Chapter Two: The Arrival of the Demon

Half a year ago, the scrawny macaque awakened in this world, finding itself among a band of monstrous apes led by a colossal simian. Thus did it become one of the weakest members of this humble tribe of beastly spirits. Its grotesque appearance—mismatched eyes and a pair of extra, vestigial ears behind the usual ones, making six in total—earned it the name Six-Ugly.

Beasts though they were, these creatures were not entirely without sense. Unlike the legendary monsters said to speak and walk from birth, they could at least stand and move about within a few days, possessing minds as sharp as any ordinary animal. Six-Ugly swiftly grasped its new reality, suppressing any behavior that might draw unwanted attention.

The ruler of this pack was the enormous ape known as Wolf-Flame. Despite the imposing name, Wolf-Flame’s group was, compared with the monsters of Meishan, the lowest of the low. Beast spirits were a stage above common birds and beasts, yet far short of true monsters. Only after passing through the five stages—awakening the spirit, gathering essence, opening speech, forming the core, and finally transforming in shape—could one be called a monster, and only then might they survive in Meishan’s seven peaks and twenty-nine valleys, seeking the protection of greater fiends.

The forest at Meishan’s heart was a place even the mightiest monsters dared not trespass, a forbidden ground to both man and beast. On the outer fringes, minor spirits and beastly beings awaiting transformation staked out their own small territories, warring and preying upon one another, or venturing outside to seize humans and livestock—waiting for the day they might ascend into true monsters and enter the inner mountains.

Wolf-Flame had reached the core-forming stage but not yet transformed; his tribe dwelt on a barren ridge at the mountain’s farthest edge. Most of his followers were at the essence-gathering or speech-opening stages, with a few just barely awakened, awkwardly caught between worlds. Six-Ugly’s mother was one such, nothing more than meat for the tribe—hunted at whim, driven to labor, and, in times of famine, slaughtered for food. Such beasts were called meat-beasts.

In a tribe, as in all society, the strong prey upon the weak. Six-Ugly’s mother was no exception, and Six-Ugly’s place was lower still—bullied, tormented, utterly powerless to resist, saved from death only by its mother’s protection. Without her, it would have long since been torn apart and devoured, its new life ended almost as soon as it began.

If the heavens had any mercy, perhaps Six-Ugly might have survived to grow under its mother’s shelter, and with the memory of a former life, might have transformed into a monster and risen above its fate. Yet the previous winter was especially harsh; with food scarce, the tribe turned upon the meat-beast mother and child for sustenance.

Before Six-Ugly’s very eyes, its mother was seized by Wolf-Flame, ripped in half, her flesh devoured, her bloody remains divided among the tribe, until only gnawed bones were left behind. In passing, Six-Ugly’s own leg was broken to prevent escape.

Yet its feigned madness and stupidity saved it; the tribe did nothing more than cripple it. As soon as the beasts fell into a food-induced slumber, Six-Ugly fled the cave despite the swirling snow, hid beneath the drifts for two days, then eked out a wretched existence among the desolate granite ridges, living off whatever insects and rodents it could find in cracks and crevices. Harsh as it was, it staved off the fate of being devoured.

After months of this, Six-Ugly finally saw an opportunity: the coming of the Blood Moon.

Its aim was clear—the demon core of Wolf-Flame and the other apes. Instinct told it that by swallowing a core from a higher-level beast, it might increase its own power. Now only at the spirit-awakening stage, desperate to sense the world’s essence and escape death by transforming into a monster, this was the swiftest path.

The five ranks of beast spirits—awakening the spirit, gathering essence, opening speech, core formation, and transformation—were the only way to ascend. Otherwise, the festering wounds alone would be fatal.

Awakening the spirit brought wisdom; gathering essence let one draw in the energy of heaven and earth; opening speech granted language, knowledge, and understanding of the world’s changes.

Core formation was the stage when a demon’s core became self-sustaining—no longer reliant on the ambient spiritual energy to replenish its power.

Transformation, the final step, allowed a beast to assume human shape, standing upright, shedding its old form and entering the greater mysteries of the world.

Now, Six-Ugly had achieved its goal—first feeding its starving belly on Wolf-Flame’s flesh. For a beast, devouring flesh did little to strengthen one’s power; Six-Ugly ate only to survive, having not eaten in three days and drained by the recent battle. Once the front limbs of Wolf-Flame’s corpse were consumed and its strength restored, Six-Ugly stopped eating, quickly carved open the ape’s chest with a jagged bone, and thrust its paw inside, fishing out a fist-sized, yellowish core, still soft and webbed with bloody tendrils.

Drawn by the scent of blood, other beasts’ howls grew closer outside the cave. Six-Ugly wasted no time, snatching the core and fleeing deep into the crevice between two massive slabs of granite—a path only its small, frail body could navigate. Deeper and deeper it went, until it reached a chamber a few meters across, lined with dry grass, feathers, and animal skins, including the tattered hide of its own mother, which had helped it survive those two days buried in the snow.

Six-Ugly had gnawed even its mother’s remains without hesitation or tears; hatred and the will to survive had frozen its heart.

On one side lay broken stones and splintered bones, sharpened into crude weapons for hunting vermin; on the other, a shallow pool where water trickled down the rock, providing something to drink. Here, at least, it was safe and warm—if always hungry.

But today everything would change, for it had obtained a demon core. By inherited instinct, consuming it would strengthen its body, perhaps enough to hunt other beasts and acquire further cores.

This advantage, however, was only for beasts. Once transformed into a true monster, the effect of devouring cores diminished greatly. Even among beast spirits, consuming a peer’s core did little. Once Six-Ugly reached the core-forming stage, further advancement would require a true monster’s inner nucleus.

But for now, Six-Ugly needed only to survive and seize a foothold in Meishan. That, and tend to its wounds before they set into a permanent deformity.

After a brief rest, Six-Ugly unwrapped its wounded leg. The weather had warmed, but without medicine, the injury had festered, reeking of pus and decay. Gritting its teeth, it began to scrape away the rotten flesh with a sharpened bone, exposing raw bone and sinew, sweat beading its brow, but its expression never changing. Only when all the necrotic tissue was gone and fresh blood flowed did it stop.

Once the wound was cleaned and the broken bone set and bound with hide and grass, Six-Ugly finally allowed itself to breathe, its mismatched eyes as cold and indifferent to pain as ever.

After a short rest, it took the demon core in its paw, preparing to swallow it. Blood from its hand smeared the core, and in that moment, the core suddenly grew scorching hot, as if transformed into a lump of burning coal.

Six-Ugly yelped in surprise and dropped it, yet the core did not fall but hovered before its paw, as if drawn by some invisible force, glowing gently.

Nothing in its inherited memory mentioned this. Even as steady as Six-Ugly was, it stood stunned.

Then, before its wide, astonished eyes, the core melted into a floating mass of milky fluid, which surged forward and shot into its body.

The instant the core entered, a thunderous roar exploded in Six-Ugly’s mind. It felt itself falling, memories colliding with a distant, cataclysmic blast, as if something were dragging its body apart. Agony seized every vein and nerve, and darkness swallowed its senses.

Oblivion took Six-Ugly utterly. Who knew how much time passed before it slowly awoke, the first sensation a chill. When it finally opened its eyes, it realized it had blocked the drip of water, which now splashed cold upon its face.

Listening, Six-Ugly heard nothing but silence outside the cave—no more howling cries. Plainly it had been unconscious for far longer than a single night; the blood moon had set, and the chance to lure out and slay the other apes had passed.

Wait—

Six-Ugly started, raising its paw to look around. The cave was unchanged, save for the faint bloodstain where the core had lain; its paw uninjured, proof that what had happened was no dream.

Was this how it was to consume a demon core?

Remembering the core’s entry, Six-Ugly felt a confusion it could not resolve. The inherited memories spoke of nothing like this. Perhaps the traditions were incomplete, or perhaps other beast tribes had different experiences. With this thought, the anxiety in its heart lessened.

But just then, a hunger unlike any it had known before seized it. It was so intense that Six-Ugly nearly gnawed at its own limbs. Only then did it recall Wolf-Flame’s carcass outside the cave—and felt it could devour the entire thing in one sitting.

The matter of the demon core could wait. For now, there was nothing more important than sating its hunger. If it starved now… Six-Ugly knew it would become a laughingstock, even in death.