Chapter Twenty-Three: The Red-Haired Monster, A Father's Kindness and a Son's Filial Piety

"Wu." This was a name that Luo Zu made sure to remember.

In the future, when his cultivation was stronger, he might be able to find this Wu, and through him, locate that strange beast. Perhaps he could not settle the score with them now, but who could say what might happen in the days to come.

He gathered up the headless body of his fallen companion and, dragging it behind him, raced toward the mountain peak where the cave was hidden.

On that mountain, Luo Zu had designated a patch of land as the tribe's cemetery. After anyone died, their body would be brought there and buried. This was a practice Luo Zu suggested after the elders had left.

Though no one yet had a profound sense of death, being intelligent beings, they still felt sorrow at the loss of a companion. How could they bear to see a friend left to rot in the wild, their flesh picked apart by scavengers of the forest? It was a wound to their kind, and so all agreed upon the proposal.

"Chief, Captain, look over there!"

Just as they were about to leave, a team member suddenly cried out.

Everyone turned their gaze in the direction he pointed, and saw, amid the chaos at the valley floor, several monstrous beasts stretching their limbs.

These creatures were enormous, each at least a hundred feet long, with tiger-like heads and horse-like bodies, covered in red fur. They were digging at the roots of the bloodsucking purple vines, gnawing and devouring them hungrily.

But it wasn't only the roots they craved; they seemed to relish the very soil and rocks of the valley, biting into them with relish.

"When did they appear?" Luo Zu patted the dazed team member.

He pointed to the sky. "They grew out from the blood of that immortal."

Immortal? He must mean that strange beast. In the eyes of these cave dwellers, any being who could speak and wield such supernatural power was an immortal—especially one who could destroy a whole tribe in an instant.

"What?" Luo Zu stared in disbelief at the creatures.

So even the blood shed during that beast’s battle could give rise to such monsters? What kind of existence was that beast? Was it one of the legendary Golden Immortals who roamed the ancient wilderness, or perhaps just a minor celestial being?

Luo Zu had no answers. But he knew one thing: the monsters had noticed them.

The moment Luo Zu’s gaze met that of one of the beasts, his heart pounded, his body stiffened, and a nameless fear engulfed him.

He could not even handle these monsters born from a few drops of the beast’s blood.

Yet the monsters showed little interest in them. After a single glance, they returned to their work, chewing at the roots and earth with single-minded focus. Were they vegetarians? But those fangs and claws, that savage appearance, hardly seemed suited to a gentle diet.

Luo Zu observed them for a while longer and finally realized that the creatures were consuming only the soil and stones stained by the beast’s blood.

"Let’s go," Luo Zu curbed his curiosity, leading the hunting party away from the mountain.

For one so insignificant to survive in the wilderness, caution was essential. Curiosity could cost one his life.

They quickly departed, and as they went, Luo Zu summoned his vital energy, causing his severed hair to regrow. Otherwise, his half-bald appearance was truly unsightly.

Soon, they returned to the cave, buried their fallen companion, and took stock of the tribe.

The cave-dweller tribe had lost three members, but the rest were unharmed. Their communal goods remained untouched.

With this reassurance, Luo Zu relaxed a little.

He then instructed a tribe member with the "Clairvoyant Eye" ability to keep watch on the valley from afar.

There were seven of the red-furred monsters in total, each a hundred feet long and thirty feet tall. Whether they possessed supernatural powers remained to be seen; more observation was needed.

For now, the creatures remained in the valley, occupying Luo Zu’s homeland.

Luo Zu was not angry—though it meant that all his previous preparations would come to naught. If those monsters settled there, he would need a new plan.

It was troublesome, but far better than flying into a rage and damaging his health.

A month passed. The monsters dug up all the bloodsucking purple vines and excavated the earth to a depth of five or six yards. The stream pooled in the valley, forming small ponds.

What had once been a beautiful and pure land, with clear waters and vital energy, was now a scarred and polluted wasteland, unfit for habitation.

Luo Zu was anxious—he would have to keep living as a cave dweller.

But there was good news: once the monsters had eaten their fill and left the valley a wreck, they moved on.

"Where did they go?"

"They’re digging up another mountain," said Erwa, the clairvoyant child, pointing to a peak a thousand miles away.

Luo Zu gazed into the distance. He too possessed the "Clairvoyant Eye" and his sight was even keener. He saw, in the lush green forest scarred by the strange beast’s blood, a group of red-furred monsters tearing up the earth.

They targeted only those places touched by the beast’s blood, devouring the crimson-soaked soil and stone.

So ravenous were they that Luo Zu wondered if, should they ever encounter the beast itself, they would fling themselves upon it in a frenzy.

If they were truly born from the beast’s flesh and blood, it was a twisted cycle—like a father devoured by his children.

Yet, this was good news: the monsters’ purpose was simple—they sought only the blood of the beast, not the innocent bystanders.

Luo Zu instructed Erwa to continue monitoring the creatures, while he focused on his cultivation and refining his magical weapon embryo.

He gazed toward a distant peak, thousands of miles away.

There, a single arrow stood upright and solitary—none other than the one Wu had shot at the strange beast.

Through his clairvoyant eye, Luo Zu examined the arrow. Its material was unknown, but golden light flowed along its length, as if flames burned upon it, undiminished.

Perhaps it was a true magical weapon of the ancient world.

Luo Zu coveted it, but dared not approach. He was not the only one eyeing the arrow—once, a giant bird with a wingspan of a thousand yards tried to seize it, only to melt into a puddle of pus, a horrific fate.

Thus, though Luo Zu longed for it, he only dared to dream from afar.

But even this distant observation gave him inspiration—enough to make him reconsider his method for refining weapon embryos, hard won through many experiments.

Unfortunately, he did not have such rare materials. He only possessed a single ton of refined steel, accumulated painstakingly over thirty years in his pocket world.

And already, a third of it had been consumed by his efforts.