Jiang Bai spent the entire afternoon skimming through the books and peppering Ella Musk with questions.
"This book mentions hilichurl beliefs… They actually have religion?"
"Yes," Ella answered without hesitation. "Most hilichurls worship a deity they call 'Unu.' We don't know where this god originated, what miracles it performed, or why hilichurls worship it—it's like the belief was engraved into them from birth."
"Unu?" Jiang Bai repeated thoughtfully.
He vaguely recalled hearing something similar back on Dragonspine. Or maybe not.
His memory wasn't bad, but recalling a single, random word clearly was tough.
"But there are exceptions," Ella added.
"Exceptions? You mean some hilichurl tribes don't worship Unu?"
Jiang Bai knew very little about hilichurls. Apart from the friendly tribe in the mountain cave, most hilichurls attacked or fled on sight. Plus, hilichurls lacked writing. They painted symbols, but those seemed purely decorative or symbolic. Even if they contained messages, Jiang Bai certainly couldn't decipher them.
"Yes," Ella nodded, flipping open another page to reveal a rough map. "Dadaupa Gorge hosts three main tribes: the Meaty tribe, the Sleeper tribe, and the Eclipse tribe. The Meaty and Sleeper tribes live exactly as their names suggest—focused on eating and sleeping, respectively. But the Eclipse tribe is different."
She turned the page again, showing a detailed sketch of a makeshift altar decorated with cloth banners bearing black sun symbols.
"The Eclipse tribe worships a Black Sun. They're also the fiercest and most aggressive."
A Black Sun? Jiang Bai frowned. That sounded ominous.
He glanced out the window, where the evening sun dipped toward the horizon. Nothing about it suggested darkness or mystery.
"What's special about this 'Black Sun'?"
"We don't know," Ella said regretfully. "My grandmother spent years researching it. All we could confirm was that the Eclipse tribe first appeared around five hundred years ago."
Even with their grasp of hilichurlian, communication remained simple at best. Complex questions went unanswered.
"Alright," Jiang Bai said, moving on to another topic. "How do hilichurls organize themselves socially? Is it a hierarchy based purely on strength?"
"From what I've observed, yes. Most hilichurl groups follow a 'might makes right' system. The strongest warriors dominate, receiving the largest share of food. When food is plentiful, these warriors evolve into Mitachurls and usually become tribe leaders."
"And sometimes, a Mitachurl evolves further into a Lawachurl—a 'Hilichurl King.' But when that happens, the Lawachurl often leaves the tribe to live alone."
"Their kings leave?" Jiang Bai raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't match what you'd expect from pack animals."
For example, wolves had a strict hierarchy. When a new leader took over, the defeated alpha left the pack to live out its days alone. But among hilichurls, the king voluntarily isolated himself. Did it fear monopolizing too much food from weaker members?
"Hilichurls aren't animals—they're monsters," Ella clarified gently. "While we can reference animal behaviors in our research, ultimately, they're quite different."
She paused briefly. "But to be fair, we can't be certain all hilichurl kings leave. There are so many tribes scattered across Teyvat, and we've only studied a fraction of them."
"How about hilichurl shamans? How do they emerge?" Jiang Bai recalled the elderly, authoritative shaman from the cave tribe.
"Hilichurls don't seem to have clear lifespans. We've never observed a natural hilichurl death from old age. Usually, they die violently—killed by adventurers, accidents, or starvation—or they evolve into Mitachurls. We've never tracked one's entire lifespan," Ella sighed regretfully.
Hilichurl studies were extremely niche. In Mondstadt, only her family pursued it, and their limited numbers made detailed observation difficult. The progress they'd achieved represented generations of painstaking effort.
"Hilichurl shamans are elderly hilichurls with exceptional elemental affinity from youth. Their elemental mastery peaks with age, allowing them to invoke the elements by chanting while wielding staffs larger than themselves."
"Despite being called monsters, hilichurls lead surprisingly rich lives," Ella continued, her voice tinged with emotion. "They cook meat over fires, craft explosive barrels from slimes, nap under trees after meals, sing when they're happy, and dance to celebrate good harvests."
"They've even learned how to domesticate livestock and mark territories. I wouldn't be surprised if they started cultivating plants soon—there are plenty of fruit trees in Dadaupa Gorge."
Ella wore a complicated expression. Given how long her family had studied hilichurls, they'd naturally grown somewhat attached. She often wondered—if humans and hilichurls could communicate fluently, could hostility be avoided?
Unfortunately, hilichurls had long been labeled monsters, irrevocably becoming humanity's enemy.
Collecting herself, Ella turned back to Jiang Bai. "You're learning hilichurlian because you want to communicate with them, right? If possible, could you help me with something?"
"Sure, no problem." Jiang Bai readily agreed. His young instructor had generously shared so much knowledge; he felt obligated to return the favor.
Ella handed him a sheet of paper scribbled with various hilichurlian words. "The translations here aren't entirely accurate. If you can, please help me correct them."
Still young, Ella lacked both combat skills and a Vision, making field research too dangerous. Delegating this task to someone capable was her best option.
Seeing the straightforward request, Jiang Bai accepted gladly.
By the time he left the library at dusk, Jiang Bai had borrowed the Hilichurl Language Quick Reference Guide.
One afternoon wasn't enough to memorize everything—he'd have to rely on flipping through the manual during actual conversations.