Thinking of a centipede, I was on high alert, preparing some strategy to deal with such a colossal creature. Yet, as the rustling sound drew nearer, the Karmic Fire in my hand remained stubbornly still.
While I pondered this, a furry head suddenly poked out from behind a massive, azure crystal pillar. This thing was covered head to toe in white fur, with particularly voluminous hair around its head, making it resemble a white lion’s mane.
Its head was larger than a car tire, and as it cautiously emerged, it seemed remarkably timid. Perhaps ‘timid’ isn’t the right word; many animals conceal themselves carefully, making no sound before a hunt.
I thought this creature might already be in full predatory mode. I, too, remained rooted to the spot, observing its every move.
The world inside this gate actually possessed light; those blue ice pillars were still glowing, though far dimmer than the outside light. Moments ago, peering through the crack, the interior seemed pitch black simply because my eyes hadn't adjusted to the change in illumination.
Now I could see that this place wasn't just illuminated, but rather a complex environment where lush vines grew intertwined with the crystal pillars, allowing them to coexist. I estimated the temperature here was at least ten degrees Celsius, yet the surrounding ice remained unmelted.
Gazing at the furry thing, my mind wandered through a jumble of thoughts, completely forgetting the lurking danger. The creature, in turn, seemed equally intrigued by me, watching intently before tilting its head in a gesture that looked remarkably like playing cute.
I couldn't help but wonder what on earth this thing was; I had never encountered such a life form before. Its face was so densely covered in fur that I couldn't make out its features, and I couldn't help but think it might resemble the white cat I once kept.
Just as this thought crossed my mind, a sudden, sharp gust of cold wind blew through the door crack. The wind was fierce, and squeezed by the narrow opening, it became highly focused.
As a result, the gust blasted away all the fur covering the creature’s face. And then I saw it—this thing was an absolute darling.
It possessed enormous, round eyes that looked like polished black crystal, a very flat but intensely pink nose, and a mouth curved upwards in a wide arc. Two sharp fangs jutted out from its lower lip, yet they failed to diminish its adorable appearance in the slightest.
Seeing it like this, despite knowing its strong jaw suggested a carnivore, its harmless demeanor significantly lowered my guard. Noticing it was still staring, I sighed and casually spoke, “Xiao Bai, have you seen enough?
What do you want?” The creature showed no surprise at hearing my voice but continued its display of charm, tilting its head the other way. I mused that a truly dangerous beast, upon seeing my slightest movement, would have either pounced or howled; this lack of reaction suggested it harbored no hostility toward me.
Completely relaxed, I pulled a compressed ration bar from my carry-on case, broke off a small piece, tossed it to the ground, and said, “If you’re hungry, have some of this. It’s very tasty!” The creature tilted its head again, extended a semi-circular, short tongue to lick its lips, and stared fixedly at the biscuit on the floor, seemingly hesitant.
I spread my hands; clearly, this was a gourmand, but as a wild animal, its caution level must also be high. The best approach in this situation was for me to step aside, pretend to leave, and wait for it to emerge and eat.
I recalled how raccoons, when encountered in the wild, displayed even greater wariness; we used the exact same tactic—retreating to capture clear observational photos for academic papers. This thing, though bigger, was probably just as harmless as a raccoon.
So, I employed the old trick again. I glanced around and declared, “Oops, I haven’t scouted the surroundings clearly yet.
This won’t do; I’ll check over there!” With that, I walked toward a dense cluster of plants that resembled Dragon’s Blood trees, growing vigorously from a crack in the wall. As I walked, I kept glancing back, monitoring the creature’s actions.
And sure enough, it watched me without blinking. Once I was a safe distance away, it stuck out its tongue again and moved its body further out from behind the pillar.
I took one look and nearly shouted out in alarm. Because the creature’s body was not supported by four legs like a cat or dog, but rather possessed countless legs, much like a caterpillar.
Moreover, just like a caterpillar, it had an extremely long, plump body, supported by dozens of pairs of short, snowman-like stubby feet that looked profoundly clumsy. I sweated profusely in my mind, realizing this was what I had been looking at—it wasn't a centipede at all; it was more like the dragon in a traditional Dragon Dance!
Or perhaps, it bore a resemblance to the legendary Nian beast, appearing surprisingly simple and honest. It crept stealthily toward the biscuit, sniffed it cautiously, and then darted a wary look back in my direction.
I pretended not to notice anything and continued walking ahead, humming a tune. Only then did the creature extend its tongue and curl the biscuit into its mouth.
I heard the faint, crisp sound of chewing and felt immensely satisfied, secretly delighted. The creature ate with clear enjoyment, finishing in a few bites, licking the residue from its mouth, and then cleaning the spot on the ground impeccably.
Then, perhaps overwhelmed by the deliciousness, it rolled on the ground in sheer happiness; its elongated body was a truly formidable tool for cuteness. I knew that even if it had developed a shred of goodwill toward me, I shouldn't turn back and disturb it now, or it would likely flee.
So, I continued toward the Dragon’s Blood grass and stopped before the thicket to observe the strange flora. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that the plant’s roots were covered against the wall like animal fur, and numerous blood-red nodules sprouted from them, giving the sight a distinctly eerie quality.
This made me realize that the plants here didn't seem to be simple flora; they all appeared to possess characteristics of animals. With that thought, I glanced back at the furry entity and wondered if this creature was just a giant Cordyceps fungus in disguise.
If so, I’d struck gold today. Just as I was considering this, I suddenly felt something tugging at my trouser leg.
Startled, I spun around quickly and saw the creature sprawled on the ground, gently pulling at my cuff. Seeing it meant no harm, I asked, “What are you up to, you thing?” It lifted its head, looked at me, then glanced at my carry-on case, and licked its lips again.
I instantly understood: it wanted more compressed biscuits. I pointed at the case and said, “No, I can’t give you any more.
This is my supply; if you eat it, I’ll starve.” I gestured emphatically as I spoke, ensuring my meaning was clear. Incredibly, the creature seemed to grasp my words; it let out a soft, low murmur toward me, then twisted its round body and turned away.
I actually wanted to call it back; it had been quite friendly, and I could likely secure other food sources even if I gave it the biscuits. I felt I had hurt its feelings now.
But just as I prepared to call out, it crawled a short distance forward and stopped in front of a cluster of plants that looked particularly odd. The plant resembled a succulent like a cactus, branching into five distinct points.
It bore no thorns but was covered in numerous round protuberances. The white-furred animal I dubbed Xiao Bai began frantically digging at the ground with its foremost pair of claws, scraping away the thin layer of ice to reveal dark soil beneath.
It then completely unearthed the roots of the entire plant and lifted the whole thing into its mouth. At that moment, I noticed the cactus-like plant writhing all over, much like a fish just pulled from the water.
However, after a few spasms, it stopped moving, and its originally green surface gradually faded to white. Xiao Bai carried this object over to me and nudged it with its nose, gesturing for me to take it.
I pointed at the object and asked, “Are you trading this for something?” Xiao Bai didn’t seem to comprehend my words, simply continuing to push the object toward my feet with its nose. I had no choice but to pick up the cactus-like thing.
It felt hard and intensely cold, not at all like a tasty meal, so I questioned, “Can this really be eaten?” Xiao Bai ceased its actions, simply looking up at me with its tongue slightly out. I nodded and relented, “Alright, fine.
I have no choice, so I’ll give you the rest of the biscuits.” This time, I watched it eat everything. It seemed unconcerned by my gaze.
After finishing, it licked its lips and looked back at me. I waved my hand.
“That’s it. All gone, truly.” Xiao Bai rolled on the ground again, seemingly exasperated.
I checked the time. “It’s about time.
I have important matters to attend to—stopping the Toad King’s resurrection. We must part ways here, little…” I started to say ‘little fellow,’ but considering its size—it was taller than me even when crouched on the ground—I stopped myself and merely waved.
“Goodbye!” With a faint smile, I turned to leave. Xiao Bai probably didn't understand what I said or where I was going, but it decided to follow me anyway.
This animal behavior is common, especially in tamer creatures; after receiving food from you, they usually follow for a while. But once they realize you have no more food, they lose interest and wander off, so I didn't think much of it.
Moving forward, I noticed the ice pillars growing denser, with slight variations in their structure. Some were very short, barely qualifying as pillars, while others were twisted oddly, looking naturally formed.
Yet, every pillar emitted a blue light, making the surroundings significantly brighter. Concurrently, the quantity of vegetation increased, transforming the area into something resembling a labyrinth.