The Man-Eating Flower

Li Juntang stood at the ship’s rail, gazing at the dreamlike island before him, his very breathing becoming cautious.

Sunlight filtered through the towering ancient trees, scattering mottled light across the mossy ground. The air was thick with a strange floral fragrance --- sweet as honey, yet carrying a faint, refreshing sharpness.

The soldiers behind him could no longer restrain themselves. One by one, they set down their weapons and reached out to touch the hanging vines --- vines adorned with crystal-clear fruits, like clusters of purple amethysts, refracting dazzling brilliance beneath the sun.

“Your Highness, look at that tree!” one of his personal guards cried out in amazement.

That giant trunk was covered in spiral patterns, resembling a naturally formed staircase. Within a hollow grew luminous fungi, illuminating the surroundings as brightly as daylight.

A few squirrels with wings leapt down from the treetop. Their wings, as they fluttered, scattered glittering motes of light, which landed on the soldiers’ armor and instantly became twinkling stars.

Li Juntang slowly walked down the gangplank, the moss beneath his boots rustling softly.

He bent down to pick up a palm-sized leaf. The edges shimmered with golden trim, its veins clear and delicate as the finest embroidery.

Just as he was about to hand the leaf to the commander beside him, a short, sharp scream suddenly came from the rear of the group.

“What happened?” Li Juntang snapped his head around.

A young soldier was crouched before a cluster of flowers. They bloomed with bowl-sized pink blossoms, their petals layered thick, with golden stamens at the center, looking bright and exquisite.

The soldier reached out to pluck one. But the moment his fingertips brushed the petal, the flower suddenly trembled violently.

In the next instant, those once-soft petals snapped open, revealing rows upon rows of white, razor-sharp teeth --- like the serrated edge of a well-honed saw.

Before the soldier could even react, the entire flower lunged forward. With a chilling snap, the teeth clamped shut, swallowing the soldier’s head whole.

Blood sprayed from his neck, splattering across the pink petals. But the petals greedily absorbed every drop, glowing more vibrantly than before. Even the golden stamens now gleamed with a sinister red light.

“It’s a man-eating flower!” someone screamed in horror.

Li Juntang’s pupils contracted. His sword flashed from its sheath, slicing through the monstrous blossom in one swift strike.

Thick, dark-green fluid spurted out, splashing onto the moss. At once, a sizzle rang out as the vibrant moss shriveled into blackened powder.

But the horror had only just begun. From the severed roots of the flower burst countless white tendrils, writhing like venomous snakes as they lashed toward the nearest soldiers.

At the same time, the surrounding trees began to shake violently. The vines that had hung innocently moments ago now hardened like steel, barbed hooks springing from their tips as they lashed savagely into the crowd.

One soldier failed to dodge. A vine coiled around his neck, tightening instantly. His eyes bulged, his tongue lolled out, and his body was yanked into the dense forest like a broken kite, leaving behind only a strangled, despairing wail.

“On guard! Everyone, on guard!” Li Juntang’s voice carried a chill sharper than steel.

He swung his sword, severing the incoming vines. Yet, to his horror, the severed ends sprouted new buds that grew into fresh vines at a speed visible to the naked eye, relentless as ghostly phantoms.

On the left flank, the grassy field suddenly bulged upward. Dozens of half-human-tall ferns slowly rose, their roots forming thick, trunk-like legs. Jagged teeth lined the edges of their fronds as they advanced step by step.

A seasoned general lunged forward, striking a fern with his fist. But the moment his skin touched the jagged edge, his knuckles split open with deep, bone-revealing gashes. The fern’s green sap seeped into the wounds. The warrior’s scream was heart-wrenching as his arm swelled and blackened, turning into charred, purple-black remains within just a few breaths.

“Burn them! Use fire!” Li Juntang barked the order.

The soldiers scrambled for fire strikers, but before they could light their torches, the air suddenly thickened. From the ancient tree trunks burst countless tiny holes, releasing faint green vapors.

The mist touched a fire striker’s spark and --- whoom! --- ignited into blue flames, crawling up a soldier’s arm in an instant and engulfing his body entirely.

Screams echoed endlessly. The paradise-like island had become a living hell.

Li Juntang’s sword slashed furiously, his blade weaving a net of light to shield his men. But even so, he could not halt the onslaught that came from every direction.

He watched helplessly as a personal guard was impaled through the chest by a root that burst from the ground. The tendrils upon it worked like greedy straws, sucking his blood dry. The dull gray roots gradually turned a vibrant, sickening red.

“Retreat to the lake!” Li Juntang roared, turning his blade to carve a path open.

The surviving soldiers staggered forward, leaning on one another, trampling the corpses of their comrades as they fled toward the water.

But after only a few steps, the moss beneath their feet suddenly grew slick. Looking closer, they realized in horror that the moss had transformed into swarms of tiny insects, writhing and crawling. They slipped through the gaps of soldiers’ boots, biting savagely.

One man collapsed, rolling on the ground, clawing frantically at his boots. Within moments, his screams ceased. His body shriveled into a dry husk. - Ton

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