Hunting the Wolf!

It was Blind Old Third! Li Yan had already suspected as much. He had never caught a scent like this from ordinary wild beasts. Could it truly be as the villagers claimed, that Blind Old Third had developed supernatural cultivation? Wary and alert, Li Yan slid the bow from his shoulder and loosely nocked an arrow. He signaled for Heidan to crouch low and match his hushed footsteps. That single motion alone revealed the difference between them. Guanzhong had long been a land of wandering martial artists. Through a thousand years of wars great and small, the tradition of martial arts had never waned. Places like Fort Li were former military garrisons where many children grew up practicing martial arts from an early age. In Red Fist alone, every village possessed its own lineages and stances. Heidan had practiced martial arts since childhood as well. His only pastime during the slack farming seasons was shaking the great spear and drilling his fist routines. The spear shaft on his back had long been rubbed as smooth and glossy as porcelain. Yet when he walked, his heels still struck the ground before his soles. Even when treading as lightly as he could, his weight pressing down on the weeds inevitably made a faint rustling sound. Li Yan was entirely different. He landed on the balls of his feet, holding his bow steady and his arrow level. He moved like an agile cat, his spine held in continuous balance as he slipped forward without making the slightest noise. Steadiness and agility—two opposing traits—were brought into seamless harmony. Watching from behind, Heidan was filled with envy. Martial arts demanded bitter toil, but natural talent was just as vital. This light-footed gait alone was a realm he could never hope to attain in a lifetime. The villagers often praised Li Yan, but that was mostly out of respect for his grandfather, an old veteran, and his deceased father, who had once been a bladesman. After all, how capable could a fourteen-year-old boy truly be? Heidan, however, knew better. He had once secretly watched Li Yan practicing and had been utterly awestruck by his skill. That was why, when tragedy struck, he had turned to Li Yan for help before anyone else. Amid Heidan's wandering thoughts, Li Yan came to an abrupt stop ahead. Heidan hurriedly halted, craned his neck, and his eyes went wide. Behind Fort Li stood numerous earthen walls—the remnants of a military garrison from the previous dynasty, now reduced to dilapidated ruins. The hour before dawn was at its darkest, the light murky and dim. Beside a broken wall, a massive dark shape was squirming. It was a gigantic, mangy wolf with mottled fur, stealing a pig. Its sharp teeth clamped down on the pig's ear, while its bushy tail lashed back and forth like a horsewhip, driving the fat pig along. Pigs were remarkably clever creatures. Around New Year's, when grabbed by a butcher, they knew their end had come and would shriek shrilly. Yet now, as though possessed, its head covered in blood, the pig did not dare utter even a single grunt. The wolf had only one eye left—it was none other than Blind Old Third! Blind Old Third had actually dared to enter the village at daybreak. What was more, why hadn't any of the dogs in the village barked? The eerie sight made Heidan's skin crawl, but hatred swiftly conquered fear. His eyes reddening, he slowly unslung the spear from his back. Li Yan was surprised as well, yet his mind only grew calmer. He signaled for Heidan not to act rashly, then steadily raised his bow. However, he did not rush to loose the arrow. As he drew the bowstring, he adjusted his breathing, narrowing his eyes as a chilling glint gathered within his pupils. In the few years since arriving in this world, his greatest passion had been martial arts. The martial arts here were closer to traditional fighting arts back home. There was no talk of spiritual energy or true qi, yet mnemonics concerning breath and internal force were abundant. Respiration, for instance, was of paramount importance. Only when one's breath was steady could the body's power coalesce. Just like when he was stalking forward earlier: with a calm mind and undisturbed breath, the force in his muscles and sinews answered his command effortlessly, allowing him to move like a cat in perfect harmony. One could never look down on this principle; the very essence of true martial proficiency lay right here. Even if an ordinary man swung stone weights and shook the great spear every day to build a body of raw power, and even if he memorized plenty of forms, when facing an opponent his breathing would still falter, his emotions would surge, his mind would go blank, and his punches would degenerate into wild, flailing brawls. The art of archery followed the exact same logic. No matter how strong the bow or how extensive the practice, only a shot that hit its mark truly counted. And when it came to controlling the body's power, breath was the switch! The savage wolf Blind Old Third might indeed be somewhat peculiar, but having blundered into a trap and lost an eye to an arrow proved it was flesh and blood after all. They were downwind, which was why they had caught Blind Old Third's scent first. Creeping low and silent while the beast was busy stealing the pig, they had closed the distance to a hundred meters. Li Yan was certain that as long as his shot struck true, a single arrow would claim its life! *Creeeak...* The bowstring pulled taut, the arrowhead astonishingly steady. Right then, Blind Old Third's fur bristled, and it suddenly snapped its head up. They had been spotted! Li Yan did not know where he had slipped up, or whether the beast had simply sensed his killing intent, but there was no time to ponder. *Twang!* The arrow shot forward, swift as a streak of light. Li Yan had aimed directly for the wolf's neck. Wolves were traditionally said to have heads of bronze, tails of iron, and waists of tofu, simply because between their hindquarters and ribs there was only the spine holding them together, lacking heavy bone protection; it was relatively soft and housed vital organs. Few people knew that the bridge between a wolf's eyes and nose had the most fragile bone of all. A blunt strike there could knock it unconscious, while an arrow piercing it was fatal. However, that area was extraordinarily difficult to hit. Given that Blind Old Third was far from ordinary, Li Yan had chosen the neck instead. *Thwack!* The arrowhead bit through fur and hide. Blind Old Third had managed to flinch aside at the last instant. The arrow missed its vitals, instead piercing straight through its right foreleg in an explosion of blood. Without a word, Li Yan nocked another arrow, preparing to follow up. Though the first arrow had failed to kill it, the shaft skewered through its limb would hinder its mobility. So long as he acted swiftly, the beast would still find it hard to escape. Then something astonishing happened. Blind Old Third did not bolt. Instead, it vaulted behind the earthen wall and began gnashing at the arrow with its razor fangs, trying to bite the shaft in two and tear it free. *Damn it, the thing is as cunning as a demon!* Li Yan cast his bow aside and broke into a dead sprint. Darting forward like an arrow, his hand clamped down on his hilt. His blade was roughly three chi long and under two cun wide, crafted in a distinctive style with an exceptionally narrow guard. This was a fast blade forged in Guanshan Town over near Lintong. The Guanshan blade was both the standard weapon and the symbol of a Guanzhong bladesman. Covering the hundred-meter gap, Li Yan accelerated with every stride, his feet kicking up puffs of dust. With a sharp click, his left thumb popped the blade free at the guard while his right hand hovered loosely over the hilt, yet he refrained from drawing the steel. His family's fast blade style: Waist Strike Stance. It resembled the quick-draw sword arts from his previous life, yet was fundamentally different. The Waist Strike Stance of the fast blade was meant for ambushes and sudden strikes; it could slice straight through in a frontal charge, unleashing the blade like a clap of thunder. When crossing paths with an enemy, not a shred of killing intent showed until the blade struck and sheathed again in a flash—leaving only a corpse behind as the warrior moved on. The wolf Blind Old Third was flesh and blood, but its uncanny intelligence and cunning defied ordinary logic. If the blade were drawn prematurely, the killing aura rippling along the cold steel would surely put the beast on guard. Li Yan chose the Waist Strike Stance precisely because it was like a predator's pounce, unsheathing its claws only at the very last moment. Just as he anticipated, Blind Old Third was no ordinary beast. In the brief moments it took Li Yan to charge across the distance, the vicious wolf had already bitten off the arrowhead and pulled the shaft out from behind, treating its wound just as a human would to minimize harm. Having a limb pierced by an arrow was agonizingly unbearable for an ordinary man. Yet Blind Old Third seemed wholly unaffected. Baring its fangs, its snout wrinkling into ridges, its blood-red single pupil contracted sharply. With a whoosh, it leaped onto the earthen wall and vaulted outward. This leap carried it five meters into the air, timed with terrifying precision as it plummeted from above, diving straight toward the charging Li Yan. A wild beast's combat prowess was forged through the brutal wilderness. As apex predators, when a pack surrounded prey, they would snarl, confront, and constantly probe until the strongest pounced for the throat to deliver a fatal strike, after which the rest would swarm to tear it apart. A solitary wolf's ambush likewise relied on surprise, often lying in wait beside a road to lunge out when a traveler or quarry passed by. As though driven by pure instinct, they always found the most effective tactic. It was no different now. Using the earthen wall as a springboard, Blind Old Third descended from above. Any normal prey would either turn to flee or look up in panic, exposing their throat. Once the wolf's jaws crushed the windpipe, no amount of bulk or strength would save you. Yet the opponent it faced was no ordinary person. Catching the foul stench in the rushing air, Li Yan's mind turned ice-cold. His phoenix eyes narrowed, the dragon pupils suspended within radiating a piercing chill. As Blind Old Third descended, he locked onto its vital spot, twisted aside, bent his waist, and whipped his right arm forward. *Clang!* At the instant their paths crossed, the Guanshan blade slashed upward in an oblique arc. A flash of cold light erupted, followed by a burst of blood. With a dull thud, Blind Old Third crashed to the ground. A gaping slash opened across its throat, jetting blood as it whimpered and flailed its limbs. Five meters away, Li Yan stood with his back to the wolf. With a backhand flick, he shook the blood from the steel and sheathed the blade in one fluid motion. "Splendid blade work!" Watching from a distance, Heidan felt his blood surge, shouting in praise. This duel between man and wolf had unfolded in the blink of an eye, yet it had left him trembling from head to toe, cold sweat soaking his forehead and palms. On the other side, Li Yan remained facing away even after sheathing his blade. He was not putting on airs; there was another reason. His expression darkened. He touched his neck, where a cut had also appeared. Though it had only broken the skin, blood seeped out, mere millimeters from his carotid artery. Blind Old Third was indeed flesh and blood, but its speed and reflexes far exceeded any ordinary beast; even as its throat was sliced open, it had managed to lash out with a hooking claw. "Brother Yan, are you all right?" Behind him, Heidan came running with his spear, asking anxiously. "What could possibly happen to me?" Li Yan replied, slowly turning around. A strange thing occurred: as he turned, the cut on his neck vanished in an instant. The faint traces of blood left behind looked as though they were merely spatter from the wolf. Heidan noticed nothing at all. He let out a breath of relief and looked down at Blind Old Third on the ground. The vicious wolf was indeed ferocious to the extreme. Even lying in a pool of blood with its breath faint and its body barely able to move, it still bared its fangs, glaring venomously at Li Yan. Its gaze brimmed with malice, as if searing his image into its memory. "Die already, you beast!" Fury flared in Heidan. With a thrust of his spear, *squelch*, the spearhead drove into Blind Old Third's remaining good eye and pierced straight into its brain. Even then, Blind Old Third convulsed several times before falling completely still. Right at that moment, Li Yan seemed to sense something, and his brow furrowed. Blind Old Third was dead as could be, yet that peculiar, rank, gamey stench from its body grew stronger and stronger, diffusing into the surroundings. Like an invisible wind, it swelled to an intense peak before abruptly dispersing into nothingness. Whether it was an illusion or not, Li Yan felt an inexplicable chill creep across his back. Yet looking closely, there was nothing around them. "Heidan, do you smell any foul odor?" "Huh? No, nothing..."