This revelation added another layer to the complex warrior.
Life continued its slow, grinding rhythm, until one evening cycle, during what Steven mentally termed the tribe's "Bedtime Story Hour."
The elderly Witch, Nv Chou, gathered the tribe's children near the central, slightly warmer area.
Steven noticed she wore more adornments than usual tonight—a necklace strung with tiny, sharp canines and chips of glistening black stone, a heavy white bracelet carved from bone circling her wrist.
She leaned on a dark wooden staff, its top carved into the indistinct shape of a bird's head.
Before beginning the familiar verses about Pangu, she uttered several deeper, more resonant syllables, ancient and guttural, seeming to evoke the very essence of the time before Heaven and Earth were separated, when Chaos was like an egg.
The cavern fell utterly silent. Even the most restless children grew still.
Elders seated nearby began to hum softly in accompaniment, while warriors like Mason stood straighter, faces etched with reverence.
Then, the children's high, clear voices rose in the familiar chant, echoing strangely in the vast darkness:
"…Chaos opens, Pangu is born… Giant axe splits, Heaven and Earth divided…" "…One thick soil, named Azkadilon… Suspended in endless sea, Chaos surrounds all…" "…Stars fall, celestial rivers crack… Western demons covet the East…" "…Pangu rages, swings divine axe… Blood stains the sky, body anchors the dark and yellow…" "…Axe shatters eightfold, scattered to eight wastes… Fire seed left in the world, awaits the Hero…"
"Fire seed left in the world, awaits the Hero!"
Steven seized on the clearer wording.
"Cecil! Quick! Analyze! 'Fire seed'… does that mean one of those eight axe fragments? And 'Hero'… is that referring to that calm leader guy? Or…" A flicker of absurd hope ignited.
"…Me? I mean, according to every transmigration novel ever, the outsider dropped into the world is the chosen one, right? Why else would I be here?"
Just then, as if summoned by the thought, the calm young leader himself walked past the gathering.
A warrior immediately broke off from the group, approached him respectfully, and spoke, his voice clear in the relative silence.
And Steven heard the name distinctly.
"Xuanyuan Hao!" Cecil's translation was instantaneous, followed by rapid-fire analysis flashing across Steven's retina.
"Name confirmation: Xuanyuan Hao. Cross-referencing… 'Xuanyuan' – Probability exceeding 99% correlation with lineage identifier or clan designation of the Yellow Emperor (Huang Di), paramount figure in Huaxia foundational myths… 'Hao' – Denotes vastness, brilliance, celestial authority… WARNING: Individual possesses designation of immense mythological and potentially historical significance. Recommend extreme caution and observation…"
"Xuanyuan?! Holy shit! The actual Xuanyuan?! The freaking Yellow Emperor's line?! Right here?! This guy's the final boss, isn't he?! What kind of bullshit game balance puts a Level 1 noob like me in the same starting zone as a max-level legendary character?! This is rigged!"
Steven's mind reeled, his entire understanding of this world violently re-calibrating once more.
The burning curiosity about the "Fire Seed," the Pangu Axe fragments, ignited by the chant and now supercharged by the revelation of Xuanyuan Hao's identity, became an obsession.
He needed answers. He looked around the vast, mysterious cave.
"If this is Kunlun Mountain, legendary home of gods… and this is the tribe's 'Sacred Cave'… then maybe… just maybe… like those ancient caves back on Earth… maybe the people who lived here before left records? On the walls? Like… murals?"
The thought lodged itself in his brain. Sitting here starving and speculating was useless. Time to explore.
He decided to venture deeper into the unknown areas of the cave, hoping to find more clues.
Slipping away from the main gathering area, he groped his way forward into the deeper, darker, less-traveled passages.
The further he went, the dimmer the ambient bioluminescence became, the colder the air bit at his exposed skin.
The faint, ghostly glow of the strange fungi was his only guide, casting long, dancing shadows that played tricks on his eyes.
The silence here was profound, broken only by the damp slap of his makeshift leaf-shoes on the stone floor and the frantic hammering of his own heart.
After what felt like an age of navigating narrow cracks and echoing chambers, just as weary frustration began to set in, the passage ahead widened unexpectedly.
Following a slightly brighter cluster of the glowing fungi, he emerged into a vast, high-ceilinged grotto.
As his eyes adjusted, he drew a sharp, astonished breath.
Before him stood an immense, ancient rock wall, utterly different from the rougher stone elsewhere in the cave.
And carved deep into its surface, covering it from floor to near the invisible ceiling, were countless intricate, powerful, and undeniably ancient images!
"Bingo," he whispered, awe temporarily silencing his inner monologue.
He moved closer, tracing the deep, powerful lines with hesitant fingers.
"The Giant Battles the Shadow"— The 'Shadow' was amorphous, sometimes coalescing into a horrifying multi-eyed, faceless silhouette, other times dissolving into countless tormented, wailing phantoms.
It radiated a palpable malevolence that seemed to absorb the very light around it. The Pangu figure grappling with it seemed immense, yet somehow… constrained, bound by invisible bonds of cosmic law.
"The Goddess Mends the Sky and Creates Humans"— Beneath Nüwa's graceful form working on the celestial rift, the ravaged earth below showed hints of a colossal, shattered mountain peak (like a fragment of the legendary Mount Buzhou?) amidst the swirling floods. The tiny figures she molded varied – some robust and seemingly crafted from vibrant, multi-hued earth, others crude and fragile, perhaps suggesting different origins or destinies.