12 Grandly, Like a King

When Mark Two arrived at the clearing, she had to rub her eyes to make sure she was not hallucinating. It was the type of scene that made one's jaws drop – she hadn't stumbled into some idiotic scholar's fantasy novel, the type of tripe that was popular in the capital city, right? This was real life, right?

Then why were dozens of giant wolves rubbing themselves on one young boy, acting cute and wagging their tales? As said boy was skinning an even larger wolf, she might add!

She approached, giving a small cough as warning.

Instantaneously, the wolves turned deadly serious. Ears pinned back against their skulls, they turned their ferocity full-throttle.

Mark Two smiled. She was not even the slightest bit intimidated. With a cultivation of the second level of Sea Establishment, she would flatten them with a sweep of her palm.

Inspecting the child, she noticed his aura of vitality first. He had dark eyes, slightly tanned skin and dark shiny hair, and for some reason, was shirtless. He had noticed her as soon as she landed in the clearing, which was not shabby for a mortal.

"Young man," she said sharply, "what are you doing on this mountain? Do you not know that something dangerous has happened here recently?"

The young man tilted his head, looking confused, "What happened?"

She rolled her eyes behind her mask, "The mountain shook, and crows circled the peak for days, you must have noticed."

Patience, she said to herself, he might have some clue of what happened here.

His expression cleared.

"Ah, that."

He did not speak again, head down and skinning the wolf at his feet. Silence ensued. The wolves around him glared at her.

She frowned but was too curious to resist.

"Why did you kill this wolf?"

He paused.

"Fight to the death." He mumbled later.

Mark Two thought this was rather obvious. But he was not forthcoming with more information. He was probably unused to speaking to humans, she thought to herself, raised by the wolves or some such.

"Did you grow up on this mountain?" She probed.

He nodded his head, locks of hair concealing his face.

Inspecting him further, she found something incredibly suspicious.How was he able to kill this wolf? It was clearly larger than the rest, and its fur looked tougher than normal too! How was an ordinary boy able to kill that?

Her expression changed, and her hand crept towards her weapon. Perhaps he was a hidden disciple of some sect, and they were involved with this matter!

"How did you kill this wolf," she said through her teeth, "and don't lie boy, or I will slit your throat right here."

The boy's dark eyes watched her warily.

Mark Two touched her weapon.

He pointed to something in the distance.

Turning, she looked far into the distance and saw a small watering hole.She moved towards it and was able to sense an aura of an ancient beast. She could not identify the exact beast but knew that it was powerful. Unfortunately, the aura was way too weak. She dipped her hand into the water and felt the unnatural chill, but there was barely any spiritual energy within. She sighed, she had almost found a treasure.

But it did explain why the boy's body was full of vitality. Perhaps he had bathed in this pond all his life, then, some of the power would slowly assimilate into his body. At this weak level of spiritual energy, this was probably the most powerful his fleshly body could get.

Having constructed this whole story in her head, she was satisfied. Her hand fell away from her weapon.

"I would advise you do not linger around here, boy. Lest the next disaster catch you."

She flashed away.

Mark Two did not remotely suspect him of anything at all.

Despite his vital aura, she could tell that he had not cultivated spiritual energy. Adding to that, his meridians seemed slightly stretched out and thin – he might never be able to cultivate.

He couldn't be the reason the flame-aura had been released either, as he would have been blasted into bits if he had been near during the event. She reasoned that this would also be why it was highly doubtful he had any useful information.

How wrong she was.

Mark Two arrived by Mark Three's side and nodded to him in greeting.

They remained in watchful silence over the mysterious hole.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Despite his relaxed skinning of the wolf, Van knew immediately when someone intruded on the clearing.

Immediately, his hackles were raised – anyone who could arrive so silently and skilfully was a threat until they proved themselves friendly.

The person watched silently for a few moments before stepping forth and coughing lightly.

A masked, blue-robed figure was revealed.

The gleaming silver mask was striking, and slightly sinister due to the crescent-like slits left for the eyes to see through. They walked forwards with an arrogant confidence.

They spoke, revealing them to be a woman.

"Young man," the lady said, with a demanding tone of voice, "what are you doing on this mountain? Do you not know that something dangerous has happened here recently?"

Van, who was already wary, immediately put a strike next to this masked-lady's name. Although he was curious to know for what reason she was here, he had a feeling it was to do with the ring and the lotus in that strange hole in the ground.

The ring was now on him, so Van was going to feign ignorance all the way.

The best way to do that, he reckoned, was to emulate that dumb, idiot neighbour he had when he was five. The one who he threw mud pies to get a rise out of because he was so damn tight-lipped and expressionless.

Keeping his face locked in a dumb, vaguely listening expression, he responded curtly.

He could see her growing frustration, but from her approach so far, could tell she had no intention of harming him.

That was, until she placed her hand on the weapon at her waist, then Van was forced to listen to what she was saying.

"How did you kill this wolf," the lady gritted out, "and don't lie boy, or I will slit your throat right here."

Thinking quickly, Van decided to be half-truthful, and pointed in the direction of the pond.

With a huff, the silver-masked lady stalked over to the pond and dipped her hand in it.

Van felt very lucky. He had pulled the green turtle shell out of the pond, which had absorbed much of the qi, leaving just faint traces of what was originally there.

The turtle shell was now in his mind, and he knew that she couldn't see into it, otherwise she would have discovered the Jet as well!

As expected, she discovered that the pool, despite carrying traces of ancient aura, was much too low in energy to be useful.

From her silence, Van was somehow able to feel that she was constructing little stories in her head about how he had been able to kill a wolf three times his size. He stayed silent, encouraging the wild tales she must have been making in her mind. He didn't even need to speak.

At last she spoke.

"I would advise you do not linger around here, boy. Lest the next disaster catch you."

In leaps that took her metres away at a time, she disappeared from his sight.

The wolves relaxed.

"Fat lot of use you lot are," he said to the wolves, "I sensed her first!"

The wolves, who had returned to acting cute and dumb, whined. In all fairness, their senses had dulled to nothing due to their gnawing hunger, thirst and eagerness to act like puppies to earn his favour.

Understanding their ingratiating behaviour, Van waved them off. But as he did, a spark went off in his brain and Van grinned.

"Go, go hunt some food, rest and regain your strength. Tomorrow, you lot will be plucking herbs for me!"

_________________________________________________________________________________

Van's fourth day in a row living on the mountain was his most relaxed yet.

Comfortably lying on his back and eating a roasted peafowl leg that his wolf subordinates had offered him in the morning, he directed them to do this or that and go here and there to fetch this thing or that thing.

Not even three hours later, four groups of wolves had returned with the bamboo baskets Van had made that morning, filled to the brim with Iron Grasses and Mooncap Mushrooms.

Van was immensely cheered. Imagine, just a few days ago, Van was running around like a headless chicken in a panic looking for these things and getting mocked by a measly Red Pinion bird and chased down by a massive black bull!

Now he had wolf-subordinates to do these things for him.

Giving them all affectionate scratches on the ears and chin, he praised them up and down.

He looked at the herbs within the basket.

They were slightly gross due to wolf-saliva, and not plucked very well because they were literally just pulled out with teeth, but they were mostly whole, and very healthy-looking. Probably because they were taken from areas where humans rarely intruded upon and had time to grow big and strong.

Hm?

Van spied a few bunches of Iron Grass that seemed different from the rest. Larger, and with a serrated edge, they also gave off a slightly spiritual aura.

He plucked them out decisively and shoved them in his rucksack.

Van whistled, and a wolf emerged from the pack. With a black patch of fur on his chest, this was the good-for-nothing wolf that had approached him first yesterday, pressing his nose into Van's palm.

Fittingly, Van named him "Blackheart," for his traitorous, cowardly ways - and proceeded to use him as his second-in-command.

"I will ride you down the mountain," Van declared grandly.

With the ex-Top Dog's pelt on his shoulders and sitting on top of a large silver wolf twice his height, Van descended the mountain, as if a king.

He was followed by a parade of four dozen menacing wolves. The mountain watched in wary silence.

He was returning to the village!