Chapter Thirty-four: The Great Fish of the Lake, Another Three Years

At this moment, the rain had stopped, and it was nearing dusk in the afternoon. The sunlight was no longer harsh, but puddles had formed one after another on the ground, dotting the mountain landscape like strings of pearls and jade belts.

Luo Zu had no interest in admiring the scenery. Relying solely on Erwa’s description, he gazed into the distance.

In the direction he looked lay the lake left behind by the Dragon Elder God.

On the shore, a line of red-haired monsters was arrayed. They faced the lake, breathing in great gulps, as if trying to inhale all the moisture from its surface.

Yet, compared to the lake, their massive forms were but motes of dust; even a tiny sponge could not draw up all the lake's vapor, let alone them.

“How long have they been at this?” Luo Zu asked.

Erwa replied, “It was already happening when I noticed... About two hours.”

He glanced at the sky, then cautiously counted on his fingers.

In these ancient times, the passage of time was measured mostly by the sun’s rise and fall.

Luo Zu frowned. Two hours was not a short time.

But why were they doing this? Was it some form of worship? Or were they attempting to steal the lingering aura of the Dragon Elder God?

Though Luo Zu didn’t understand, he dared not interfere recklessly, lest he become their victim instead.

“Keep observing closely,” Luo Zu instructed.

He suspected this scene was somehow related to the recent rainfall. Perhaps in the past, the rain had missed them, but today it had fallen upon them, triggering this abnormal behavior.

“Yes, Chief.”

“Chief, they’re—”

“Uh, they’ve been eaten.”

This sudden reversal unfolded before Luo Zu’s eyes.

Where previously there had been nothing, the clear, blue-reflecting lake suddenly erupted as a giant beast leapt forth.

Its mouth was long and filled with sharp teeth; eight huge eyes sat atop its head, and its body resembled a carp, yet on either side grew three pairs of bat-like fins.

The creature was immense, spanning tens of thousands of feet. It lurked beneath the lake's surface, waiting for prey to approach before launching a surprise attack, dragging its victim into the water to drown.

Yet the lingering might of the Dragon Elder God imbued the lake, keeping most creatures at bay, which explained the beast’s malnourished appearance.

This time, however, it managed a decent meal.

All seven red-haired monsters in line were devoured, leaving not a trace behind.

“We’ve never seen such a creature before, have we?” Luo Zu asked in astonishment.

Erwa shook his head. “No, there was never anything there, only water.”

“So why did this strange fish appear today?” Erwa found it incomprehensible.

Luo Zu, however, saw no great mystery.

Once considered a dire threat to be eradicated when his cultivation allowed, the “red-haired menace” had met such a tragic end—some of their red fur still clung to the fish’s jaws.

Satisfied, the great fish slowly receded into the depths of the lake.

This fish was likely a demon by now; otherwise, with the strength of those red-haired monsters, it would have been impossible for them to be snatched without even a ripple, and the fact that it could survive in that lake spoke to its power. Perhaps it was even related to the Dragon Elder God—maybe a fungus that evolved from the god’s athlete’s foot? In this primordial world, such things were not beyond belief.

After all, the thoughts of those ancient deities could trigger massive upheavals in the mortal realm, bringing about countless calamities.

Their sheer scale meant that a mere glance bestowed power upon ordinary beings—not just increased confidence, but a mysterious force permeating their souls.

Perhaps this was “Heaven’s Favor.”

It was an unexpected accident, and Luo Zu could do nothing but warn his people to stay away from the lake.

Of course, none of them dared venture too close anyway; they all found the lake terrifying.

Now, with Erwa’s embellishments about lurking giant fish, a psychological shadow was cast over the entire tribe.

This was precisely the effect Luo Zu desired, so he let Erwa spread his rumors unchecked.

Time flowed by, and three years passed.

Luo Zu’s cultivation had deepened once more. He had advanced all his spells by a level, from the seventh to the eighth tier, increasing their power by thirty percent.

He had previously divided the tribe’s magical arts into nine tiers, above which existed the realm of true Taoist arts.

Now, some in the tribe had begun refining essence into energy.

Among them were Ironhead and Erwa; as for Fire Lad, he was as unrestrained as ever, yet had fathered no fewer than seven children in the past two years.

Indeed, he had entangled himself with four women, without a fixed partner, and in three years, had sired seven offspring, all of whom survived.

The infant survival rate among the “Cave Dwellers” was now much higher than before.

This was chiefly due to Luo Zu’s improvements to their environment, making the caves more sanitary. He no longer insisted on finding a plain to establish a settlement, but instead built their new home directly around the caves.

With brick-firing techniques and ironworking skills gained from the world within the gourd, the “Cave Dwellers’” lives improved rapidly.

A public latrine was finally built in the tribe, connected to a mountain spring. Water was stored, and when it was time to flush, one needed only to pull a lever to wash waste directly into a cesspit.

The accumulated waste in the pit could then be used to fertilize the steadily improving vegetable patch.

Through years of selective cultivation, they finally had edible “gourd squash” and “mountain yam.”

Though not true gourds or yams, their shapes and tastes were similar enough for Luo Zu to name them so. In this world, no one cared to quibble over such things.

In addition, the domestication of livestock was underway.

To Luo Zu’s surprise, Xi showed real talent in this area.

Perhaps because she had once been “domesticated” herself, Xi handled the six-legged sheep and eight-horned cattle with remarkable ease.

However, Luo Zu was reluctant to let her get involved, worried it would reopen old wounds, for Xi was, after all, human. If she remembered her past, it might cast a shadow over her heart.

Having spoken of daily affairs, let us return to Luo Zu’s cultivation. Not only had his spells advanced, but after three years, his power was on the verge of transforming his spirit, approaching the phase of “Refining Spirit to Return to Void.”

His spirit form was now so substantial it could almost pass for a living person.

Yet he still dared not walk in daylight; even though he stole a strand of solar essence each day, a spirit form remained a spirit form. Until he could transmute yin to yang, he could not walk beneath the sun.

But now, a path had revealed itself.

After “Refining Spirit to Return to Void,” he might transmute his spirit form into yang, becoming a sun spirit. Then he could walk beneath the sun, and with his more substantial spirit, perhaps directly command the forces of nature, harness mountains, and govern spiritual energy.