Steadily Upgrading Everything!
Chapter 41: Some people like accessories!

Chapter 41: Some people like accessories!

Soon, John and Caros stood before the gaping mouth of the cave.

Shadows pooled around the entrance like oil, thick and unmoving, as if light itself refused to enter.

Caros walked with a spring in his step, almost cocky in his movements.

His hands were behind his back, shoulders loose, and his eyes shone with eager excitement, as though this was nothing more than a casual stroll into a marketplace.

In contrast, John followed several paces behind, his movements slow and precise.

His hand never strayed far from his storage bag, and his senses were stretched thin, tuned to every subtle rustle of the wind and crunch of gravel beneath his boots.

As they reached the stone platform just before the cave’s threshold, Caros stopped and turned to John, flashing that same wide, ever-amused grin. "You go first," he said, gesturing toward the cave. "I’ll follow right behind you."

John stopped in his tracks.

His eyes narrowed like daggers.

"Do you think a mad dog bit me in the ass recently?" he asked, his voice dry and sharp.

A cold sneer spread across his face. "You really expect me to walk into that death trap first?"

The cave radiated danger.

The stillness, the claw marks, the oppressive aura, it all screamed at John to turn around.

But more than that, it was the fact that his Spatial Sense, his sixth sense honed and sharpened, was completely useless beyond the cave’s entrance.

It felt like pressing against an invisible wall.

And every time his Spatial Sense had failed him in the past... blood had followed.

Caros chuckled, seemingly unbothered. "Hehehe... you still don’t trust me, huh?" He took a step forward, extending a hand toward the dark threshold of the cave.

As his palm neared the shadowy edge, the air shimmered slightly.

A thin ripple spread outward in a circular wave, like water disturbed by a single drop.

John’s eyes sharpened instantly.

That ripple wasn’t just some barrier.

He could feel it now, a dense, cold spiritual pressure lurking within, ancient and watchful.

He’d sensed something like this before... near spirit ghosts.

And not the weak ones.

"The entrance is sealed with a barrier," Caros confirmed, his fingers still grazing the invisible ripple. "It’s stopping us from entering."

John’s voice was steady, but grim. "Good. Then let’s turn around. Whatever’s in there isn’t worth dying for."

Without hesitation, he pivoted on his heel and began to walk away.

"Wait!"

Caros’s figure blurred, and in the blink of an eye, he stood in front of John, blocking his path.

There was no hostility in his stance, only persuasion.

But John’s fingers tensed near his saber all the same.

"Just think," Caros said, leaning in slightly. "If we take this thing down... if we kill it and get the core, we’ll secure a place in the top fifty for sure. This is a chance neither of us should waste."

John didn’t budge.

Instead, a look of cold amusement crossed his face.

"We?" he echoed mockingly. "I’m sure there’s only one monster inside. And I’m even more sure that it’ll only drop one core. So tell me, Caros... who gets that?"

Caros’s expression didn’t falter, but his eyes glinted with something sharp.

Then he laughed, loud, nearly manic. "You’re clever, I’ll give you that." He ran a hand through his hair. "Alright then. How about this, I’ll let you have this core. Take it. After all, we’ll hunt together again, right? The next one we find, that core will be mine. Fair trade?"

John raised a brow, unimpressed. "And what makes you think I believe you’ll keep that promise? What’s stopping you from grabbing the core and running the moment I let my guard down?"

For the first time, Caros didn’t respond immediately.

A long silence stretched between them.

His smile dimmed.

His glowing purple eyes studied John’s face carefully, calculating, not amused.

Then finally, he spoke in a low voice, just above a whisper. "That’s a fair concern."

"How about this?" Caros suddenly spoke, his voice carrying a smug undertone. With a swift flick of his wrist, he reached into his spatial bag, rummaging with exaggerated drama.

"Ta-da!"

He pulled out a yellow slip and held it up like it was some priceless treasure.

John’s brows creased.

An escape slip.

Not some knockoff sold by street peddlers in Nine Sky Clan, but a real one, the kind distributed by the Blue Cauldron Sect.

Break it, and you’d be safely teleported out of the trial grounds. Alive? Yes. Qualified? Not anymore.

John’s gaze locked on it. He didn’t flinch.

"...Is it fake?" he asked, voice dry as dust.

Caros blinked. "Fake? Are you serious?" His face twisted into an expression of theatrical agony. "John, buddy, you’ve got the trust issues of an eighty-year-old grandpa with three divorces."

John didn’t laugh. He just stared.

Caros threw up his hands and groaned. "You’re impossible. Do you interrogate your dinner before eating it too?"

Then, with a dramatic sigh, he tossed the escape slip toward John. "Here. Touch it, sniff it, lick it if you must. It’s real."

John caught it mid-air.

He didn’t sniff it, but he did examine the edges, the spirit ink formation, the seal at the corner, and even tilted it toward the moonlight to catch the faint shimmer of a genuine sect-issued talisman.

After a moment, he muttered, "It’s real."

Caros threw his hands up again, mock-cheering. "Wow! The great John Coral has finally acknowledged the authenticity of something in this world. I’m honored."

Still expressionless, John slid the escape slip into his spatial bag and looked up. "Alright. I’ll go with you."

Caros grinned like he’d just won a bet.

"But," John added, voice firm, "if I even smell danger beyond my limits, I’m gone. And if you so much as try to trick me, I’ll break this slip and make sure you’re disqualified along with me."

Caros let out a low whistle. "Cold. Calculated. Borderline psycho. No wonder I like you."

John ignored the compliment.

They turned toward the cave.

Now up close, John could see the spirit barrier faintly shimmering at the entrance, like someone had wrapped the air itself in stretched glass.

The energy pulsing off it felt old, dense... and far from natural.

"Let’s break it and head in," Caros said, bouncing on his heels.

"You first," John muttered.

Caros snorted. "What, and ruin your dramatic moment?"

John took a breath, stepped forward, and pressed two fingers to his forehead.

A subtle hum began to rise in the air.

Then, a beam of soul light shot from his brow, thin and sharp, like a needle of pure consciousness.

It struck the barrier with precision.

The barrier shuddered.

For a moment, it resisted, pushing back with a ripple that made the ground under their feet vibrate faintly.

Then, cracks began to snake across its surface like a shattered mirror, until the whole thing dissolved into fine spiritual mist.

Caros clapped slowly, a wide grin on his face. "Okay, seriously. What is that technique? ’Soul Laser of Death’? ’Forehead Beam of Justice’? Do you name your attacks or just fire them and let people scream?"

John simply said, "Soul Piercing Gaze."

"Eh," Caros shrugged. "Mine was catchier."

Without waiting, Caros marched into the cave like he was going shopping for spirit beast meat.

John stared at his back, deadpan.

Then, with one final glance at the now-vanished barrier, he stepped in after him.

The darkness inside welcomed them like the open maw of a waiting beast.

As the two stepped into the cave, the air instantly turned cold.

Not the pleasant chill of a mountain breeze, but the oppressive stillness of a tomb.

The rocky floor beneath their feet was uneven and damp, and their footsteps echoed longer than they should’ve.

Strange scratch marks, deep, jagged, and unnaturally symmetrical, lined the walls as if something with claws the size of swords had tried to dig its way out.

John’s expression darkened.

His senses were screaming.

"This cave smells like death," he muttered, eyes scanning the walls.

"Nope," Caros quipped cheerfully. "That’s just me. I forgot to shower this morning."

John didn’t reply.

They walked further in until the tunnel opened into a wide chamber, the ceiling disappearing into the shadows above.

That’s when they saw it.

Lying in the center, curled into a massive spiral, was a ghostly snake, easily over thirty meters long.

Its translucent body shimmered with spiritual mist, and its scales glowed faintly violet, like embers trapped in ice.

Atop its head were two curling black horns, and from the faint pulse of qi around it, it was sleeping, but definitely not dead.

It exhaled softly, and the entire room trembled like the cave itself was holding its breath.

John stopped cold. "This is the small monster you mentioned?"

Caros blinked.

Then smiled. "I mean, technically, it’s lying down. So it looks smaller."

"Technically, it could swallow a horse and still be hungry."

Caros squinted, tilted his head, and said, "Okay, fair. It’s... slightly above average size."

John turned to him with a deadpan stare. "It has horns, Caros."

"Some people like accessories!" Caros whispered back. "Don’t spirit-shame it."

John sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

Then the cave shuddered again, not from their voices, but because the snake was stirring.

Its head slowly lifted from the coils, massive jaws stretching in a lazy yawn, and its hollow, glowing white eyes opened wide.

It locked onto them immediately.

And then, it spoke.

"Foolish mortals... you enter my slumber uninvited. Do you seek death?"

Its voice was like wind over dry bones, echoing with a deep rumble that made even the ground beneath them groan.

Caros clapped once. "Oh cool! It talks!"

John didn’t move. "Why are you clapping?"

"I’m just appreciating the fact that we’re about to die in style. Most spirit beasts just roar and bite. This one gives monologues. Respect."

The snake’s head hovered above them now, mouth half-open.

A dark fog leaked from its fangs, and its horns crackled with black qi.

The temperature dropped by several degrees, frost creeping along the stone walls.

John took a step back.

"Leave now," the snake growled, "or I shall turn your souls into incense and feed them to the void."

Caros raised his hand. "Okay, okay, two questions. First, is it cinnamon incense or lavender? Second, can we talk this out over lunch?"

John didn’t even blink. "Caros."

"What? Maybe it’s just lonely!"

The snake hissed.

The sound shook the walls, and small pebbles fell from the ceiling.

John whispered, "If we survive this, you’re never picking the next hunting spot again."

Caros gave a thumbs-up. "Agreed. But admit it, this is way more exciting than a squirrel."

John’s eyes narrowed, qi beginning to surge around him.

The ghost snake reared up fully now, casting a long shadow across the cave floor. "Your souls will be mine."

John activated his Soul Piercing Gaze. "Only if you earn it."

Caros grinned wildly, backing up as he reached into his spatial bag. "Okay! Time to die or shine!"