Chapter Fifty: That Year, I Became a Ray of Light

Buzzing, droning, a dull, mournful hum!
The black clouds piled atop one another like mountains, bearing down with the weight of ten thousand tons.
Luo Zu never expected to find so many insects in this stretch of forest.
It was a veritable paradise for anyone with trypophobia!
There were all sizes, countless species, at least tens of millions in number. They surged forth in a black torrent, startling Luo Zu, who hurriedly sealed the aura of the Insect Mother’s Cocoon within his “World-in-a-Jar,” allowing none of it to leak out.
The swarm then scattered as quickly as it had gathered, and in their chaos, they turned on each other, feasting hungrily as if the heavens themselves had granted them a self-serve banquet.
As the tide of insects gradually dispersed, Luo Zu signaled to the hidden members of his team that he was unharmed.
Rumble!
Just as he finished his subtle gestures, the earth beneath his feet trembled slightly.
The Great Dragon Worm had indeed been drawn out.
But as the aura of the Insect Mother’s Cocoon faded swiftly, the giant worm stirred only briefly, then returned to stillness.
Seeing the effect, Luo Zu wasted no more time.
He released the seals in his “World-in-a-Jar,” letting the aura of the Insect Mother’s Cocoon surge out unrestrained.
In the next instant, Luo Zu became a blaze of light—not through speed, but because his entire body erupted in fire. Flames burst forth before him, a storm of controlled fire magic detonating again and again, blasting a path through the ocean of insects that surged at him, clearing a way for his escape.
Indeed, the commotion wrought by the Insect Mother’s Cocoon was more explosive than tossing a boulder into a cesspit. The swarming flies of a summer outhouse were nothing compared to this tide of insects—it was as if every penny in the world were converging in one place.
Yet Luo Zu did not panic. Before him stretched a sea of bugs, behind him another tide—the perfect place for a firebomb, which could turn the ground into a barbecue for a million.
Boom!
At that moment, the Great Dragon Worm arrived.

It burst from the earth beneath the river valley, punching through the dense insect sea. Its maw, sharp as a pencil blade, exhaled a breath that dissolved a vast swath of insects instantly—large or small, armored or bare, none could withstand the touch of its breath. All were reduced to pools of liquid, which soaked into the crawling masses below.
The sight sent chills up Luo Zu’s spine.
He had underestimated the power of the Great Dragon Worm.
But there was no turning back now.
He summoned his sword, Jueque, flung the Insect Mother’s Cocoon onto its tip, and hurled it forward in a streak of light.
With the Great Dragon Worm’s breath so lethal, Luo Zu had no intention of fighting it head-on.
Discretion was the better part of valor.
The light around Luo Zu gradually faded, but Jueque shone ever brighter, its explosions unceasing, a barrage of blasts lighting the sky and never pausing for an instant.
He did not retreat far, keeping close behind, so that he was still engulfed by the insect sea. But a barrier of true vital energy pressed close against his skin, separating his body from the swarm.
Jueque blazed ahead at a blistering pace—after all, Luo Zu had infused half his vital energy into the blade, and years of refining had added another layer of spell-forbidding seals, making it faster still. With Luo Zu’s philosophy of “if you’re strong, even bricks can fly,” the sword was nearly supersonic.
With every pass, Jueque unleashed devastating blasts, each fireball illuminating more than five hundred meters around.
In its wake, a blazing tunnel stretched through the dense, surging insect tide—a dazzling corridor of fire, shining bright even in daylight, brilliant as a lantern-lit palace walkway.
But no one paused to marvel at the spectacle. Such wonders were never rare in the Wilds; every day brought new miracles.
Luo Zu, being at the heart of chaos, had no time for awe. He urged Jueque on—faster, ever faster...
For the Great Dragon Worm was gaining on them.
It revealed its full length—over ten kilometers—a terrifying behemoth, shrouded in a miasma of toxic fog and evil energy hundreds of meters thick. As it plowed through the forest, lush life withered to rot in an instant, insects dissolved into pus, and even the birds drawn by the feast were snatched from the sky, their remains splattering as pools of blood.
Luo Zu was grateful for his foresight—had he recklessly entered the valley to fight, he would have shared their fate.
He watched as a bird-demon, overestimating its strength, swooped toward the Great Dragon Worm for a meal.

It was swiftly stunned by the poisonous miasma around the worm, then dissolved by the strange mucus secreted from the blood-like patterns covering its hide, reduced to nothing but a puddle of blood.
If the insects were weak, the fate of this bird-demon showed just how dangerous the Great Dragon Worm was.
The bird-demon’s power was less than the great ape’s, but still greater than many beasts around the “Caveman King.” Yet the worm killed it effortlessly.
If Luo Zu had charged in, he might at least have forced the worm to exert itself.
At this point, Luo Zu ordered his teammates to cease all action—do not disturb the insect swarm, do not provoke the Great Dragon Worm. Watch, and nothing more.
He continued urging Jueque forward, stirring waves of chaos in their path.
For a hundred miles around, the forest was thrown into turmoil—birds scattered, beasts fled, insects swarmed, and the mountain range known to the Wu tribe as the Zihuang Peaks descended into chaos.
Roars echoed—one after another, the great beasts Luo Zu had marked as best avoided emerged, drawn by the commotion.
This was a pleasant surprise. None of the beasts paid Luo Zu any heed; all were fixated on the surging insect ocean and the Great Dragon Worm.
One after another, the beasts plunged into the insect sea, feasting wildly. Some, lacking sense, attacked the Great Dragon Worm, and the wise ones aimed for the “back of its neck,” but the worm had no neck—its slick, toxic, acid-shrouded body was far deadlier than any concentrated acid. Even the most powerful beasts, wielding their own strange arts, could not withstand the worm’s “armor.” The first taste sent them fleeing, unwilling to gnaw at such a hard bone again.
The Great Dragon Worm, too, had its unwavering purpose—it ignored the attacking beasts, intent only on pursuing the Jueque that carried the Insect Mother’s Cocoon.
Seeing the futility of goading the beasts to attack the worm, Luo Zu focused solely on guiding Jueque, luring the insect swarm toward the lake left by Kuafu’s footstep.
They were now only thirty kilometers from the lake, having already traveled over fifty.
Their speed was astounding—dusk was just falling, and only fifteen minutes had passed since Luo Zu set this plan in motion.
He squinted ahead.
The lake was close; he could see the giant fish lurking by the shore, its dorsal fin, like a mountain ridge, rising and falling on the mirrored surface.