Chapter 215: Brutal—Burn Her Alive
Nan Xun stared, dumbstruck. She had seen videos before of pythons swallowing an entire deer, but witnessing it with her own eyes was far more shocking!
A section in the middle of the python’s belly was stretched grotesquely wide.
Nan Xun knew—that was… A Bao.
After the initial shock, Nan Xun calmly—almost coldly—watched as the giant python finished swallowing A Bao whole.
She was already too late to stop it, and deep down, she didn’t want to. Someone like him deserved to die.
“Ah—!”
A shrill, terror-filled scream snapped Nan Xun back to her senses.
Just moments ago, all her attention had been fixed on the struggle between A Bao and the python; she hadn’t noticed anyone approaching at all.
The woman screaming was A Xiang. Standing beside her was A Hua. Both of them were deathly pale with fear.
The moment they realized Nan Xun had noticed them, they turned and ran—fast.
Nan Xun opened her mouth, her instincts screaming danger, and immediately chased after them.
The two women glanced back. When they saw Nan Xun chasing them, they screamed even harder and sprinted back toward the tribe at the fastest speed of their lives.
Nan Xun: …
By the time Nan Xun reached the tribe, the men had already returned from the hunt. A Xiang was babbling excitedly to them about something. Nan Xun was too far away to hear clearly, but when she drew closer, she saw the men lifting their spears and pointing them at her.
Nan Xun frowned slightly and scanned the crowd—A-Mang wasn’t there.
“Where’s A-Mang? Why hasn’t he come back?” Nan Xun asked the men who had gone hunting with him.
The men looked at her gravely and stayed silent for a long moment. Finally, one of A Hua’s men explained, “A-Mang spotted a large saber-toothed tiger and injured it. The tiger escaped, and he chased after it alone. We couldn’t keep up, so we came back first.”
Nan Xun’s heart sank.
A-Mang had caught several saber-toothed tigers before and was very experienced. She wasn’t worried about him getting hurt. What she feared was what the cannibal tribe might do to her while he was gone.
Sure enough, A Xiang suddenly dropped to her knees with a thud and burst into heart-wrenching sobs. Pointing at Nan Xun, she wailed, “It was this woman who commanded the giant python to swallow A Bao! I saw it with my own eyes—A Bao was swallowed bit by bit, and this woman just stood there watching! The python didn’t eat her at all—they’re in cahoots! It’s terrifying, terrifying! She must be a witch envoy sent by the Witch Demon—she’ll kill every single warrior in our tribe one by one…”
If only A Xiang had witnessed the python swallowing A Bao, the tribe wouldn’t have believed her outright—after all, A Xiang had always been jealous that A Xi had become A-Mang’s woman.
But A Hua had seen it too.
When everyone turned questioning looks toward A Hua, her face pale, she glanced at A Xi and then nodded with difficulty.
With confirmation, the tribe members’ gazes toward Nan Xun changed completely—distant, wary, brimming with hatred and killing intent.
“But A Xi doesn’t look like a witch envoy. She taught us how to make pottery bowls, she found so much food, she even told me lots and lots of stories,” a child suddenly spoke up.
Before the child could finish, an elder woman clamped a hand over the child’s mouth.
When it came to witch envoys, no one dared speak up for Nan Xun.
She had just “commanded” a giant python to kill the renowned warrior A Bao. There were eyewitnesses. There could be no mistake.
A Xiang glared viciously at Nan Xun and shouted, “Everything she did before was just a trick to deceive us! Her goal is to wipe out all the warriors of our cannibal tribe so that the old people, women, and children will starve to death! She is a witch envoy sent by the Witch Demon!”
The Witch Demon was the evil god most feared by all prehistoric humans. They firmly believed that disease and bitter cold were spread by the Witch Demon, who constantly sought to take human lives.
Once, an entire tribe had died out within just ten days—people said a witch envoy sent by the Witch Demon had come to annihilate them.
Nan Xun deeply regretted it now. Damn it—this woman A Xiang really should’ve been killed earlier!
“A Bao was indeed killed by that giant python, but it had nothing to do with me,” Nan Xun said, her face openly filled with disdain and disgust. “In fact, A Bao tried to violate me by the river today. If that python hadn’t suddenly appeared, he would’ve succeeded. A man like that deserved to die!”
A Xiang let out a piercing scream. “Did you all hear that?! She admitted it! A Bao was killed by that giant python, and the python was commanded by her! It avoided her and attacked A Bao directly! She’s a witch envoy! She’s a witch envoy!”
Nan Xun: …
“I said A Bao tried to violate me! Can you even understand human speech? That python wasn’t commanded by me! He angered it himself—that’s why he was eaten!”
Nan Xun tried to explain, but the tribe members focused only on the latter part. Whether A Bao had tried to violate her no longer mattered—what mattered was that she was a witch envoy.
Why had the python spared her yet swallowed A Bao alone? The answer was obvious.
At that moment, someone suddenly shouted, “Burn the witch envoy to death!”
Then others echoed one after another, “Burn the witch envoy! Burn this outsider woman to death!”
Nan Xun looked at the twisted, shouting faces before her—faces that had been smiling and friendly not long ago, now eager to kill her. Even gentle A Hua wore a cold expression.
Her heart went cold.
Still, she understood. Ancient people were ignorant—especially these prehistoric humans.
So the very next second, Nan Xun made an extremely wise decision.
Without another word, she turned and ran.
This was already the second time she’d fled in disgrace today, but she had no choice. She wasn’t about to stand there and let them capture her, tie her to a stake, and burn her alive.
A-Mang wasn’t back yet, and the enraged tribe members might very well act first and ask questions later. She had to save her own life before that happened.
The cannibal tribe members froze for a moment. They clearly hadn’t expected her to run so decisively—not at all like a witch envoy.
The men immediately grabbed their spears and chased after her.
Nan Xun was grateful that night had already fallen and that these prehistoric people hadn’t yet invented torches. Using the darkness as cover, she darted into the grass and ran straight toward the depths of the forest.
She didn’t know how long she ran. With the poor visibility, she tripped several times along the way, but she didn’t dare stop—she had to keep running.
Gradually, the sound of pursuit behind her faded. Eventually, the shouts disappeared altogether, leaving only layers of chirping insects in the darkness.
Panting, Nan Xun found a rock cave to take shelter in. She didn’t enter immediately, instead picking up several stones and throwing them inside.
After a long while, seeing no ferocious beast rush out, she finally felt safe enough to crawl into the cave.
“Little Eight? Little Eight!” Nan Xun called urgently.
Little Eight still didn’t respond—apparently still in seclusion.
It was pitch black all around. Without Little Eight as her cheat to watch for danger, Nan Xun didn’t dare fall asleep no matter how exhausted she was.
Ignorant prehistoric humans were terrifying—they actually wanted to burn her alive!
So infuriating. Just earlier they’d treated her so politely, and now they’d turned on her in the blink of an eye.
