Race against time, life or death on the clock. According to Max Easton's calculations, from the first thunderous rumble to the final break in the bedrock, there are about seven days left.
"The crust won't split open all at once. The lava outside will seep in little by little, melting the rock. During this process, the temperature in here will gradually rise. Judging by how things are heating up, we've got about seven days."
A slap really does wonders—after being provoked, Max Easton snapped into mad scientist mode: "I'm a Yale professor, a PhD, an expert! I'm going to use a lifetime of geology know-how to carve us a way out in these seven days!"
Jill Young's digital watch started a countdown, serving as their guide on the road to survival.
Chopping wood, stockpiling food, stripping bark to twist into rope—faced with a survival crisis, humanity always sparks unexpected flashes of wisdom.
"Queen, where'd you learn to twist rope?"
"My mom taught me to spin cotton thread when I was little. Twisting rope is pretty much the same, nothing hard about it." Jill Young's hands worked fast, turning long strips of bark into sturdy rope in no time.
Max Easton tried to give it a go—ended up with nothing but blisters: "This bark is way too tough!"
"Today, I checked out all the lava grills in the forest zone and the rock patterns on the Grand Falls Cliff. I think our way out is to the east!" Max Easton drew an oval on the ground. "Say the underground space looks like this—we're at the far west. The western end is the volcanic tunnel I fell through, probably formed when the crust sank. So logically, there should be something similar on the far east, otherwise this space couldn't exist!"
"The volcanic tunnel on our side is a dead end. Climbing up the waterfall for two thousand kilometers to the surface—only a superhero could pull that off. So," Max Easton marked an X on the other end of the oval, his face channeling Rambo going deep behind enemy lines, "if there's any way out, it's gotta be here."
"Stop talking and start working! Get over here and help!" Jill Young didn't budge. "You're stitching these Shadow Wolf pelts together for a sail, and I'm not crossing some mystery ocean rowing a boat. If this sail rips halfway, you'll be buried with this lovely patch of land!"
"Yes, ma'am! But, Your Majesty, we don't have any needles for sewing Shadow Wolf pelts, do we?"
Jill Young tossed him a crossbow bolt without looking back. "Punch holes in the pelts with the arrowhead, then tie them together with rope. If cave people could do it, so can we. Quit whining and get moving!"
Time was tight, so the two of them worked overtime, giving it everything they had to build a boat. In the end, they managed only a simple wooden raft: logs lashed together into a rectangle, two upright poles at one end for masts, strung with rope and Shadow Wolf pelts for a sail. The other end got a makeshift rudder.
The logs on the sides of the raft were way thicker than the ones on the deck, and Jill Young spent extra effort hollowing them out like canoes to boost buoyancy and prevent capsizing. They split two planks for paddles, and honestly, Jill Young and Max Easton agreed this raft was pretty much the best they could do.
Besides the boat, Jill Young whipped up some gear. She yanked the horn off a Unishear, sharpened it, and fixed it to a stick for a DIY Unishear Spear. Max Easton made a bunch of Vine Shields—not just for defense, but you could tie them together as floaties or life rings.
Out of crossbow bolts, Jill Young made a bow. Well, calling it a bow was generous—it was just a decent-sized branch strung with beast sinew. The thing was massive, heavy, and stiff as a board. Standing upright, it reached Jill Young's chest. Max Easton tried to draw it and nearly busted a gut, but couldn't even get halfway. Jill called it Jill's Greatbow.
Jill Young gripped Jill's Greatbow in her left hand and pulled the string with her right, arms straining. The bow creaked and groaned, slowly bending. The beast sinew string was so taut it squeaked. She let go—twang! The string snapped back, and the arrow shot out like a rocket, nailing a tree fifty meters away. For a sharpened stick, that was some serious firepower.
"Your Majesty, I think the target's on the other tree."
"Don't remind me. We don't even have feathers, so forget about legendary marksmanship. Accuracy aside, this bow packs enough punch—worst case, we just shoot up close." Jill Young slung Jill's Greatbow over her back, full of swagger. "Spear, shield, bow—the big three survival tools, and we've got them all. We're basically decked out now—wait, why are you bleeding from your nose?"
"No, it's nothing..." Max Easton turned away, clutching his nose. No way was he admitting that Jill Young's bowstring, slung between her, uh, assets, made them look extra perky and that's what set him off.
With her first bow done, Jill Young whipped up a second, smaller and easier to handle. She handed it to Max Easton—now he had a weapon, and their survival squad had a better shot at making it. Jill called it Max's Bow.
At last, the day to set out arrived.
"Pack up the rations, meat, and water—let's go!" Jill Young barked. The raft hit the water. Jill Young struck a pose at the bow: "You! Pull harder! If you slack off, no dinner for you!"
Max Easton trudged along like one of those Volga boatmen, chanting a tired "heave-ho, heave-ho" as he went.
Yep, the raft was a bit oversized, and the forest river was too narrow to float it properly. So Max Easton had no choice but to play tow mule. Why wasn't Jill Young helping? Come on, Max, you're the big strong guy here!
Inspired, Jill Young belted out a tune: "Here I am at the bow, poor sucker walks the shore, mm-mm hey-hey, what a chump galore!"
(Chapter not finished yet~.~ Click next page for more fun!)
Max Easton wiped the sweat from his brow, panting. "What are you singing? That was... a unique melody. Is it a hometown classic?"
Jill Young flashed a thumbs-up, her pearly whites sparkling. "Yep! You should learn Chinese—there are tons of epic songs worth checking out!"
Max Easton's suffering as a tow mule didn't last long. Once the river hit the Grasslands, the terrain leveled out and the river widened enough to float the raft. Riding the current, Jill Young and Max Easton quickly picked up some boating skills. Hills rolled by, and now and then, Unishear and Shadow Wolves popped up along the banks.
Most of the beasts scattered, but some trotted alongside the raft, and soon there was quite a crowd. Jill Young thought of those melodramatic TV leads chasing after trains—except these lovesick critters weren't much different, besides the fur.
After a few twists and valleys, they thankfully dodged any killer waterfalls. As the riverbanks rose, Jill Young and Max Easton found themselves drifting into a canyon. Suddenly, the view opened up—it was the Underground Sea!
Well, not a real sea, since the underground space wasn't that huge—more like an inland sea. But with the "sky" glowing above, the vast waters looked endless. Misty waves everywhere, that was the vibe.
"First Mate Max, report the current time and temperature!"
"About five days left. Temperature's eighty."
"Eighty degrees?! At eighty, we're practically cooked!"
"Uh, that's eighty Fahrenheit. In Celsius, it's about twenty-seven."
Jill Young groaned. "From now on, when you talk to me, no Fahrenheit, miles, pounds, or gallons—switch to Celsius, kilometers, kilograms, and liters, got it? Western lit's always been a pain because of those wacky units."
"Aye aye, Captain! Understood!"
"Don't call me Captain, call me Queen!" Jill Young's voice was pure royalty as she whipped out her big blade. "I declare—hoist the sail! Let's go!"
"Aye aye, Captain! No problem, Captain!" Max Easton hoisted the Shadow Wolf pelt sail on the mast—it looked like a sheet strung between two clotheslines. But whatever, with the wind at their backs, the hope-filled raft finally caught the breeze and sailed forward.
Jill Young and Max Easton looked back. On the cliff by the shore, a bunch of Shadow Wolves had gathered. They watched silently as the raft set out, their eyes complicated, yet somehow simple.
"You guys stay on the train platform." Jill Young tossed her platinum hair, letting it float in the wind. "I'm heading off to the far side of the sea for adventure."
(I'm back, totally wiped out. Let me rest a day, and updates will be back to normal tomorrow.)