Chapter 251: The Qilin Horn People
Chapter 251: The Qilin Horn People
The cold wind howled mercilessly across the plateau, its icy breath biting at everything in its path.
Ji Xinghuo sat astride Qinghong, his eyes scanning the endless expanse of raging winds that obscured the frost-covered ground. As far as the eye could see, the distant mountains were capped with snow, their peaks shrouded in a misty haze that spoke of hardship and grandeur.
"Brr..."
He exhaled, rubbing his hands together to generate a semblance of warmth, and grumbled, "Damn this weather!"
It had been ten days since he left Tianzui Cliff, and the middle of "Fog Month" brought with it a chill that permeated the air even during the daytime, with temperatures hovering around minus ten degrees Celsius.
While the low temperatures were bearable, the relentless wind was another matter.
The biting wind cut through his body like knives, and his disguise as a highlander offered little protection. The armor he wore provided no insulation, and the bearskin cloak only covered half of his body, leaving his beard frosted over.
Despite his robust physique, which made him immune to sickness, the conditions were still uncomfortable.
"Damn, this wind is driving me crazy," Ji Xinghuo muttered to himself, pulling his cloak tighter around him as he directed Qinghong to change direction and continue the search.
The electromagnetic induction continued to scan the terrain and detect any movement within a five-kilometer radius. As the weather turned colder, many beasts and monsters became less active or entered hibernation. Their stationary state made it more challenging to distinguish their magnetic fields, requiring extra vigilance and attention to detail.
Over the past few days, Ji Xinghuo had encountered several monsters and dispatched them with ease, collecting some spiritual source energy along the way.
However, he had yet to come across the elusive Windstorm Beast.
The nights grew longer, with starlit hours shrinking to less than two, making nighttime travel inadvisable and further reducing his daily search time.
His efficiency had taken a significant hit.
As evening approached, Ji Xinghuo's efforts still yielded nothing. With the sun about to dip below the horizon, he decided to find a place to set up camp for the night.
The nights were colder than the days, with temperatures plunging to minus twenty degrees Celsius.
"And this is just Fog Month," Ji Xinghuo remarked, shaking his head. "It'll only get colder in Frost Month and Cold Month."
As he scouted for a suitable camping spot, something caught his attention, prompting him to urge Qinghong to travel a few kilometers further.
In the distance, a small tribe nestled at the foot of a towering peak came into view.
The tribe was modest in size, with a population unlikely to exceed ten thousand. The houses, constructed from stone and timber, were intricate and neatly arranged, climbing up the mountainside in a terraced fashion. A stone wall encircled the tribe, standing at a mere fifteen meters tall. While it offered little protection against the numerous exotic races of the plateau, who could easily scale it, the wall nonetheless provided a sense of security.
Piercing through the cold wind, Ji Xinghuo's gaze fell upon the tribe's inhabitants.
"The Qilin Horn people!"
"No wonder this tribe looks different."
The Pronghorns were one of the exotic races inhabiting the Bloodsoaked Plateau, and their numbers were considerable. However, their racial gifts paled in comparison to those of the Highlanders and the Ursine Tribe, and their temperament was less aggressive, leaving them in a position of weakness.
The most distinctive feature of this race was the pair of horns that adorned the heads of each member. These horns varied in shape, with some straight, others curved or spiraled, creating a diverse array of unique formations.
Their skin tones predominantly consisted of shades of gray, blue, and purple, and both males and females sported facial hair. Their legs had three joints, and they possessed short tails. The Horned people boasted exceptional hearing and vision, agile physiques, and most favored evolutionary paths that emphasized speed and assassination.
The tribe followed the star god "Elk Prophet" and was known for its peaceful disposition.
They were also open to interacting with outsiders.
Ji Xinghuo had encountered the Antelope Horn people frequently during his time at Tianzui Cliff, allowing him to gain some understanding of their ways.
"Maybe I can inquire about the Windstorm Beast here," he mused, deciding to take a chance with this Pronghorn tribe. "Even if I don't find any information, at least I can spend a warm night in the tribe."
He dismounted from Qinghong and instructed it to shrink and crawl into his waist pouch.
Ever since he had disguised himself as a highlander, he continued to ride Qinghong but made sure to hide it whenever he encountered others.
Ji Xinghuo trudged through the frost, braving the bitter wind as he approached the Pronghorn Tribe.
Night had fallen, and the tribe was illuminated by flickering fires. As he drew closer to the stone wall, still a hundred meters away, a voice rang out from above.
"Halt!"
Ji Xinghuo looked up to see several horned heads peering over the wall, their faces illuminated by the torches they held. Wariness was evident in their eyes.
"Highlander, what brings you here?" one of the male Pronghorn guards asked.
"Passing through and seeking shelter for the night," Ji Xinghuo replied, deliberately lowering his voice to a deep rumble.
Before leaving Tianzui Cliff, he had already mastered the language of the Highlanders.
It was a branch of "Xin Yalaku," his university major, and he had picked it up with ease. However, he was not yet fluent in the accent and colloquialisms, so he feigned taciturnity to minimize conversation and avoid detection.
The Highlander language was not entirely uniform, having evolved into numerous dialects with distinct differences. Even if he made a mistake, it was unlikely to be noticed.
The language of the Antler people was also a variation of Xin Yalaku, enabling communication between them.
"Highlander, the Blue Leaf Tribe does not welcome you," one of the Pronghorn sentries on the wall declared loudly. "You have ten breaths to leave, or we will show you no mercy."
Several guards brandished their weapons threateningly.
"Hmm."
Ji Xinghuo clicked his tongue, a hint of helplessness in his eyes.
His blood-red tattoos marked him as a bloodthirsty follower of the Red Emperor, and the Qilin Horn people were often the targets of such zealots' massacres. It was no surprise they were reluctant to grant him entry.
Changing his attire would have solved the problem, but the dye he used for his disguise had seeped into his skin, making it difficult to wash off.
Ji Xinghuo didn't say another word and turned to leave.
Just as his figure was about to fade into the darkness, a voice called down from above the wall, "Welcome, traveler from afar. Please enter the Blue Leaf Tribe."
Ji Xinghuo turned back and saw that the speaker was a female Pronghorn.
She was shorter than most of her tribesmen, only a little over five feet tall. A pair of spiral horns adorned the sides of her head, and she wore a simple fur robe. Although her face was unreadable, the white beard on her chin hinted at her advanced age.
"Elder," the surrounding Pronghorn guards addressed her respectfully, their faces filled with confusion.
"Open the gate," the elder, referred to as the Prophet, waved her hand, ordering the guards to open the gate without further explanation.
As soon as she finished speaking, her figure disappeared.
Soon, the large gate below the stone wall opened, and Ji Xinghuo entered the tribe under the wary gazes of the Pronghorn guards.
"Highlander, follow me," the male Pronghorn guard who had initially turned him away said in a low voice, "The Prophet has instructed me to arrange a place for you to stay the night."
"Thank you," Ji Xinghuo nodded.
He glanced at the guard, assessing his strength to be quite good. He was probably a recent promotion to the fourth stage, wearing a fitted leather armor with two oddly shaped daggers at his waist. His movements were light and almost silent, indicating proficiency in shadow blade or swift step techniques.
Walking through the Blue Leaf Tribe, Ji Xinghuo noticed that it was very different from the tribes of other races on the plateau.
The most noticeable difference was its exceptional cleanliness.
The ground was paved with stone slabs, swept clean, and the houses on both sides were neatly arranged. There was no garbage in front of any house, and underground drainage and sewage facilities had been installed. Flower beds and trees lined the streets, creating small parks where many young Pronghorn children played happily.
Although it didn't appear prosperous, the tribe gave off a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere.
The guide, White Blade, was well-liked, and most people seemed to know him.
"White Blade!"
"Uncle White Blade!"
The Pronghorns they met along the way smiled and greeted him, but their smiles froze when they saw Ji Xinghuo following behind him, turning to looks of shock.
Some of the Pronghorns even screamed and ran away in a fluster.
Others immediately drew their weapons, demanding anxiously, "White Blade, what's going on? Why did you bring a follower of the Red Emperor into the tribe?"
"It's the Prophet's order," White Blade explained.
Hearing that it was the Prophet's decision, the fear in the Pronghorns' eyes lessened slightly, but they still eyed Ji Xinghuo warily, their faces full of hostility.
On the contrary, some of the younger Pronghorns dared to approach Ji Xinghuo out of curiosity.
One even threw a pebble at him.
White Blade was startled and quickly stopped the child. However, when he saw that Ji Xinghuo didn't get angry and his expression remained unchanged, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Soon, they arrived at a two-story stone house, and White Blade said, "This is the only inn in our tribe, used for accommodating foreign guests. You will stay here for the night, and you'll have to pay for your accommodation and meals."
Ji Xinghuo nodded.
White Blade led him into the inn, where there were already a few foreign guests dining in the main hall.
When they saw Ji Xinghuo enter, their faces twitched slightly.
"Welcome, esteemed guest!"
The innkeeper was an elderly Pronghorn with a hoarse, weathered voice. He had a pair of straight, long horns, but his face was unmarked, and he offered Ji Xinghuo a warm smile.
"Uncle Root, I'll leave him to you," White Blade said a few words and left, clearly not wanting to stay too long in the company of a follower of the Red Emperor.
The innkeeper, addressed as Uncle Root, continued with his duties without a change in expression, efficiently arranging a room and dinner for Ji Xinghuo.
Closing the door to his room, Ji Xinghuo looked around the simply furnished yet cozy space and lay down on the comfortable bed. After washing away the grime of the past ten days, he put on his armor again, just as Uncle Root brought in a delicious-smelling grilled meat dish.
"Please enjoy your meal, guest," Uncle Root bowed and turned to leave.
"Wait,"
Ji Xinghuo called him back, and though Uncle Root's expression froze for a moment, he quickly regained his smile and asked respectfully, "Is there anything else the guest requires?"
"Windstorm Beast,"
Ji Xinghuo said only two words, but his meaning was clear.
He took out a silver True Dragon Coin worth a thousand from his waist pouch and tossed it to the innkeeper.
Uncle Root caught the coin and looked at it happily, but then shook his head with difficulty, "There are indeed Windstorm Beasts near our tribe, and many young people go out to search for them, but I haven't been to the mountains in many years and can't guide you."
"Find someone who can, and I'll pay," Ji Xinghuo said.
"Okay."
Uncle Root agreed, and although he looked reluctant, he returned the True Dragon Coin, which Ji Xinghuo refused, saying, "Keep it."
"Praise your generosity!" Uncle Root left happily.
Ji Xinghuo had just finished his dinner when someone knocked on his door. The innkeeper returned with White Blade in tow.
"Highlander, I know where the Windstorm Beasts are, but I can't take you there," White Blade said as soon as he entered the room, getting straight to the point.
(End of Chapter)
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