Chapter 4

Zong Sang led Zong Ya and three other tribal warriors out of the village, following the mountain stream downstream. He wanted to see if the flood from the previous day had washed down any good things from the deep mountains. He didn't expect Chen Xun, who had been missing all night, to have the greatest harvest.

This black-scaled strange beast must weigh around three thousand pounds. Carrying it after it emerged from the water was very inconvenient, let alone having to cross several mountain ridges to return to the village. Zong Sang sent one of the warriors back to the village to call for more help.

"Did you spend the whole night out of sight just to drag this thing back? Couldn't you have come back first to report?" Zong Ya had been worried all night about Chen Xun's absence, and he couldn't believe that Chen Xun had spent the night just for this dead beast.

"This thing was washed to Wild Horse Creek by the flood." Chen Xun, slightly recovering, struggled to sit up.

"..." Zong Ya smacked his lips for a long time before finally saying, "You really don't care about your life."

He knew that the area along Wild Horse Creek was the activity range of the Black Mountain tribe. If Chen Xun had returned to report first, this black-scaled strange beast might have already been discovered by the Black Mountain tribe. However, he still found it hard to imagine how the thin and weak Chen Xun could have dragged this black-scaled beast for twenty to thirty miles in the water.

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The people of the Black Python tribe had lived in the mountains since childhood. Trained warriors could traverse the mountains and ridges faster than apes.

After a moment, the warrior who went back to report returned with six or seven others.

Zong Ya saw that those who came with Grandfather Zong Tu were all important figures in the village, which made him even more certain that the black-scaled beast Chen Xun dragged back was no ordinary creature.

"Heaven! It's really a black-scaled Jiao. The ancestors of the Black Python tribe are protecting us!"

Unlike the tall and muscular warriors of the Black Python tribe, Zong Tu, the tribal shaman, was a withered old man. Usually calm, his voice trembled when he saw the black-scaled beast lying on the riverbank. His bony hands, like chicken claws, gripped a bone staff that had a glossy patina, trembling with excitement.

A black-scaled Jiao?

On Earth, land animals with scales were rare, but in this world, there were many scaled beasts.

Chen Xun had even seen a scaled giant bird in Python Tooth Ridge that could tear a four to five thousand-pound wild bull to pieces with one claw.

However, Chen Xun never expected that the black-scaled beast he dragged back was a Jiao!

The "Western Wilderness Classic" described the Jiao beast as having "a bull's head, a horse's body, and blue-gray scales, with strength like a dragon."

Young Jiao beasts have blue scales, which darken with age, but almost no one had ever seen a Jiao with black scales. It was unknown how many years it had lived in the depths of Python Tooth Ridge.

Who would have thought that this black-scaled Jiao would be struck by lightning in the depths of Mount Tu and washed down by the flood?

Truly, the will of heaven is unpredictable, and the power of heaven is unfathomable!

"Is it really a black-scaled Jiao?" Zong Sang had guessed it might be a Jiao, but hearing his father Zong Tu say this, he became hesitant and asked, "Does that mean our Black Python tribe can hold another beast feast and ancestor worship ceremony?"

Zong Tu, slightly calmer, bared his black, missing teeth and smiled at his son Zong Sang.

"Thirty years ago, you were too young to remember. Back then, the Black Python tribe held a beast feast and ancestor worship ceremony after hunting a young blue-scaled Jiao. This Jiao's head is half gone, but look at its hooves, its teeth, and its naturally patterned scales. Do you think I could be wrong?"

Zong Tu then turned and took two Black Python pills from his chest, handing them to Chen Xun.

"Chen Xun, you've done a great service to the Black Python tribe. How can Grandfather thank you?"

Chen Xun, embarrassed, scratched his head and smiled, waving the two Black Python pills in his hand. "This is enough!"

Although the Black Python tribe was not a cannibalistic tribe, they would not casually take in strangers of unknown origin.

The harsh living environment and the long-standing feuds between tribes made them wary of outsiders.

Even three years ago, when Chen Xun looked like a harmless ten-year-old, the Black Python tribe, who were starving their own children, had no spare resources to take in an outsider.

Most of the Black Python tribe wanted to drive Chen Xun away and let him fend for himself, but it was the shaman Zong Tu who insisted on taking him in.

How could he repay such a favor?

Over the past three years, Zong Tu, limited by ancestral rules, did not teach Chen Xun the ways of a warrior, but he taught him to read and write the tribal language and to identify herbs, all with great care.

Chen Xun, like Zong Ya, called Zong Tu Grandfather and regarded Zong Tu, Zong Sang, and Zong Ya as his family.

Even though he was extremely eager to learn the Black Python tribe's warrior techniques, he would not use his contributions to demand anything, making Zong Tu's position difficult.

"Indeed, it is a Jiao beast!"

The other leaders of the Black Python tribe who came with Zong Tu still remembered the soul worship ceremony held after capturing a young Jiao thirty years ago. Although the black-scaled Jiao on the riverbank had half its head blown off by lightning, they could still confirm it was a Jiao, and they were all overwhelmed with joy.

Zong Tu knew Chen Xun's desire to learn the Black Python tribe's warrior techniques, but seeing the other leaders' reluctance to teach an outsider, he sighed. Two Black Python pills could never compare to this black-scaled Jiao.

As a shaman, he could not go against the will of the leaders, but he thought about finding other ways to compensate Chen Xun.

Nan Liao, the chief of the Black Python tribe, was a giant taller than Zong Sang.

His cheeks were tattooed with black and blue python heads, and his exposed, muscular arms were covered in blue veins that extended to his chest, which was covered in black hair, making him look like he was covered in snake scales from a distance.

Nan Liao held a black, polished steel spear, exuding immense strength, as if he could launch it like a bolt of lightning at any moment.

He glanced at Chen Xun, said nothing, but was overwhelmed with joy, pondering the cause of the black-scaled Jiao's death.

"How did this Jiao get struck by lightning? Did this beast think it could resist the lightning and go to the mountain ridge during a storm to seek its own death?"

"May the ancestors protect us, but do not show disrespect to the Jiao," Zong Tu said solemnly. "Legend has it that after a thousand years, wild beasts absorb the essence of heaven and earth and can form a demon core. This Jiao has roamed the mountains for three to five hundred years. Perhaps it was at a critical stage of cultivation, trying to draw lightning to temper its body, and was unexpectedly struck by lightning. If not for the protection of our ancestors, a Jiao demon might have emerged in the Northern Ridge..."

Hearing Zong Tu's words, everyone felt a chill.

Although a Jiao beast is powerful, if it dares to leave the mountains, the upper-level warriors and even the heavenly warriors of the surrounding tribes could unite to destroy it. However, if a Jiao demon were to emerge in the depths of Python Tooth Ridge, the surrounding areas might no longer be habitable.

On the other hand, the flesh and blood of these strange beasts are great treasures. If this black-scaled Jiao had reached the stage of drawing lightning to temper its body, its flesh and bones would be extremely pure.

"If we could capture a live Jiao, it would be even better. Thirty years ago, the Black Python tribe captured a live young Jiao, right?" Zong Sang, still feeling unsatisfied, licked his thick lips and said.

"Think about capturing a live Jiao when you become a heavenly warrior," Zong Tu said with a grim smile, seeing Zong Sang's greed.

"How many heavenly warriors are there among the hundreds of tribes around Python Tooth Ridge?" Nan Liao said with a sigh. "This time, it is truly the protection of the ancestors."

Zong Tu said, "This Jiao has only been dead for a day, and its soul has not completely dissipated. You all guard the area while I seal the remaining soul. In three days, we will hold the soul worship ceremony, which will be even more effective..."

Hearing the shaman Zong Tu's words, Zong Sang, Nan Liao, and the other strong warriors dispersed to guard the area.

Zong Tu then had his grandson Zong Ya carry Chen Xun to a distance. He raised his bone staff and began to chant strange, mysterious syllables.

Most of the Black Python tribe's warriors were strong, physical warriors, but Zong Tu was a rare shaman warrior.

Chen Xun, having been taken in by Zong Tu for three years, had rarely seen him use shaman techniques.

At this moment, being carried to a distance, he did not miss this opportunity. Despite his injuries, he lay in the grass and watched Zong Tu perform the shaman technique.

As Zong Tu's chanting grew louder, the bone staff, which usually looked ordinary, seemed to gather a mysterious force, drawing the morning light to form a faint python-shaped shadow behind Zong Tu's thin figure.

The python-shaped shadow was enormous, nearly ten meters tall, exuding a terrifying aura.

As Zong Tu continued to chant, the python-shaped shadow became more solid, and the cold, gleaming scales became visible, exuding a stronger and stronger aura, stirring the air and quickly forming a fierce wind.

Is this the Black Python soul that the shaman Zong Tu has enlightened?

Under the pressure of Zong Tu's Black Python soul, Chen Xun's consciousness was severely impacted, like a tidal wave. When the python-shaped shadow pounced on the black-scaled Jiao, the dead Jiao began to tremble violently.

Although there was no sound, Chen Xun could hear the Jiao's residual soul roaring in defiance in his mind.

The roars quickly formed a powerful wave, crashing against Chen Xun's consciousness.

Chen Xun felt immense pressure, his head almost bursting, and he was almost knocked unconscious by the continuous waves of impact.

Zong Ya, beside him, also had his muscles tensed, silently enduring the impact of the Jiao's residual soul.

Chen Xun gritted his teeth and struggled to hold on. He didn't know how long it took, but eventually, the Jiao's body slowly calmed down, and the residual soul's roars in his mind faded away, as if nothing had happened.

Is the residual soul sealed?

Is the sealed residual soul used for the soul worship ceremony?

Chen Xun's mind was filled with questions. He never expected that a dead Jiao's residual soul could still have such power, requiring the shaman Zong Tu to use all his strength to seal it. If it were alive, it would be even more astonishing.

Sweat beads the size of soybeans rolled down Zong Tu's wrinkled forehead. He thought to himself that he was truly getting old. He directed several warriors to bring logs and ropes to prepare to carry the nearly three-thousand-pound beast back to the village, crossing the mountains and ridges.