Fairy, Please Forgive Me, I Never Meant to Impersonate Your Husband

Chapter 18: The Slave Caravan and the Spineflinger Centipede

The night lasted three and a half standard days before the twelve moons faded, and daylight began to descend.

For those not native to the Tianyuan World, or those like Wu Yuan, who had long since grown accustomed to its rhythms—the erratic shifts between day and night could be unbearable. Yet for those who had adapted, this unpredictable cycle held a peculiar beauty.

Chen Yong, accompanied by Ma Jin, the leader of the logging team, drove two heavily laden yellow rhino carts away from the relay station. Behind them followed ten armed couriers, including Huang Tie, heading south of Redleaf Cliff.

They carried away most of the station’s stored ordinary materials from the past ten days, along with nearly three hundred pieces of Yuan-qi-infused equipment—accounting for sixty percent of the temporary storeroom’s contents, excluding what Wu Yuan had moved to the public and private reserves.

Chen Yong and Ma Jin’s departure had been arranged by Wu Yuan.

He needed them to return to Qingqiao Town.

First, to report the completion of the relay station and handle some of the spoils of battle.

Second, to purchase more yellow rhino carts and daily supplies to sustain the station—preparations for the soon-to-arrive refugees from Huifeng Town.

Both Chen Yong and Ma Jin possessed pre-purchased Ninth-Rank Imperial Road travel permits, so their round trip would take only a few days.

Huang Tie and the others accompanied them solely to escort the pair through the sixty-li stretch of dangerous terrain.

Many of them carried Yuan-qi equipment, including the recently loaned Divine Arm Crossbows, which was why Wu Yuan felt confident sending just ten men as an escort.

After the group departed, Wu Yuan waited two full days before Huang Tie’s team returned.

They looked battered, but not a single man was missing, easing his worries.

He dismissed the others to rest, keeping only Huang Tie behind for a debrief.

“The trip went smoothly. Station Head Chen Yong and Ma Jin safely reached the Imperial Road with all goods intact. But we ran into trouble on the way back,” Huang Tie reported.

“What kind of trouble?” Wu Yuan frowned.

“A swarm of vicious insects blocked a critical pass—about two hundred of them. We had to detour ten li along the riverbank to get around them.”

“Two hundred? What kinds?”

“Half were hound beetles, seventy or eighty millstone beetles, and about ten iron chariot beetles. There was also a massive one we’d never seen before—looked like the ‘Spineflinger Centipede’ from the old tales. Ten zhang long, covered in spikes.”

Wu Yuan’s frown deepened. This was an unwelcome complication at such a crucial time.

Chen Yong would return from Qingqiao Town in three to five days. With the station now reinforced—its defenses surpassing even those of a Second-Rank fortified structure—Wu Yuan planned to recruit more laborers from the refugee camps. The station’s completion report would bolster his chances. Chen Yong’s return would bring not just more yellow rhino carts and supplies but also new refugees.

The key question was whether a large transport group could bypass the insect-infested pass by taking Huang Tie’s riverbank detour.

Second, Wu Yuan was concerned about the swarm’s origin.

South of Redleaf Cliff’s mouth, stretching one hundred twenty li to the Ninth-Rank Imperial Road entrance, most demonic beasts and vicious insects came from the Demon Mound Hills. Some would pass through Redleaf Cliff despite disliking the scent of its redleaf grass.

Had this swarm recently skirted the station? Had they been wandering outside and only now gathered? Or had they crossed the cliffs far from the station?

Unfortunately, Wu Yuan’s current strength was too meager to investigate. Outside the station’s protective aura, even a modest monster group was dangerous—let alone one led by a Spineflinger Centipede.

The centipede’s blue-green hue indicated it was still in its “Azure Centipede” stage—around Level 20. But its lethality was terrifying. It could launch volleys of spikes, each nearly half as powerful as an arrow from a Divine Arm Crossbow. A barrage of hundreds was a nightmare.

After having Huang Tie describe the pass’s location in detail, Wu Yuan cross-referenced it with his dream memories of wandering beyond Redleaf Cliff. He pinpointed the spot—about ten li south of the cliff’s mouth and twenty li from the station.

The riverbank route might work for couriers on foot, but not for laden carts. Worse, the detour was too close to the infested pass. If discovered, casualties would be severe.

Unable to settle on a solution, Wu Yuan decided to scout the area himself. A fifty-li round trip wouldn’t take long.

Thanks to his dream memories—which included twice establishing territories within a thousand-li radius—he knew the region well. He could handle any danger.

Nowadays, Wu Yuan never traveled alone.

For safety, he equipped himself and ten couriers (plus Huang Tie and his doppelgänger) with Yuan-qi gear before leaving the station.

Beyond the southern cliff mouth, he sent his doppelgänger ahead as a scout—a tactic to minimize risk to his main body.

Though crafting the doppelgänger had been arduous, using it was better than endangering himself.

With practice, Wu Yuan had learned to control both bodies simultaneously, though the mental strain limited such efforts to half a day before requiring days of rest.

The doppelgänger scouted three li ahead, granting Wu Yuan real-time awareness—a surreal experience.

Ten li into the journey, Wu Yuan signaled his team to spread out and advance stealthily. His doppelgänger had spotted the insect swarm two thousand meters ahead—the pass Huang Tie had described.

The pass was a natural bottleneck: a thousand-meter-long, hundred-meter-wide stone ridge flanked by two hundred-meter-deep ravines. Under normal circumstances, it would be an easy path.

But the insects didn’t negotiate.

Wu Yuan’s main body observed from a hill two li away while his doppelgänger scouted the ravines. As feared, no viable route for carts existed.

He had two choices: eliminate the swarm or find another path.

Time was critical—Chen Yong’s return was imminent.

As he pondered alternatives, his doppelgänger spotted a large caravan approaching from the east, skirting the ravine’s northern edge.

The caravan had horses, towering pack beasts, and thousands of people bound by chains—undoubtedly a slave convoy.

Heading west, likely toward the Yunqing Jade Rain Mountain market.

Unluckily for them, their scouts had failed to notice the insect swarm ahead.

Meanwhile, the swarm sensed the approaching caravan.

A hundred hound beetles charged first, followed by forty millstone beetles and several iron chariot beetles. The Spineflinger Centipede loomed behind, raising its spikes as if selecting targets.

Only when the hound beetles’ thunderous charge reached them did the slavers react—with panic. Shouts of order were too late.

But a large caravan never lacked warriors.

As the hound beetles closed within tens of meters, three disheveled, blade-wielding brutes burst from the convoy’s seven or eight light carriages.

Each leaped ten meters, their massive spirit blades gleaming.

Before the hound beetles could strike, the blades flashed, bisecting the lead insects.

Wu Yuan’s heart clenched. These men were true Organ Refinement experts—Level 17 or higher.

Their ferocity steadied the caravan. More fighters rallied behind them, pushing the battle line forward.

But their momentum stalled when the millstone beetles arrived.

Forty millstone beetles were far deadlier than the handful Wu Yuan’s couriers had handled. Their rotating sawtooth shells made them tougher than Bone Forging warriors.

The slavers began taking losses.

Then the iron chariot beetles joined, worsening the situation.

Gaps formed in the defensive line. Hound beetles slipped through, wreaking havoc among the horses, pack beasts, and slaves.

Amid the chaos, a massively obese man—another Organ Refinement expert—emerged from a carriage, wielding a spirit sword. After killing two hound beetles, he gasped in fear and summoned the warriors back to protect him.

The three brutes had already slain four iron chariot beetles and a dozen millstone beetles. Reluctantly, one withdrew to guard the slaver boss while the others held the line.

Casualties mounted, but the remaining fighters were the strongest. The defensive line stabilized.

Another iron chariot beetle fell. The millstone beetles’ numbers halved.

Victory seemed near.

But victory unclaimed is no victory at all.

Unnoticed, the Spineflinger Centipede had closed to within a few hundred meters. Worse, it sent its remaining forces—twenty millstone beetles and five iron chariot beetles—into the fray.

The two slaver brutes, realizing the danger, unleashed reserved techniques, felling two more iron chariot beetles and six millstone beetles.

But the exertion left them panting.

Pre-battle “activities” in the carriages hadn’t helped.

With only one wounded iron chariot beetle and ten millstone beetles left, the swarm’s reinforcements were still three hundred meters away.

Just as the brutes relaxed, a sound like a thousand hissing mouths erupted.

The guarding brute shouted a warning—

“Watch out—”

Too late.

Hundreds of centipede spikes rained down.

The Spineflinger had attacked indiscriminately, impaling friend and foe alike.

Screams erupted. Both frontline brutes were hit—one fatally, the other grievously wounded.

The surviving enraged brute charged the centipede, ignoring his companion’s shouts.

Burning his life force, he closed the distance in seconds and unleashed his strongest strike.

His blade flared brilliantly—

But the centipede sacrificed an antenna and a mandible to blunt the attack.

The blade still carved a meter-long gash in its abdomen, spraying corrosive blood everywhere.

The brute, seeing his ultimate strike fail, laughed bitterly, collapsed, and died.