HPDBC 215. Who’s Naming These Things?
215. Who’s Naming These Things?
Jin Shu crested the mountain path he’d been climbing for nearly two hours. The terrain ahead leveled out into a broad stretch of flat mountain rock. At its center rose another mountain—one that stretched impossibly high, vanishing into the clouds above.They’d mentioned it during the beast extermination mission.
The True Demon Mountain.
According to rumor, a true demon lived at its peak, sealed away behind an impenetrable barrier.
Jin Shu wasn’t sure how much of that was exaggeration, but it didn’t concern him. His mother’s map didn’t require him to climb the mountain—only to circle its base and locate a cave that would lead him beneath the range and into the southern region.
“Let’s see…” Jin Shu studied the map briefly. “Looks like the cave’s on the eastern side.”
He put the map away and headed toward the eastern base of the True Demon Mountain.
Partway there, he kicked a loose stone. It rolled forward and clattered into a pile of rocks.
“Oops.”
He barely spared it another thought and kept walking.
Then he heard it.
A harsh, grating sound—stone scraping against stone.
Jin Shu turned around.
The pile of rocks had shifted, rising into something that vaguely resembled a humanoid figure, its body formed from pebbles, stone plates, and jagged chunks of mountain rock.
“A Rock Man,” Nano said. “They are formed from mountain stone and possess the strength of a Body Realm martial arts practitioner.”
“Uh… weaker than I expected,” Jin Shu muttered.
He stepped forward and punched it.
The Rock Man exploded into hundreds of scattered fragments.
“They cannot be killed and usually appear in groups of hundreds,” Nano continued.
“Oh… right. I remember that part.”
Jin Shu glanced around as nearby piles of rocks began to stir. The one he’d just shattered pulled itself back together piece by piece.
“It also said they’re incredibly slow and just as dumb, right?”
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
He turned and continued on his way.
The Rock Men lumbered after him, awkward and uncoordinated. Even at a brisk walking pace, Jin Shu easily outdistanced them.
That was fine—until they started throwing rocks.
Jin Shu scowled as a stone sailed past him, dredging up unpleasant memories involving a forest, an angry squirrel, and an even angrier tiger.
“Do you all remember that winged tiger?” he asked.
“The one back home?” Shuang replied. “In the forest below the Black Mountain?”
“Yeah. That one.”
“What about it?”
“Well…” Jin Shu hesitated. “That wasn’t Yin’er’s mom… was it?”
Shuang blinked inside the soul space, caught off guard.
“Uh… no.”
“How can you be sure?”
“First of all, it was a male tiger. And Yin’er isn’t actually a winged tiger cub. I’m not sure what she is, but she’s definitely not a mundane winged tiger.”
“Oh.” Jin Shu paused. “Oh! I always thought we were the reason she didn’t have a mother…”
“We might still be,” Shuang said dryly. “We did bind her to our soul before she even hatched—and stole her from her nest.”
“Uuugh…” Jin Shu groaned. “Let’s change the subject.”
He dodged another thrown rock. “Seriously, who names these creatures? Forest Rhino. Forest Python. Rock Man. Zero intimidation factor.”
“What would you name them?” Gold asked.
Jin Shu considered it. “Well… the book said the vines on the rhino are a rare herb that only grows from the dirt between the armor plates of their skin. So…” He brightened. “Herb-Armored Rhino?”
Gold and Shuang immediately burst out laughing.
“What?” Jin Shu protested. “It’s better than Forest Rhino, right?”
“Who are you trying to scare?” Shuang wheezed. “Children who hate vegetables?”
“Then you come up with something!”
“Fine. Pseudo-Tree Python.”
“…Not as funny,” Jin Shu admitted. “But honestly? I still prefer Forest Python.”
“So do I,” Gold said.
Jin Shu sighed. “Naming things is harder than it looks.”
“Sounds,” Shuang corrected.
“What sound?” Jin Shu immediately perked up, straining his ears for anything beyond the hundreds of Rock Men scraping their heavy limbs across the mountainside.
“No. I mean you used the wrong word,” Shuang said patiently. “It’s harder than it sounds, not looks.”
“…Uh. Okay?”
Jin Shu shook his head and moved on.
The cave was already visible in the distance—wide, yawning, and filled with inky darkness that swallowed all light. It looked profoundly unwelcoming.
“I swear, if there’s some kind of Cave-named creature in there…”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
The Rock Men had stopped far behind him. One by one, they turned and began lumbering back the way they’d come.
“…I really hope that’s because they got bored,” Jin Shu muttered, “and not because they’re afraid of what’s in this cave.”
“Don’t jinx us,” Shuang warned.
Jin Shu opened his mouth to reply—and froze.
A thunderous roar echoed from deep within the cave, followed by a blast of hot wind that carried a foul stench with it.
“Ugh,” Jin Shu grimaced. “Smells like rotten eggs. Is that sulfur?”
“No,” Gold said quietly. “That’s the smell of death.”
Jin Shu swallowed. “Cool. Love that.”
He hesitated. “Any chance there’s another path?”
“According to the map,” Shuang said, “the far side of the mountain is a sheer drop. The only other descent is hundreds of miles away.”
“…Fantastic.”
With a resigned sigh, Jin Shu checked his loadout—rifle secure, magazines full, equipment ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.
He had no idea what waited inside.
But he was absolutely certain it wasn’t anything good.
“Well,” he muttered, “let’s do this, chumps. Leroy—”
“Don’t,” Gold snapped.
Jin Shu stumbled mid-step. “What?”
“If you shout that, we’re doomed.”
“…You’re no fun,” Jin Shu grumbled. “Fine.”
Rolling his eyes, he slipped quietly into the deep, damp cavern—ready for whatever nightmare waited in its depths.
A small explosion rocked the nearby sand dunes, triggering a miniature avalanche as crimson sand cascaded downward.
A woman in a bright green tank top and matching shorts flipped backward from the heart of the blast. She adjusted the strap that had slipped off her shoulder during the movement, landing lightly on her feet.
“Eee!”
The high-pitched screech drowned out the fading echo of the explosion.
Another violent surge of sand erupted as a massive brownish-red scorpion burst from beneath the avalanche, its armored body tearing through the dunes.
Biyu raised a veil of transparent green qi, shielding her eyes as the Fire-Sand Scorpion kicked up a raging sandstorm.
Through the swirling grit, the scorpion’s many maleficent eyes locked onto her. Its stinger twitched, liquid fire dripping from the tip and melting the sand beneath into glossy sheets of glass.
The smoke curling from the flames carried a sharp, poisonous stench.
The scorpion lunged.
Its pincers snapped forward as the blazing stinger arced down—
A spiderweb fell from the sky.
The thick strands wrapped around the scorpion mid-leap, locking it in place.
Snap.
Crimson fire raced across the web, instantly roasting the trapped scorpion as it screeched in agony. From the burning corpse, green energy flowed like liquid, spiraling through the air before slipping into the open mouth of a white-and-red–haired woman clad in flowing silk robes of matching colors.
“Mmh. Delicious.”
She licked her lips languidly, savoring the remnants of her kill.
“Bai Wang, thanks for the assist,” Biyu said as she stepped beside her guardian spirit.
Bai Wang reached out with her second pair of arms, plucking a strand of the lingering green energy from the air. She cupped it between her palms, condensing it into a glowing sphere of liquid vitality before handing it to Biyu.
“No problem,” she said lightly. “Eat this. It’ll strengthen your life energy.”
Biyu eyed the sphere for a moment before carefully placing it into her mouth.
She’d been skeptical the first time Bai Wang had offered her one of the strange orbs—but after discovering it enhanced her cultivation without side effects, she’d begun to look forward to them whenever Bai Wang used her special fire.
“Thanks,” Biyu said, licking her lips, wishing there were more.
“You know I’d give you more if I could,” Bai Wang replied. “But too much unfiltered life energy would be fatal for a human body—even with your physique producing such pure vitality.”
“I know,” Biyu said with a smile. “I won’t be greedy.”
Bai Wang nodded. Then she rolled her shoulder back and readied a black harpoon in her primary arms.
She loosed it.
The weapon tore through a sand dune and pinned a second scorpion on the far side—killing it instantly.
“You’re really only First Stage Spirit Realm?” Biyu asked, feeling the residual aura of a Fifth Stage Spirit Realm beast bleed from the corpse.
“I was a Third Stage Adept Realm Broodqueen,” Bai Wang said calmly. “But yes—now that we share cultivation, I am in the Spirit Realm.”
She extended her hand toward the scorpion’s corpse.
The black harpoon tore itself free, reversing through the air and snapping neatly into her waiting palm. She ran her fingers along its shaft with unmistakable affection before turning away, striding across the sand toward another group locked in battle with Fire-Sand Scorpions.
Biyu fell into step just behind her. “Jin Shu would be so jealous if he knew how powerful his weapon’s become.”
Bai Wang’s head snapped around. “He can’t have it—it’s mine!”
Biyu immediately raised her hands in surrender. “Relax. I’m not taking it. And knowing him, he’s probably already made something even more ridiculous and somehow even more powerful.”
“Oh shit!” Jin Shu shouted as he scrambled away from a massive, scaled tail sweeping across the cave floor.
He rolled into a crouch, snapped his rifle up, and fired a short burst into the creature’s flank. The muzzle flash tore through the darkness, briefly illuminating a gigantic, furious lizard.
The rounds sparked uselessly off its armor-thick brown scales.
“I really wish I had a more powerful weapon right now,” Jin Shu grunted as he dove clear of the tail once more.