as he took a few steps, his mind cleared. Gathering his indomitable willpower, Han Shuo forced himself to halt, standing immobile as a rock against the seductive influence.

Years of cultivating magical discipline had forged Han Shuo’s will into an unyielding fortress. The Medusa’s call could not be countered with magic or fighting spirit; only resolute will could withstand it. Confident in his mental fortitude, Han Shuo discarded the earcloth, testing whether the Medusa’s charm could shake him.

The outcome was clear: his long training had endowed him with extraordinary resilience. The seductive calls, once overwhelming, gradually lost their power until they no longer affected him.

Taking confident strides forward, his expression relaxed and natural, Han Shuo was free from the Medusa’s enchanting grasp. From a distance, Tranks watched in astonishment, silently giving a thumbs-up in admiration of Han Shuo’s iron will.

Five or six level-three or four beasts appeared, accompanied by two frost eagles circling low overhead. Han Shuo and Tranks exchanged a glance, their attention immediately drawn to the frost eagles.

Clearly influenced by the Medusa’s voice, the eagles had come low, likely intending to perch on the swamp’s edge. Han Shuo gripped a powerful crossbow, took aim at one eagle’s extended neck, and released a precise arrow that whistled through the air.

Simultaneously, Nia and two mages attacked another frost eagle. The bird was large, and if it fell into the swamp, the Medusa would not need to hunt for at least five or six days, rendering their preparations futile. They could not allow that.

The confused frost eagles were less wary than usual. Han Shuo’s arrow struck true, bringing one down. Meanwhile, Nia’s arrows landed on the second eagle but caused little damage.

The wounded eagle flew past the group, heading toward the swamp. Han Shuo grew anxious. Reloading the crossbow took precious time, and just as he prepared to wield the Death-Reaping Blade, Tranks suddenly hurled a dagger infused with his fighting spirit, which pierced the eagle’s tail.

The injured eagle’s wingbeats faltered, and it began to descend. At that moment, the Scorpion Lion darted forward like a thunderbolt, slashing with powerful claws that severed the eagle’s neck.

On the ground, traps and the efforts of three swordsmen had cleared all remaining beasts. The group relaxed briefly—until a young elven woman appeared nearby. She was strikingly beautiful, dressed in fine garments, but wore a dazed expression as she hurried toward Han Shuo.

Alarmed, Han Shuo rushed forward to block her path. “Stop! Please, stop!” he commanded.

But the elf, clearly under the Medusa’s spell, ignored his pleas, moving relentlessly toward the swamp.

“Not everyone has your willpower. Don’t waste time persuading her—grab her!” Tranks shouted from afar as the elf neared the mire, Han Shuo still trying to reason with her.

Han Shuo hesitated but, seeing her approach the swamp’s edge, acted swiftly, catching her in his arms despite her struggles and carrying her away.

“Brother... brother!” the elf cried repeatedly, pounding her small fists against Han Shuo’s chest in despair.

The blows were harmless, and Han Shuo held her firmly, gradually retreating from the swamp. The Medusa’s mournful calls grew more frantic, but no other creatures stirred nearby.

After a while, the Medusa’s enchanting voice ceased, its strength spent. Its massive form, long hidden beneath the mud, slowly emerged from the swamp’s depths.