Chapter 45: The Nameless Demon Emperor

“How many witchfolk are there in the Fiery Witch Tribe?” Luo Zu asked cautiously.

Tang didn’t consider this a secret, especially since the tribe had already been scattered by the demon clan.

“There used to be thirteen witchfolk. Among them, the chieftain and the great elder were both ninth-rank witches, nearly reaching the rank of Witch Priest,” Tang replied.

“There are differences among witchfolk?” Luo Zu inquired further.

“Yes. It’s said that there weren’t any differences at first, but as more people practiced witchcraft, distinctions gradually emerged and were then categorized, leading to the current ranks from one to nine,” Tang explained.

“So that demon tribe must be quite formidable,” Luo Zu grew more concerned.

Tang nodded and clarified, “The Fiery and the Enmity Pheasant clans have battled on this land for a hundred thousand cycles, never gaining a decisive victory. This time, the Enmity Pheasant demon tribe happened to obtain a spiritual treasure.”

“A spiritual treasure?”

Tang explained, “A spiritual treasure is an artifact born of heaven and earth, infused with spiritual essence. It’s far stronger than this strange beast-bone club of mine.”

“But even after acquiring the spiritual treasure, the Enmity Pheasant tribe couldn’t use it directly. They offered it up to the celestial constellations above and prayed for the demon god’s blessing. Their chieftain received the blessing and became a Celestial Immortal, then led an attack on our Fiery Tribe.”

As she finished, Luo Zu handed her a bowl of salted meat broth.

She took a sip, her eyes lighting up. “This… salty flavor…”

“Salt,” Luo Zu said, passing her a handful.

Tang took it, pinched a little between her fingers, tasted it, and her eyes grew even brighter. “Could you share some of this with us? I’d like to exchange it for something.”

She beckoned a companion carrying a beast-hide bundle, who brought it forward. Tang took out two objects from the bundle.

“This is the reward for helping us.” She handed over a beast’s head, palm-sized, resembling a kind of rodent but with a sharp, protruding horn on its skull.

“It can be used for divination. Our elders have consulted it about various matters.”

Then she produced another object—a piece of pale yellow beast hide, inscribed with sparse, intricately arranged indigo script.

Luo Zu had never seen this kind of writing before. Tang explained that it was a sacrificial text of the witchfolk, not the usual witch script. This form of writing was said to communicate directly with the heavens, carrying even greater mystical resonance than ordinary witch script.

When the witches paid homage to the heavens and their ancestral witches, they used this script. Objects inscribed with it, after special ritual refinement, would become vessels with unique powers.

This beast hide, for instance, had a particular power…

“It can store objects larger than itself—just recite this incantation—”

“Ah-ya-ka-ya, ding-ding-ba-ka.”

“…Why not just call it Maka Baka?” Luo Zu was speechless at the chant.

Of course, Luo Zu didn’t know its true meaning. If he learned to use it, the words would take on their proper sense in his mind, and he wouldn’t even be tempted to laugh.

“This is the sacrificial text. Have you memorized it?” Tang pointed to a segment on the hide.

Luo Zu nodded.

Was the incantation really meant to be kept so openly? It reminded Luo Zu of a magical artifact from a drama in his past life—the Moonlight Box.

“So if you give us this, then you—” Luo Zu hadn’t finished speaking when he noticed a stack of beast hides peeking from the beast-hide bundle.

“Why not use these to store other things?” Luo Zu’s quick mind immediately questioned.

“They can’t,” Tang shook her head.

Would there be some kind of conflict? Luo Zu wondered. What if he tried storing one of these in his own gourd-world?

“Why not inscribe the sacrificial text onto something even more convenient, like clothing…” Luo Zu scratched his head as he spoke.

In this primordial era, many still went barely clothed, and jewelry or ornaments like rings and earrings were rare. No one cared about such things.

So what did those innate spiritual treasures actually look like? Were they really just cauldrons, bells, axes, and pagodas?

Luo Zu’s thoughts spiraled.

Tang answered, “Witchfolk have their own heartland—they can swallow many things and carry them with them.”

“Heartland?”

“Uh, it’s something like this,” Tang struggled to explain.

Essentially, witchfolk could open up a space in the region of their heart, which could be used to contain their witch powers or to store items. It was like a dantian, but with more functions.

Luo Zu figured it out and nodded, letting the topic drop.

“By the way, the witchfolk are led by the Twelve Ancestral Witches. Who leads the demonfolk?” Luo Zu asked.

“The Celestial Emperor of the Heavenly Court. But the great elder once said their names must not be uttered, nor even thought of. If you’re demonfolk, it might be fine, but for witchfolk, it could bring disaster.”

“And what about us, the human tribe?” Luo Zu asked.

Tang replied, “I don’t know, because I don’t even know the name.”

Such an honest answer.

Goodness, Luo Zu didn’t dare even think about those names anymore. If he accidentally thought of the real one, would it draw their attention?

Could this primordial continent be some kind of higher-dimensional, grand primordial world, rather than the ancient one of old?

Luo Zu knew he was just a minor character now—he’d better not dwell on such things. Best to avoid pondering the names of those mighty beings.

“Can we think of the Mother Goddess’s name, then?” Luo Zu ventured.

But Tang’s expression turned sorrowful. “The Mother Goddess hasn’t answered us for many, many years now.”

She even shed two strings of tears, falling like pearls.

Luo Zu consoled her, “The Mother Goddess is endlessly busy. If you keep calling out to her, she will surely respond to us.”

“What does ‘endlessly busy’ mean?”

“…”

The conversation went on. Tang described the customs and local ways of this ancestral domain. After all, her tribe had always communicated with the outside world. There was a tacit understanding between the witch and demon clans of the wild: before any full-scale war, tribes of equal strength could fight and even obliterate each other, but larger tribes could not interfere.

However, if the victorious tribe resorted to extraordinary means—especially by concealing its true strength—such as the Enmity Pheasant tribe hiding the fact that their chieftain was a Celestial Immortal and using that to slaughter the Fiery Tribe, then it broke the rules.

Tang and her people were now fleeing to another large witch tribe to seek justice for the Fiery Tribe.

Then Luo Zu posed one final question.

“Did you see that giant? Incredibly tall, left a lake over there—he passed through not long ago,” Luo Zu asked expectantly.

Tang blinked, surprised by the question.

“The great elder said that was a Kuafu from the Kuafu Tribe.”