Chapter Seventy-Four: The Origin of the Zombies?

“Nonsense! The Shana Tribe has existed for tens of thousands of years—how could your ancestors from a few thousand years ago possibly compare?” The Shell Sea Folk looked at Ma Yi with some irritation, her two small eyebrows furrowing together in clear displeasure.

“Tens of thousands of years?” This time Ma Yi was genuinely speechless. At that time, humanity might not have even fully existed yet. This simply didn’t make sense. If his hands weren’t tightly wrapped and bound by tentacles, Ma Yi would have scratched his bald head; his mind simply couldn’t process all of this.

“Little Princess, I seem to recall that several thousand years ago, a group of Shana people left our homeland, saying they were going ashore. You know our kind can live on land, as long as we don’t stray too far from water,” one of the fishfolk said. This was the type with a human upper body but a fish’s head—let’s call them fishfolk, while those with entirely human-like upper bodies we’ll call merfolk.

“Is that so?” The Shell Sea Folk Princess looked at the fishfolk with some confusion, thinking hard. She vaguely remembered hearing something like that, but the details escaped her.

“So that means you’re descendants of the Shana Tribe! No wonder you speak our tongue—that explains it.” After pondering for a moment, the Shell Sea Folk nodded, seemingly satisfied to have resolved her earlier confusion about how Ma Yi knew the Shana language.

“Wait, where did you come from? Why haven’t we ever heard of you before?” Ma Yi wasn’t sure whether or not to believe he was a descendant of the Shana Tribe, but the appearance of these sea folk piqued his curiosity. Until now, he’d thought they were evolved sea creatures, but these beings were more like ancient ocean ancestors, claiming a history of tens of thousands of years.

“It’s like this: we lived on the far side of this great ocean, beyond a triangular wasteland. We’d always dwelled there, but not long ago, disaster struck. Our homeland collapsed, so the Eight Great Royal Clans led us away. Now, our homeland is completely destroyed and no longer fit for life.” Now that Ma Yi might be one of their own, a merfolk became lively and spoke up eagerly.

“Our homeland is gone, so now we live in this sea. We are vassals of the Eight Great Clans, specifically of the Shell Spirit Clan. I am only a princess of a minor tribe,” the Shell Sea Folk added.

“So the volcanic eruptions were your doing?” Ma Yi looked at the sea folk, but they didn’t seem capable of such things. Also, the merfolk called the clans “royal clans,” suggesting their own status was quite low. The Shell Sea Folk, however, addressed them as the Eight Great Clans, implying that even as a minor princess, she belonged to an important branch of the Shell Spirit Clan.

“Oh, you mean the earthfire? That’s not within our power. The total collapse of our homeland caused it. We left before the final collapse, so we don’t know if it coincided exactly with the eruption, but it must be related.” The Shell Sea Folk looked apologetically at Ma Yi. Their homeland existed on the same planet but in a mysterious inner space. It wasn’t a magical dimension—just a different plane, perhaps another layer within the planet’s interior.

“Boss, what is she saying? I can’t make heads or tails of it.” Tie Zhu glanced at Ma Yi, then at the odd creatures. They were truly ugly, except for the little shell girl—though even she carried two shells on her back, which Tie Zhu found hilarious. He silently mocked the sea folk’s appearance.

Ma Yi had no time for Tie Zhu’s nonsense; his mind was a blank. Another world? Shana Tribe? Tens of thousands of years? Was any of this even on the same wavelength as him? Earthfire—something only ancient alchemists spoke of, or what ancient people called volcanic magma. Ma Yi had read about it in novels. Now, the giant shell before him—yes, truly massive, not because of her chest, but her sheer size. The shell alone was seven or eight meters wide, and even the woman inside was three or four meters tall, though sitting cross-legged made her size less obvious.

“Hold on, let me get this straight: you lived on the Far Shore, which is another space on Earth, correct?” Ma Yi watched as the Shell Sea Folk nodded. He continued, “Is it another dimension, or is it physically on this planet?”

“It’s on this planet, but we reside in the inner space,” the Shell Sea Folk replied, nodding as she grasped his meaning.

“So, inside the Earth, then?” Ma Yi understood. Now the crucial question arose—the one that had always puzzled him: “Besides your Eight Great Clans, are there other creatures in the Far Shore’s inner space?”

The Shell Sea Folk was momentarily stunned, then replied, “There’s very little land in our homeland, and our Eight Great Clans are generally not allowed on certain parts of it. Some areas are forbidden because our elders say ominous beings reside there. I don’t know the specifics, but I once overheard the elders say that on the land dwell bloodthirsty corpse ghouls—terrifying creatures that devour everything in sight.”

Ma Yi’s heart skipped a beat. Corpse ghouls—could those be the zombies he understood? Like how, after his own evolution, his body demanded vast amounts of food—did these ghouls consume everything until nothing remained? At his current level, he could devour a hundred tons of food; when he reached higher stages, would he need thousands, even tens of thousands of tons? Would the disaster stage be the limit? Clearly not. Would he one day require hundreds of thousands or even millions of tons to fuel his evolution? Ma Yi stood stunned, but looked again to the giant shell for confirmation.

“When did you arrive on this level?” he asked, praying silently it wasn’t ten months ago.

“We’ve been here a long time now, about three hundred star days, I think,” the giant shell replied uncertainly after a moment’s thought.

“Damn.” Ma Yi’s heart broke. “You left the Far Shore—what happened to the corpse ghouls?”

“I’m not sure. Ever since we arrived here, everyone’s been busy, and outposts were set up on shore. Didn’t you encounter our outposts when you arrived?” The Shell Sea Folk looked at Ma Yi; she remembered her people had placed outposts in the direction he came from.

“Were they like these fellows?” Ma Yi gestured to the merfolk beside her.

“Yes, those were our outposts,” the Shell Sea Folk confirmed.

“They’re all dead—struck by lightning. The rocks they stood on were metallic,” Ma Yi finally understood. He’d thought these were ordinary marine creatures, but their history was far older.

“What? That explains why there’s been no news for days! We only sneaked out because the earthfire subsided and the water temperature was perfect for recuperation,” the giant shell said anxiously. Outposts were clearly meant to guard against dangers on land; with them gone, they were exposed to unknown threats. She had no idea that the so-called Shana descendant before her might actually be one of the corpse ghouls the elders feared.

“It’s fine. The area was safe when we passed through. More importantly, see those towering mountains? Few creatures could cross them. We were just curious and came to investigate,” Ma Yi reassured her, eager to learn more about the corpse ghouls.

“Do you know anything else about the corpse ghouls?” Ma Yi looked at the giant shell. Perhaps from years underwater, or maybe by nature, her skin was an almost translucent white, with even the parts that might tan a tender pink. Her lips were a vivid crimson—quite striking. Ahem, he was getting distracted.

“We actually know very little. Only adults are privy to such matters, and unfortunately, none of us are adults yet,” the giant shell admitted regretfully, pursing her lips.

Ma Yi nodded, feigning indifference. “It’s alright, I was just curious. By the way, where is your tribe? Somewhere in these waters?”

The Shell Sea Folk paused, then apologized softly, “Our home lies thirty li in that direction, deep beneath the waves. We sneaked out this time, so we can’t invite you to visit—otherwise our escapade would be exposed. I’m truly sorry.”

Ma Yi smiled, doing his best to appear friendly. “No worries, I’m just curious about you all. There’ll be plenty of chances in the future. Maybe I’ll bring you to visit my place one day.”

Now that both sides had proven there was no ill intent, the giant octopus—the Shell Sea Folk’s mount—finally released Ma Yi and his two companions. They’d been bound by its tentacles the whole time. Once free, Ma Yi headed for the shallows to wash off the sticky residue.

As the group chatted amiably, sharing stories of their respective peoples, a wave towering several dozen meters began to roll toward them across the sea.