11 Top Dog

The moment he grasped it tightly in his chilled hands, with a sucking noise, the spiritual energy in the pond was channelled into the item in his hands.

Instantly, the water calmed.

Van kicked his way upwards.

Above water, he inspected the object in his hands.

Under the morning sun, it was a small, lustrous green turtle shell criss-crossed with gold veins. It was completely empty.

Despite now containing all the energy in the pond, the turtle shell lay docilely in his hands. The dark, icy qi roamed across the surface but did not react to Van's touch. Faintly, Van could sense that the shell accepted his aura.

As he watched, it started to become translucent. Then, it completely disappeared.

Van felt rather than saw small green turtle shell now appear in his mindscape, floating just below the ring.

It seemed harmless enough.

It wasn't like he could do anything about it though, he couldn't reach into his mind and just pull something out, that was absurd. If Jet was awake, it would have shaken its body disapprovingly and wished it could smack the boy upside on the head [Stop thinking like a mortal!].

In the distance, something thin and ragged stumbled out into the clearing.

Van looked up, alarmed.

A skinny wolf, dehydrated and starving from three days no food or water and plenty of exercise, gave a piteous groan and collapsed, muzzle-first, into the dirt.

The young man watched with amusement as several others wobbled out of their dens and slumped onto the grass, weak and exhausted.

That amusement quickly turned into alarm when a large figure flew out of the biggest den and leapt straight for his throat!

F***!

A massive, snarling wolf pinned him to the ground. It raised an enormous paw and slashed at Van.

Adrenaline coursing through him, Van reacted quickly by flinging himself to the side.

The paw crashed down onto the ground next to him.

Clumps of grass and dirt went flying.

Picking himself up, he dashed forward and slammed a fist into the wolf's side.

Hard fur rippled outwards from the centre of impact, but there was no damage.

Van's expression turned grim, this wolf must have bathed in the pond its whole life!

The wolf was similarly shocked, no human had ever been able to land a blow on it before! It snarled and returned the blow, claws extended.

Van ducked, but too slowly, and the sharp claws raked over his back. His tunic was immediately shredded, and bits of it went flying across the clearing.

The wolf snarled in victory, but it was short-lived.

Van's back, now exposed, was unharmed, with only four pink lines to indicate where the wolf had clipped him. There was a dull, radiating pain, but the skin had not broken.

Van grinned.

Taking advantage of the wolf's shock, Van ran forwards while channelling his fleshly power. His next punch hit the wolf with great momentum and force.

This time, the wolf shuddered and had to take an unwilling step back.Van's fist was burning, but he continued to relentlessly pummel the wolf and press his advantage.

Slowly, Van was able to control the flow of battle!

Each of his fists hit the wolf with greater force than a skinny human boy should have been able to produce.

The Wolf King was astonished. As the strongest member of the pack, and with the greatest achievements in the pond, it had a greater vitality and body mass compared to the other wolves. After three days and three nights of relentless activity, it was worn and tired, but much better off than the others.

Knowing clearly that they had been set up by the human boy, the Wolf King had run out at first chance to take its revenge.

Now it felt as if it had bitten into a soft, fragrant meat bun and found that it was stale and rock hard!

But the Wolf King was not worried, earlier it had only given a casual swipe of its paws, convinced the boy wouldn't last a second. It was surprised that the boy could be unharmed, but not to the point of being afraid.

Growing over its shock, it started to retaliate. Changing its rhythm abruptly, it lunged for Van with its open jaw, snarling and flinging saliva everywhere. Sharp teeth, like swords, descended upon Van.

Similarly, Van was also not afraid. Opening his pores further, and clearing his heart, he channelled the power of his flesh and rammed another fist into the Wolf King's jaw.

BAAAMM!

________________

Silver Mark Two, on stand by near the rim of the hole, twitched as she heard a struggle drifting on the wind. The accompanying spiritual flux was very weak, but the fact that there were beasts still fighting on this mountain was odd.

This was because during their whole journey to the top of the mountain their surroundings were eerily quiet.

The beasts on the mountain were on the low, avoiding conflict until the situation on the mountain stabilised.

Obviously, whatever happened three days ago had shocked them into cautiousness. They did not dare to fight or make noise, lest they trigger another event.

Deciding it was worth investigating, she nodded to Mark Three and flashed away, leaving him to guard the rim on his own, while the Division Leader and Mark Four descended further downwards to investigate the hole.

_________________________________________________________________________________

The Wolf King's jaw was knocked to the side from the impact. Its eyes widened comically.

It was shocked! Shocked and unwilling!

How could a human boy have this strength?

Van rubbed his fist, which was showing signs of the pain he was inflicting himself and his opponent using the Thousand Saints Sacrifice method. The skin on the knuckles had split. His finger joints were purple and swollen.

Van pressed on. Pulling back his fist again, he aimed for the Wolf King's exposed throat!

The Wolf King instinctively shrunk its neck, narrowly avoiding Van's powerful hit.

Caught off guard, Van stumbled forwards. The Wolf King's eyes sharpened, and with speed it bit down on Van's extended arm. Its sword-like teeth lodged into the boy's arm but were unable to piece past the first few millimetres. It chomped down harder and was only able to sink another millimetre in.

But now Van had the perfect angle. With his left arm, he gathered as much power as he could and slammed his fist into the space between the Wolf King's brows.

BAMM!!

The Wolf King frantically dislodged its teeth but was dizzy from the blow.

BAMM!!

Van was unforgiving and relentless. Every hit caused his bones to groan and creak in protest, but there was a fierce, daring determination in his eyes.

Again.

BAMM!!

Again.

BBAAMM!!!

His last fist, channelling the essence of the Thousand Saint Sacrifice method, opened a massive crack in the Wolf King's skull!

The Wolf King, shocked and unwilling, perished!

Van's left arm fell to his side.

It dangled numbly. Van was sure that it was broken, but he was thrumming with adrenaline, and could barely feel the pain.

He had won!

Won over a massive wolf, over twice his size!

The emaciated wolves, collapsed all around the clearing, were shocked and couldn't believe their eyes! Their leader, strongest of all the wolves, had been killed just like that! If they hadn't truly been to weak and drained to stand up, they would have gathered together to tear this human boy to shreds. Unfortunately, they were genuinely unable to even stand, and so could only watch tearfully.

However, wolves were the type of animal which valued strength and hierarchies the most.

Now that their leader had been defeated, they were at a loss. On their side, there was no one who even came close to their ex-leader's strength. Did that mean…? But to take a human boy as their King was too humiliating!

They had regained some strength now but shut their eyes and pretended to be dead. Hopefully this deity of death would go away soon.

There was no such luck.

Van, humming from victory, ignored the pain in his arms and channelled more fleshly power cut into the Wolf King's fur with his bone knife. Slowly, he peeled off the fur.

Slice.

Slice.

Sliiiiiceee.

The fake-dead wolves trembled in fear. What was this? We get it, you are the leader, you are the leader! Do not threaten us like this! Unfortunately, these follower-wolves did not have hearts of steel, and hearing the ending of their glorious King, some quickly caved.

Slice.

SLIIICEE!

Van was peeling off the pelt on the Wolf King's backside when the first skinny wolf cautiously came up to him. It rested its wet nose on his palm and it blinked upwards at him, pretending to be cute.

Van was amused. He had not stopped skinning the Wolf King, despite its approach, because he was genuinely not afraid of the wolves at this point. They were so dehydrated and weak from their three days of fun that there was not a chance in Hell that they could pull a fast one him.

[Traitor!]

There was an outcry from the playing-dead wolves.

Van amusedly patted the wolf's snout and continued his work. The wolf triumphantly returned to its brethren, nose up high in the air, proud of itself and disdainful of the wolves that were crying traitor. Did they even want to live?

Seeing his warm reception of that first wolf, the other 'dead' wolves changed their minds. Slowly, more and more of them gathered around Van, wagging their tails as if they were pups instead of full grown, giant wolves. Following the first one, some acted cute, rolling around, displaying their pure-white, fluffy bellies, and whining softly.

One lay its head in his lap.

Gently, he pushed its head aside, focused on skinning the Wolf King.

It was precisely this type of unbelievable scene that Silver Mark Two stumbled upon.