Chapter Sixty-Five: Bubble Bunny Battle—The Moment of Kings

In that instant, chaos erupted from the elbows—a twist none could have foreseen. The second wave of Bubble Rabbits had no time to react before they were hurled high into the air, landing with a clatter upon the opposite hillside. Yet something astonishing occurred: rather than sliding swiftly down as they should have upon the soft, snowy slope, their spheres adhered directly to it. They neither ascended nor descended; it was as if the snow itself had become an impossibly powerful glue, holding those rabbit balls fast in place!

Inside each sphere, the rabbits flailed their limbs in frantic effort, trying desperately to set the balls rolling. But no matter how they struggled, all they achieved was a precarious wobbling atop the slope, utterly unable to break free. More and more of the second wave were cast onto the slope, and as their struggles grew ever more violent, the trembling of the snow intensified. Soon, loose snow was shaken free, and what lay beneath was at last revealed.

It was a vast expanse of layered, overlapping spider webs, spanning dozens of meters in every direction! The main frames and branches of these webs were made of silk as thick as a child’s arm, the lesser strands at least as hefty as an adult’s thumb. Though they appeared crystalline, brittle, and smooth, they possessed extraordinary toughness and stickiness. The silken strands crisscrossed in bewildering density, forming a great octagonal net that merged seamlessly with the snow, its base anchored at the foot of the slope and its surface laid out in a single, slanting sheet. Unless one looked closely, even from five meters away, it could easily be overlooked.

Among the rabbits stuck to the web, a clever one soon had a revelation: wait, only my sphere is stuck, not me! Why am I so attached to this ball? If I break free and crawl out, I can simply make another one. Moved to action, the rabbit flung highest took the initiative. It knocked its head against the inner wall of the ice sphere, the diamond-shaped ruby on its brow glowing bright. With a sharp ‘crack’, the upper half of the sphere shattered into sparkling fragments, and the Bubble Rabbit crawled out. Before it could even savor its newfound freedom, a hiss of air rushed past its short ears—a thick strand of spider silk shot out from beneath the snow like a striking viper, latching onto the exposed rabbit before it could react!

The trajectory of the silk was cunning. The tip caught the rabbit’s hind leg, then, as more silk followed, it looped around, binding the creature tightly. The rabbit, poised to leap, was yanked down and pinned to the ground, convulsing in vain. The binding force was immense; no matter how the Bubble Rabbit struggled, it could not break free. In the cold wind, the damp silk rapidly dried and hardened, tightening further with each second. With her keen hearing, Catherine even caught the brittle snap of bones breaking beneath the pressure. Once the rabbit ceased all movement—its strength spent—a spider nearly a meter tall emerged from beneath the snow, stalking slowly along the web towards its prey.

It was the most extraordinary spider Catherine had ever seen. Its legs were bent, lifting its abdomen high off the ground; in a relaxed pose, it stood nearly a meter tall, and with its eight limbs extended, it covered an area three meters across. Its skin was a silvery gray, adorned in places—such as the chest, leg joints, and the chelicerae before its mouthparts—with a crystalline blue armor, lending it a strange beauty. Its eight pairs of compound eyes were the same pale blue, though they were lifeless, devoid of spark or animation.

Despite its fearsome form, its spinnerets appeared delicate and soft, likely for the sake of its silk-spinning function. The area around its mouth was moist—a clear vulnerability. To guard this weakness, a pair of massive, curved chelicerae jutted from either side of its face, sharp as a bull’s horns. The spider halted before the bound rabbit, its sharp chelicerae clicking together before spreading apart. Its mouthparts twitched, then opened wide, releasing a stream of silk that swiftly cocooned the rabbit in a snow-white shroud.

Not entirely covered, Catherine noticed; the rabbit’s nostrils were left exposed, two tiny air holes ensuring it would not suffocate. This was, without doubt, a means to keep the feast fresh for as long as possible.

The ice-blue spider lowered its head, inspecting its handiwork with multifaceted eyes and seeming quite pleased. It stooped, lifted its prize with its front legs, then used its silk to fashion a net-bag that it slung beneath its abdomen, ready to carry back to its lair for leisurely enjoyment. The same scene was unfolding all across the slope; none of the second-wave Bubble Rabbits escaped their fate. Each was claimed by its own ice-blue spider to become ‘long-lasting rations’.

A few unlucky rabbits became the quarry of two spiders at once. When both sets of silk landed upon the same rabbit, neither spider would yield. A brief tug-of-war ensued until the rabbit’s body was torn in two, spilling crimson blood upon the snow. No longer fit for storage, the spiders tore the carcass apart with their huge chelicerae and devoured it on the spot.

For the most part, every spider that surfaced secured a prize. Satisfied, they turned and began to retreat to their lairs. At the moment when they turned, exposing their broad dorsal carapaces, Catherine gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

The backs of these spiders were also ice-blue, their vast carapaces reminiscent of turtle shells, covered in intricate patterns. But what truly shocked her was what lay beneath those patterns: the vivid, twisted visages of human faces, lifelike in every dreadful detail!

These faces were disturbingly realistic—pale, contorted features, each locked in a different expression. Across the hillside, on the backs of every ice-blue spider, Catherine counted at least a dozen different emotions: anger, hatred, rage, jealousy, sorrow, grief, pain, and anguish…

Each twisted face radiated a torrent of negative emotion. The sheer horror of the scene sent an icy chill down Catherine’s spine. Before she could turn to ask Ling Mo about it, a sharp, shrill chorus of screeching cries broke out—the strong Bubble Rabbits who had broken through the snow-fox ambush were suddenly on the move.

They let out piercing cries, charging the slope like rabid dogs. As they neared the base, just before reaching the hidden webs, each rabbit kicked off the ground with all its might, leaping high into the air and aiming their descent at a chosen ice-blue spider.

The spiders’ sensory hairs bristled, attuned by their fine fur to every tremor in the air. They sensed something descending upon them, but carrying their ‘provisions’ and weakened from their recent spinning, they could not react in time.

Before the spiders could turn, the strong rabbits landed squarely on their backs. Using the spiders as springboards, the rabbits adjusted their stance and sprang again, vaulting clear of the exposed web zone and reaching halfway up the slope in a blur.

Not every rabbit was so fortunate; at least a dozen, caught at the moment of takeoff by silk from beneath, were slammed to the ground and lost their lives. After this tumult, fewer than ten Bubble Rabbits remained, the closest among them now less than twenty meters from the Ice Crystal Radish.

Without a doubt, the last stretch of snow concealed more spiders and webs. The remaining rabbits, as if with one mind, activated the diamond rubies on their brows, conjuring five or six large bubbles each. In the icy wind, these were swiftly frozen into ice balls, encircling their creators as they hurtled downwards.

Even before landing, while still airborne, the Bubble Rabbits displayed their ingenuity. With their forelegs they kicked, with their hind legs they thrust, ramming their ice balls at one another, each hoping to unbalance or stun a rival and thus claim a precious foothold in the web-strewn chaos below.

Their ice balls collided mid-air, sending trajectories awry. Some bubbles even exploded, spraying shards in every direction. The scene was utter bedlam: flying ice balls, whistling silk, swirling snow, rabbits sent crashing, spiders bursting forth—it was impossible to tell where to look, impossible to say who held the upper hand. In the midst of this confusion, one Bubble Rabbit stood out—a rabbit with explosive muscles in its hind legs and a ruby on its brow larger than the rest. Rolling and crawling, it fought its way clear of the webs.

A few leaps brought it to the pale purple Ice Crystal Radish. With a single bite, it devoured the radish’s light green leaves. Clutching the root with its forepaws, it gave a mighty tug and pulled the entire radish from the snow. Yet the sight of the Ice Crystal Radish nearly made Catherine cough up blood: its upper half was a normal cylinder, about the thickness of two fingers, but the portion buried beneath the snow was unmistakably shaped like a male organ—fully erect, with even the ridge at the crown clearly defined.

The robust rabbit gnawed off the side roots with a few crisp bites, then sat itself squarely on the ground, legs splayed, revealing its own round testicles. With its forepaws, it flipped the radish upside down, stem facing back, and pressed the tip against the tiny opening above its own eggs. The luridly shaped radish fit snugly in place. The rabbit stood, gave a pleased shake of its new ‘radish’, and, thoroughly satisfied, darted into a nearby cave and vanished from sight.