Chapter Ten: Long Live Humanity

Boom!

A boulder over fifty meters in diameter thundered down from the mountain, crashing heavily at a junction and blocking the narrow road through the valley. The impact startled a flock of insects, birds, and beasts, which scattered wildly in all directions. Yet only one ferocious beast, towering over thirty meters tall with a single horn, remained unmoved, calmly devouring the headless corpse of a giant eight-legged creature.

Sharp whistles pierced the air from both sides of the valley path. Moments later, urgent whistles echoed throughout the gorge. When the whistles faded, a burly figure leapt down from the right side of the valley, his upper body bare, gripping a stone-tipped spear.

“Unicorn beast! Prepare to die!”

This man was Luo Zu, who had gathered the people of the settlement and set up this trap, determined to face the giant beast he had classified as a level six monster, alone. According to Luo Zu’s system for grading wild beasts and monsters, there were six levels. Level one included small chicks, ducklings, and mice—creatures that even human children could kill individually. These diminutive animals were numerous in the mountains, but their unity and exceptional ability to escape made them the hardest to catch.

Level two comprised small herbivores and some small carnivorous predators, the most frequent prey for the “Cave Dwellers,” such as the one-horned mountain goat and six-legged mountain cat. Level three included beasts taller than a person, also prime targets for the “Cave Dwellers.” Level four encompassed giants over three meters in height, like the eight-horned water buffalo. Level five referred to beasts such as the massive water buffalo caught last time, which stood two to three times as tall. Level six described creatures of even greater stature, akin to small hills.

Though such monstrous beasts were insignificant as ants to the gods and immortals of the primordial world, they were untouchable threats to the tiny human race—at least, until Luo Zu joined the “Cave Dwellers.” As for this grading system, it didn’t quite fit the standards of the ancient land, but it was a habit Luo Zu had brought from his travels. Once his horizons broadened and he mingled with immortals, he would have to ask how they classified the myriad things.

Now, after emerging from seclusion, Luo Zu had chosen this giant beast, lurking near the “Cave Dweller” settlement, for his first true battle. He named it the Unicorn Beast. It stood over thirty meters tall, its head and tail together stretching nearly ninety meters, like a train—though even trains seemed frail compared to it.

It bore tough armor, impenetrable even to the settlement’s strongest warrior, Ironhead, wielding a stalactite-forged spear. Ironhead possessed the supernatural talent to harden his whole body, and, thanks to Luo Zu’s breathing techniques, his strength had tripled or quadrupled. Yet even he had failed, his weapon shattered against the beast’s side.

Luckily, Luo Zu had prepared contingencies and rescued Ironhead, though the warrior lost a hand, torn clean off by the Unicorn Beast. Ironhead survived, but others were not so fortunate: two died, three were maimed, and the rest fled in panic—some plummeting into deep ravines to their deaths, others knocked unconscious against boulders. Of the eighteen who had attacked the Unicorn Beast, only twelve returned, four of them crippled.

The tragedy stemmed from their plan, which relied on Ironhead to draw the beast’s attention, focusing all preparations on him. They intended to frighten the Unicorn Beast into their trap, but the creature was unfazed, charging instead at their noisy group. Imagine a beast as massive as a train barreling toward you at over eighty kilometers per hour.

In the end, the “Cave Dwellers” hunting party was petrified by fear, leading to this calamity. Since then, the “Cave Dwellers” had kept an eye on the beast, but dared not hunt it again, gradually uncovering its habits. Now, Luo Zu, their true leader, would avenge his people.

Thump, thump, thump!

Luo Zu raced down the mountain, his bare feet smashing rocks beneath him, leaving deep footprints, each impact booming like distant thunder. Any ordinary beast would have fled in terror, but the Unicorn Beast’s four eyes glowed red, its rage boiling over. Its nostrils, as large as a human head, spewed white plumes. Tossing aside its meal, it stamped its ten thick legs in unison, snorting its yellowed, sharp horn, and charged at Luo Zu.

Rumble!

The mountain stones erupted as if detonated by explosives, flying and scattering skyward.

They were close.

In just three seconds, man and beast were separated by mere ten meters. Then, at just a meter’s distance, Luo Zu suddenly dove forward in a sliding tackle.

The Unicorn Beast, charging at full speed, could not alter its course. Its ten powerful legs thundered onward.

Luo Zu seized the moment, slipping beneath its belly.

Its ten legs, each over three meters long, allowed Luo Zu, agile as he was, to slide beneath even as the beast’s head plowed low to the ground.

In that instant, Luo Zu braced his spear, thrusting it into the Unicorn Beast’s abdomen. A crimson flame burst forth, blooming like a fire lotus in midsummer.

Boom!

The Unicorn Beast exploded as the fire lotus blossomed.

Splash!

Like a popcorn maker bursting its lid, blood and flesh sprayed skyward, painting half the verdant mountainside red.

Under this rain of blood, the heavy stench spread, mingled with a hint of scorched odor—sometimes masked by the blood, sometimes invading the mouths and noses of the onlookers.

As for Luo Zu, the instigator, he was pressed into the earth by the explosion, buried beneath a pool of flesh and blood.

On the mountainside, the “Cave Dwellers” watching were dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouths agape, frozen in shock.

“Hahaha!” Luo Zu leapt up from the Unicorn Beast’s mangled remains, soaring nearly ten meters high, then stood amid the chaos of the mountainside, laughing heartily.

The “Cave Dwellers” were jolted awake by Luo Zu’s exuberance. Fire Boy, bald and bold, was first to leap from cover, waving his stone spear and howling, “Boss, you’re awesome! Boss, you’re awesome!”

The others quickly followed: “Boss, you’re awesome! Boss, you’re awesome!”

This catchphrase, too, was taught by Luo Zu…

He never taught them anything good.

But Luo Zu relished their adulation. Raising his arms high, he shouted:

“Long live humanity!”