Chapter 1 - 1 Becoming the Clan Leader

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 Becoming the Clan Leader

Snowflakes swirled around, a harsh winter—in a distant land, during the cold December.

"Hah~~~"

Warm breath exhaled and turned into white mist, drifting in the air and vanishing in an instant.

"Uncle."

Bailuo and the old man hid behind a rock. He called out but saw the old man raise his hand, "Wait a bit longer."

Using the cover, they carefully observed the snow-white clearing ahead in the forest.

There was a creature resembling a lion, silver-white in color—it was called Silver Mane, a peculiar beast that lived in the wilderness, liked to run around, and changed the color of its fur with the seasons.

Its beautiful silver-white fur was the reason for its name, Silver Mane, which was at its most magnificent during winter, a perfect New Year's gift for the Boshan forest keepers.

However, Silver Mane was a fierce monster at the top of the food chain; not only rare but also extremely difficult to hunt.

Many hunters, lured by greed, had become its prey.

Very dangerous.

You could die.

These were the two things people of Boshan thought of first when mentioning Silver Mane.

The mountain village where the uncle and nephew lived did not have creatures like the Silver Mane. They had only heard rumors and specifically crossed mountains and valleys for several days and nights before finally finding its tracks.

"Almost time."

"Have Feiya get ready."

Uncle Saros's eyes narrowed as he stared intently at the Silver Mane.

Bailuo understood and lifted his hand, then gestured forward.

In the distance, on a tree branch, a woman who was completely covered in snow and almost perfectly blended with the sky moved—she pulled out not one but two arrows from the quiver slung diagonally behind her.

"Be careful."

"I know."

Bailuo nodded, then gripped the axe in his hand tighter.

Saros did not look back at Bailuo, only the old man with white hair dressed in gray-black fleece concentrated his energy. He stepped out from behind the rock and exposed himself directly to Silver Mane's gaze.

Silver Mane was fierce and belligerent, certainly no rabbit; it was not afraid of being startled.

This was a King, the tyrant of the snowy fields and mountains, its prey ranging from Snow Wolves to giant bears. What more of a mere person?

"Roar!!"

Silver Mane roared but did not rashly attack—it was cautious, just like Saros in front of it, an old warrior who had been through countless battles.

A man and a beast faced each other, each reflected in the other's eyes.

The air was cold, and the snow kept falling.

Though the old warrior had just brushed snow off his shoulders, a new layer had quickly formed.

But the old warrior remained stoic, enduring the cold, exposing his hands to the icy air, firmly grasping his weapon.

"Roar."

Silver Mane had never encountered such a human. It wasn't particularly intelligent, but its astonishing instincts made this beast seem exceptionally shrewd.

It sensed danger on Saros, the aura of someone who stood at the pinnacle of their species, just like itself.

"Shhh."

Silver Mane's mournful howls filled the air, but as it shook its head the arrows, nearly embedded in its brain, caused even sharper pain.

The kingly figure tried to rise but movement in its wounded spine led to its direct collapse.

No one wants to admit defeat, even less to accept death.

But reality does not care about your willingness; it only tells you—the tide has turned!

Finally, Silver Mane fell to the ground, motionless.

"Wait."

Bailuo did not approach, and the old uncle stood aside, as did the elder sister, who stood in the distance, gazing at Silver Mane.

Silver Mane's fur was extremely tough; apart from its eyes, there was almost no way to harm it. To skin it, one had to crouch right in front of Silver Mane, starting from its eyes.

This was too dangerous!

"It should, be over."

Silver Mane had not moved for over 20 minutes; Bailuo quickly moved forward, suddenly pulling out the arrows that had pierced Silver Mane, and it did not react.

He was not new to hunting in the mountains with the old uncle, from the precious Snow Fox to the mightily strong polar bear, years spent lying in the snow-covered ground, entire nights on the ridge, endless days and nights without sleep, he had tasted all kinds of hardship.

"We have succeeded."

Isefia appeared from the trees at some point; she walked through the snow with a light voice.

Even Bailuo could not hear a sound, only sensing her presence instinctively.

"Silver Mane is too large, we can't take it back."

Isefia squatted down and then pulled out a blade specifically designed for boning and skinning.

She intended to dismember Silver Mane, strip its magnificent fur right there, and take some of the rare ingredients for preservation.

As for the remaining flesh, it would be left to the other hunters in the snow mountains.

The road home would be more peaceful only if they had their fill.

"Let me do it."

Bailuo quickly took the boning knife from his elder sister's hand.

Even though they had hunted such an incredible prey, the elder sister remained solemn, as if she was always on guard against the seemingly dead creature's potential counterattack.

Seeing the woman's hair, wet with sweat and solidified in the cold wind, Bailuo felt somewhat distressed.

She was Bailuo's sworn sister, the orphaned daughter of a comrade-in-arms taken in by the old uncle Saros, and the fiancée he pledged himself to.

"Dad, do we need to sell this Silver Mane?"

Seeing half of Silver Mane's skin peeled off, the old man finally stood up straight.

Like the elder sister, he had been staring intently from beginning to end, not daring to relax his vigilance for a moment.

Mountain beasts are not humans, they have no humanity, but this does not mean they are foolish.

On the contrary, they are far more cunning and shrewd than you think.

Therefore, when dealing with them, a hunter can never be too careful.

"No."

This was not Saros's first hunt for a Silver Mane; he looked repeatedly before finally pulling out a pipe from his pocket.

Perhaps delighted by catching the prey, even the usually stern old uncle showed a rare trace of joy on his face.

"Although Silver Mane is valuable, no matter how much it's worth, we will not sell it."

The old uncle looked at Bailuo, then patted his shoulder forcefully, with expectation and approval in his eyes: "It is your trophy, from today onwards, you are the leader of the Yatun Clan, our new chief."