Chapter 70: “Worthy of Being Called the Mountain God.” |
Chapter 70: “Worthy of Being Called the Mountain God.”
It sprawled across the earth—a living, breathing mass of deep emerald green, a hill with scales and a pulse.
But what truly froze everyone in place was its sheer size.
The creature stretched several times longer than any ordinary Crocodile, its rugged, armored hide layered like ancient stone, worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain.
As the monstrous Crocodile crept closer, Zhou Mo and the others instinctively held their breath, muscles tensed. Its oppressive aura was far more visceral than even the Mourning Ghost Leader’s had been. This was a primal fear—a dread born of the knowledge that a mountain had come alive and was crawling toward them.
No one could remain calm with a hill looming ever nearer.
Forget frightening children—even grown men would be reduced to tears at the sight.
...
“Worthy of being called the Mountain God.”
If it insisted on this level of Ghoststone, there was no way he could keep feeding it. He simply couldn’t afford it.
The translucent, emerald-tinged Ghoststone traced an arc through the air before landing with a soft crack atop the Crocodile’s broad skull.
For a moment, the Crocodile seemed stunned—almost incredulous. Then its massive eyes clouded over with anger and hurt. With a low, wounded whimper, it spun around and scuttled off into the darkness.
Chen Fan had only ever heard it make two sounds.
The first was back at the foot of the cliffs, when it had unleashed a bellow so thunderous it drowned out the rain and made the earth tremble.
The second was now—a sound so faint you’d miss it if you weren’t listening for it, like a child stifling sobs after being bullied.
“Wait!”
The word escaped Chen Fan before he could stop himself. The Crocodile, as if it understood, actually paused and turned back, fixing him with a gaze full of hope. Those enormous pupils locked onto Chen Fan, unblinking.
...
Chen Fan suddenly guessed what that hope meant. He glanced at the steaming dishes on the table, hesitated, then picked up a chicken drumstick and tossed it over the Wall.
Instantly—
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The ground shook.
He watched as the Crocodile barreled toward the Wall like a living tank, only to screech to a halt just before crashing into it. It lifted its head, regarded Chen Fan warily for a moment, then, with surprising delicacy, extended a claw, plucked up the drumstick, and popped it into its mouth.
Its eyelids drooped, savoring the flavor.
It lay there, still as stone, its gaze filled with wonder and bliss.
Then, slowly, it opened its eyes again.
This time, it opened its massive jaws—revealing rows of worn, pillar-like teeth. A trickle of drool gleamed at the corner of its mouth. Its lantern-sized eyes gazed up at Chen Fan, full of anticipation.
Its tail gave a clumsy, almost sheepish wag, thumping the ground with a muffled thud.
...
Chen Fan stood there, expressionless and silent. He hadn’t expected the beast to refuse Ghoststones outright, or that it would prefer meat—especially freshly cooked, flavorful meat—over the cold flesh of Ghostbeasts.
No wonder it had stopped the moment he called out. It must have caught the scent.
He took a deep breath.
“Qi Chong.”
“Here!”
“Set up the stove and get a fire going. Roast every Ghostbeast corpse we’ve collected these past days—let it eat its fill tonight.”
“On it!”
...
A roasted Ghostbeast carcass, fragrant and charred, was tossed over the Wall.
The Crocodile, mouth agape the entire time, snatched the meat with surprising agility for something so massive. It tossed its head back and swallowed it whole, then let out a thunderous, contented rumble, opening its jaws once again, staring longingly at the Wall for the next helping.
“That’s all we’ve got.”
“You ate everything. Even the landlord’s pantry is bare.”
Chen Fan spread his hands, sighing helplessly at the Crocodile sprawled outside the Wall. Half the night had already slipped away. They hadn’t stopped grilling, roasting every Ghostbeast corpse the Camp had stockpiled just for this beast.
But its belly was a bottomless pit. No matter how much they fed it, it was never enough.
At last, its gaping jaws slowly closed. It looked up at Chen Fan, a flicker of confusion in its eyes. Then, as if struck by a thought, it turned and melted into the darkness without a backward glance.
“It’s definitely not a Ghostbeast,” Wang Kui said, watching the Crocodile’s retreating silhouette from atop the Wall. “Ghostbeasts never act so docile around humans—unless they’re those damned Impostors. And no wild animal gets that size, or eats that much. It’s strange, that’s for sure. I have no idea what it is.”
Chen Fan just shook his head and said nothing.
“But I think I know why it got so upset when you threw that Ghoststone at it, Station Master…” Zhou Mo rubbed his nose, amusement lacing his voice. “If it can’t digest Ghoststones, then to it, Ghoststones are basically… waste.”
“In other words…”
“You pelted it with shit. I’d be pissed too.”
“But it wasn’t pissed—it ran off crying.” Wang Mazi coughed awkwardly.
“Too timid. Didn’t even dare get angry. It’s just a big kid, really.”
“Wait!”
Crippled Monkey suddenly piped up, turning to Chen Fan. “Young Master, if it can’t digest Ghoststones, doesn’t that mean… there’s a ton of unclaimed Ghoststones up in the mountains?”
“It’s possible,” Chen Fan nodded thoughtfully. “But odds are, other Ghostbeasts would snatch them up and swallow them. If it doesn’t eat Ghoststones, the others probably do.”
He tapped his chin, lost in thought.
He remembered, not long after he’d arrived in this world, a Monkey-Head Ghostbeast Leader had died just outside the Camp’s range. By morning, the body was still there—no one had dug out the Ghoststone. Maybe… the other Ghostbeasts instinctively avoided the territory of more powerful ones. Even among Ghostbeasts, there seemed to be a sense of territory, of Domain.
He let the thought drop and looked out past the Wall. “Everyone, go get some sleep. We’ve got work to do tomorrow. No need for sentries the rest of the night.”
“The Wall’s up to Level 3 now. We’ll be fine. Get some real rest tonight.”
Just then—
Boom.
The sound of a Ghostbeast falling from the cliffs echoed up from the canyon below.
Then, in rapid succession, came a barrage of crashes, like firecrackers—ten, fifty, a hundred, hundreds…
One after another, Ghostbeasts plummeted into the abyss in a relentless cascade.
Far more than any night before.
Wilder. Crazier.
It went on for the time it takes an incense stick to burn. When it finally ceased, the canyon floor was heaped with Ghostbeast corpses—at least five or six hundred by Chen Fan’s estimate. Amid the carnage, he caught flashes of white light—Unique Treasures gleaming among the bodies!
The group stood frozen atop the Wall, faces blank with shock, staring at the scene below.
Then, another tremor shook the gorge. The giant Crocodile thundered out of the darkness, barreling to its usual spot beneath the Wall. It sprawled out, jaws wide in anticipation, eyes fixed hopefully on Chen Fan.
Drool dripped from its fangs, pooling on the ground.
Its tail slapped the earth, sending up sprays of rain and mist.
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