Chapter Twenty-Five: The Toll Meat

Ever since Sun Licheng crafted his first crossbow bolts, his hunting efficiency had soared. With a sharp whoosh, the powerful crossbow sent an arrow deep into a stag’s hind leg, causing the creature to slow at once. Hastily shouldering his crossbow, Sun Licheng drew his saber and gave chase. Just as he was about to overtake the wounded stag, a sudden unease gripped his heart. He stopped in his tracks, warily scanning the small hillside ahead to his right.

Moments later, a tall, imposing wolf appeared atop the slope. Soon after, a pack of wolves raced in from the distance, howling as they swiftly encircled the injured stag.

Watching his hard-won prey snatched away infuriated Sun Licheng, but he was vastly outnumbered. The gray wolf on the hillside met his gaze with such fierce hostility that Sun Licheng felt a heavy pressure descend upon him.

As the pack tore into the stag, Sun Licheng held his saber across his right hand and retreated slowly, step by step. Seeing their adversary withdraw, the gray wolf’s eyes flashed with disdain, and it let out a triumphant howl, echoed arrogantly by the rest of the pack.

Since the wolves had migrated to this area, they had quickly become its tyrants, preying upon all the animals in their domain—including Sun Licheng. This was the second time his quarry had been stolen. Though he longed to resist, the wolf pack numbered at least thirty mature grays; he could do nothing but give up. Other predators had contended with these wolves, but their king was formidable, leaving rivals grievously wounded or even dead. Consequently, many carnivores began to migrate elsewhere in search of prey. Sun Licheng, too, planned to leave once his equipment was ready, to seek fragments of the God of Magma’s divinity.

Because of the wolves’ threat, Sun Licheng shifted his focus back to hunting mountain snow rats and meadow voles. Yet soon, he discovered the wolves were now extending their claws to the very edges of the meadow.

This time, however, they met their match: the numbers of wolf-rabbits far outstripped their own. After several small skirmishes, the wolves retreated each time, unsuccessful. In Sun Licheng’s view, a real battle was only a matter of time.

Whenever he approached the meadow, Sun Licheng found himself unconsciously gazing at the mysterious path, much to the God of Magma’s curiosity. The deity’s fragment asked the Lord of the Stars about it.

“When I first fashioned this body, I used the corpse of a goblin from the Goblin Empire. I reckon there’s something in those ruins that draws pure goblins back. I used to control the body myself, so I never noticed anything amiss. But now, with a mortal in charge, those devices are working again,” the Lord of the Stars mused.

“That explanation makes sense. The Goblin Empire’s technology was truly remarkable,” the Magma God’s fragment agreed.

Sun Licheng tried several times to explore deeper along the path, but the wolf-rabbits always blocked his way, forcing him to retreat.

...

The valley and meadow lay not far apart. The climate here was harsh, and food was scarce. With the wolves’ arrival, most animals had fled, making hunting even harder. As prey dwindled, the wolves ventured to the meadow more frequently, and tensions with the wolf-rabbits mounted—until, at last, open conflict erupted.

That day, Sun Licheng was out hunting when he heard the savage howls of wolves and wolf-rabbits from the meadow and rushed over. As he neared, he saw several wounded gray wolves fleeing, their once-mighty king among them. The wolf king now limped badly, one leg dragging awkwardly behind it.

After waiting a while to ensure no other wolves or wolf-rabbits remained, Sun Licheng crept toward the meadow.

The aftermath was a scene of carnage. Over thirty plump rabbits and nearly twenty sturdy gray wolves lay dead on the blood-soaked grass, turning it a ghastly shade of red. Though the wolves had been repelled, the wolf-rabbits, too, had suffered greatly; only a few solitary sentries remained, their former might gone.

In the center of the field, the body of a fat mountain antelope lay dead. Sun Licheng guessed this was the cause of the conflict, though the underlying animosity had long been simmering.

Seeing the wolf-rabbits so grievously wounded, Sun Licheng was struck by an idea. Crawling out from his hiding place, he strode boldly onto the meadow.

Fresh from battle, the wolf-rabbits were on high alert, immediately raising the alarm with shrill howls. Soon, over a dozen rushed out from the depths of the meadow, led by a large gray rabbit.

Sun Licheng stopped at the meadow’s edge, saber in hand, waiting quietly for the big gray rabbit.

It was in poor shape, bearing several wounds from the recent fight. Worse, repeated use of magic had left it exhausted. Yet, faced with Sun Licheng’s sudden appearance, it had no choice but to confront him with its followers.

Despite their furious snarls and threats, Sun Licheng remained unperturbed. Their bedraggled state amused him; all bluster and bravado, he saw right through their hollow menace and stood his ground, composed and unflinching.

The big gray rabbit, realizing it could not intimidate him, grew anxious. It knew from many encounters that Sun Licheng was no easy foe. Prolonging the standoff risked drawing other predators to the field of corpses—a disaster for the wolf-rabbits. Suddenly, it sensed a voice in its mind and, recognizing the sender, was startled to realize Sun Licheng was communicating with it.

Since mastering the Animal Friend skill, Sun Licheng had practiced diligently, making his exchanges with beasts increasingly smooth. Seeing the wolf-rabbits so battered, he decided to try his luck—sending a message of goodwill while the big gray rabbit was distracted. As a magical beast of considerable intelligence, it would surely understand.

Indeed, the big gray rabbit stiffened, clearly receiving Sun Licheng’s message. Yet it did not lower its guard; magical beasts could communicate, and Sun Licheng’s odd appearance didn’t surprise it—though his ability to speak its tongue did not impress, either.

Soon, Sun Licheng received a blunt warning: “Intruder, leave now! Or we will tear you apart!” The Animal Friend skill was crude, but the meaning was clear.

Sun Licheng wanted to laugh. “Beasts will be beasts—even magical ones have simple minds. Bluffing without grasping the situation,” he thought. Yet it was precisely this quality that made Animal Friend so useful. Wild creatures, though fierce, were never as cunning as humans; dealing with them was refreshingly straightforward.

He replied in his mind: “I am Sun Licheng, a neighbor in these lands. I mean no harm. I wish only to follow this road and see where it leads, not to compete for your prey. In fact, if I find edible things within the meadow, I’ll share them with you. Your clan needs food to recover; please trust my sincerity.”

Of course, he didn’t expect the wolf-rabbits to be swayed so quickly. Sure enough, the big gray rabbit flatly rejected him again.

Sun Licheng pressed on: “I’m not here to hunt. I have enough prey. Besides, you cannot stop me now.” With that, he drew a crossbow bolt, loaded it, and fired at a sapling nearby. With a resonant twang, the bolt pierced straight through the trunk.

The rabbits, having witnessed the power of his crossbow before, grew restless, their teeth bared as low growls rumbled from their throats.

Taking advantage of their unease, Sun Licheng took a roasted snow rat leg from his pack and tossed it at the big gray rabbit’s feet.

The snow rats here were enormous—nearly the size of piglets, over sixty centimeters long. A single leg weighed plenty, and this one had been carefully seasoned and roasted over the fire, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.

The scent caused another stir among the rabbits, and Sun Licheng even noticed a spark in the big gray rabbit’s eyes.

It’s worth mentioning that Sun Licheng’s culinary skills were exceptional even back on Earth. Here, with his remarkable new body, he had sampled the local flora and fauna, discovered many “seasonings”—some even surprising himself. Though snow rats resembled voles, their meat was delicate and, when roasted with spices, a rare delicacy. Even the two deities in Sun Licheng’s mind, watching him cook in their shared consciousness, often found themselves drooling, eager for a bite.

“You cannot enter the meadow. What if you hunt here? There isn’t enough food for all of us. If you kill our prey, our kin will starve. Besides, you’ve hunted voles here and injured some of us before,” came the big gray rabbit’s next, slightly softened message, baring its teeth in a show of threat.

In this world, the cycle of kill or be killed left no room for racial grudges; today you are the hunter, tomorrow the hunted. The big gray rabbit clearly wanted more food.

“This snow rat wasn’t hunted in your meadow. If you let me in, I’ll give you a snow rat each time. I was in a hurry today, but I’ll bring the rest next time,” Sun Licheng replied, gritting his teeth and tossing another leg in front of the rabbit.

Unable to resist, the big gray rabbit took a bite. The explosion of flavor from the roasted snow rat was unlike anything it had ever tasted. Even as a magical beast, it had never eaten food so carefully prepared. The promise of more, combined with the delicious offering, finally swayed the big gray rabbit—it agreed to let Sun Licheng enter the meadow.

Initially, Sun Licheng worried the wolf-rabbits might attack him once inside. But the big gray rabbit seemed almost contemptuous of this concern, replying, “Since I give you my clan’s word, we will not attack you. I will even show you a route to avoid other groups, but each time you must bring us two whole roasted snow rabbits.”

Such wisdom, he thought, could even offer value-added services.

Sun Licheng agreed. Early the next morning, he paid the rest of his “admission fee” in food, to everyone’s satisfaction, and followed the faint trail deep into the meadow as directed by the big gray rabbit.

As he walked, Sun Licheng felt the bargain was well worth it, for he found many useful things in the meadow—not only edible plants, but also herbs rich in energy. One type of aquatic grass, for instance, had excellent hemostatic properties. Most importantly, there was a small fruit with a powerful stickiness. Useless to animals, for Sun Licheng it was the perfect natural adhesive!

Gazing at the winding path ahead, Sun Licheng brimmed with anticipation for what awaited him.

“This is what you call walking right into the trap,” sighed the Lord of the Stars, wineglass in hand, as he spoke to the Magma God’s fragment from the sofa.

Indeed, it was a trap—the path led straight to one of the Goblin Empire’s most important installations, a battlefield turned divine forbidden ground, watched over by the gods themselves.

Though neither divine lord wished to go, they could not control this body, and so were forced to risk the adventure with Sun Licheng.

“If only we had our own bodies, we wouldn’t have to suffer these anxious escapades together. Let’s hope for a safe outcome,” said the Magma God’s fragment, clinking his glass with the Lord of the Stars before downing his drink in one gulp.