Chapter 25: Skillfully Killing the Wolf…

The wolves weren’t really interested in socializing with people—this encounter was purely accidental. The prey they had been chasing, a lone horse deer, had fled in panic and just happened to run in this direction, leading to this unexpected and fateful rendezvous.

There was actually someone in front of them?

“Ouuuh…”

With a signal from the head wolf, whose sense of smell was exceptionally sharp, the wolves immediately slowed their chase and spread out into a semi-fan formation, approaching cautiously.

The fleeing horse deer—whether due to trauma from being chased or simple lack of intelligence—did not take advantage of the lull to escape. Instead, it hesitated, frequently looking back, and then, rather foolishly, ran straight toward the rock where Fang Dahai was waiting.

Did it want to seek protection? Or was it trying to throw itself off the rock and end it all?

Whatever the horse deer was thinking, Fang Dahai—who had been quietly waiting on the stone—was definitely surprised by the sight.

Yesterday, after discovering a blood relation by accident, he had focused entirely on tracking down the bandits, and hadn’t caught anything substantial. He had thought he’d return with nothing more than a few pheasants and rabbits to show for it, barely enough to bluff his way past others. But he hadn’t expected Heaven to favor a good man like him—delivering prey right to his feet.

How could he let it slip away? Whether it was the horse deer or the wolf pack, if he didn’t clean it all up today, his years of training would have been in vain.

Fang Dahai’s heart leapt with joy, but he didn’t act immediately. Instead, his eyes swept toward the burning green gazes of the wolves hidden in the forest behind.

Wolves were greedy by nature. Having chased prey this far, there was no way they would simply give up the meat so close to their jaws. If he wanted to take them all down in one move, the key now was to wait—to let them make the first move. Compared to a trained human, a wolf’s patience was still limited.

Sure enough, the wolves didn’t wait long. Although they remained wary of Fang Dahai—this lone figure who gave off a faint sense of danger—the tempting scent of venison was too much to resist. Even the head wolf couldn’t suppress the hunger of his starving pack any longer. After a short hesitation, he let out a low growl, signaling the lowest-ranked Ohio wolf to begin a tentative attack on the horse deer.

The Ohio wolf, the weakest in the pack, was still a threat. The moment it darted out from behind, the horse deer instinctively bolted again. But it was quickly flanked by other wolves, and as it darted left and right in panic, it only drew closer to Fang Dahai—gaining nothing else in the process.

Meanwhile, the Ohio wolves had already landed a few successes, inflicting two rather deep wounds on the deer’s legs.

Fang Dahai, standing motionless on the stone, didn’t react at all. Other than holding his bow and arrow ready, he didn’t so much as twitch. This unmoving posture made the head wolf, who had been cautiously observing him all this time, lower its guard. At this point, it became convinced that Fang Dahai was just a silver-painted scarecrow—a harmless passerby posing as a threat. The wolves could kill and feast without concern.

With this conclusion, the head wolf gave a decisive order, again letting out a soft, growling whimper to coordinate the attack.

Two wolves flanking from the left and right sprang forward—one baring its sharp teeth as it lunged for the horse deer’s throat, while the other launched itself with a fierce pounce, aiming for the deer’s hindquarters.

At that very moment, Fang Dahai struck. Without hesitation, a flurry of arrows shot out toward the three targets that were dangerously close.

The nearest wolf was the first to fall. Just as its snout came within ten centimeters of the horse deer’s neck, an arrow pierced its eye. Almost simultaneously, the panicked horse deer was struck in the neck and collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud. The final arrow veered slightly off course—it missed the eye of the trailing wolf, but struck its chest squarely. Though not instantly fatal, the hit left the wolf incapacitated and helpless in the blink of an eye.

Fang Dahai’s sudden attack shattered the fragile standoff between man and beast, enraging the head wolf. Its ferocious eyes snapped toward him, and the rest of the wolves, who had been cautiously circling and biding their time, began to whimper and stir, ready to launch a reckless assault on Fang Dahai.

But what difference would that make? At such close range, even if Fang Dahai hadn’t acted first, who could guarantee these wolves wouldn’t have turned on him after taking down the horse deer? This was a kill-or-be-killed situation—Fang Dahai had simply been clear-headed enough to make the first move.

And because of that clarity, he had already rehearsed this moment countless times in his mind. He had predicted exactly how the wolves would react. So now, his response was composed and efficient.

He seized the opportunity while the head wolf was distracted in rage and the others surged forward instinctively. Drawing his bow again, he fired several more arrows in quick succession, targeting the wolves within view.

Each arrow either struck down a wolf or wounded it enough to reduce the immediate threat.

As the remaining wolves paused, warily retreating to regroup and reorganize their attack formation, Fang Dahai swiftly stowed away his bow and quiver into his spatial storage. In their place, he pulled out a long wooden tube and began shooting rapidly into every shadowy area where a wolf might be hiding.

Fang Dahai knew well that although he had once trained in the use of triple-barreled cannons from the Shenji Battalion of the Ming Dynasty, the difference between ancient firearms and modern ones was too vast to rely on them in the same way. What truly made a difference was his own marksmanship. That was why, from the very start, he had chosen the bow and arrow as his primary weapon.

But that doesn’t mean the wooden tube hidden in his spatial storage was useless. Given Fang Dahai’s accuracy with cold weapons—even if this wasn’t his weapon of choice—it was more than enough in a situation like this, where precision wasn’t everything. What mattered was deterrence, and this weapon had enough killing power. As long as it grazed the target, it would be enough to cause the wolves considerable pain.

And sure enough, even though Fang Dahai was clearly relying only on his sense of smell and hearing to roughly determine direction and blindly fire, his shots still landed effectively. The wolves, which had instinctively hidden in the bushes to avoid arrows and tried to make tactical adjustments, ended up suffering heavy losses. Many wolves in poor positions were struck. Those hit in the legs or feet were considered lucky. Those struck in the abdomen were truly unfortunate, losing their ability to fight almost immediately.

Fang Dahai didn’t know exactly how many wolves this round of gunfire had taken down. But judging from the head wolf’s increasingly agitated behavior—and the faint hesitation in its steps—he understood clearly: the tide of the battle had shifted. The dynamics between hunter and prey were beginning to change.

He swapped the long wooden tube for a short one loaded with bullets and tucked it into the back of his waistband. Then, with a flip of his hand, he switched weapons again—this time to a knife, the familiar Embroidered Spring Blade style used by the Jinyiwei.

Gripping the familiar weapon, a heat stirred in Fang Dahai’s chest. The sounds of tonight’s hunt had rekindled something in him—some remnants of the past. His gaze toward the wolves grew sharper, gleaming with intensity. An uncontrollable urge surged within him. His upper body leaned forward instinctively, and he let out a fierce shout:

“Come on! What are you waiting for? Grandpa’s right here!”

Calling himself “grandpa” in front of the wolves—was that necessary? They couldn’t understand human language anyway. Wasn’t that just a waste of words?

No, it wasn’t. Even if the wolves didn’t understand the words, they could sense the provocative tone and intent behind Fang Dahai’s voice.

“Awooooo—!”

A long, piercing howl suddenly rang out. From the grass, behind the trees, the soft rustling of footsteps began to echo—wolves were emerging in response to the call.

Fang Dahai’s ears twitched as he listened closely, silently estimating the numbers.

Another ten or so? This pack really wasn’t small. There had to be at least twenty wolves in total. If he wanted to retreat from this place unharmed, he would have to go on a killing spree.

Who knew how much time that would take?

Hmm, perhaps he should lay some bait?

Thinking this, Fang Dahai cautiously took a small step forward, preparing to climb down from the rock. Sure enough, the moment he moved, the previously retreating head wolf immediately halted and raised its head again. In the grass and trees on both sides, the remaining uninjured wolves also began to stir. The tense standoff returned, and danger thickened in the air once more.

In many novels, people tended to believe that wolves were extremely vengeful creatures—capable of stalking their enemies for years, never forgetting a grudge. As if the moment you encountered a wolf, it wouldn’t stop until someone was dead. People instinctively feared them, believing they would pursue you relentlessly until the entire pack or the target was wiped out.

But was that really true?

Fang Dahai knew better. If you merely injured or killed one or two wolves in a pack, yes, they might retaliate. Vengeance served as a way for the head wolf to maintain its authority. But if you killed them hard enough—reducing the pack by more than 70%, killing until fear set in—then you had little to worry about. The surviving wolves? They absolutely wouldn’t come back looking for revenge.

Why?

Because at that point, their survival instincts would kick in, and the priority would shift to preserving what remained of the pack.

Think the wolves you see out hunting are the entire pack? Don’t be naïve. They might look like vagabonds, but wolves have dens just like any other animal. In every pack, there are males and females, and naturally, there are pups. But have you ever seen pups in a hunting party? Rarely. Even adult females are few. The ones you don’t see? They’re in the den, guarding their home.

So if the hunting party loses more than 70% of its members, it endangers the old, the sick, and the pups back in the den. In such a crisis, who still has the luxury of thinking about revenge? The sensible choice is to hurry back and guard the den!

Fang Dahai’s objective was simple: kill another wave—enough to reduce the number of mobile wolves to single digits. At that point, even if the head wolf was still reluctant, it would have no choice but to retreat. And as long as he didn’t go chasing after it, trying to provoke more trouble, he could safely gather the wolves that now lay on the ground as his trophies.

Ten or more wolves, plus a horse deer—what a fantastic haul!

Realizing this, even someone as composed as Fang Dahai couldn’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken. Without thinking, he took a few more steps forward.

That’s why you can’t be careless!

The moment Fang Dahai stepped past the edge of the rock and set foot on the sloping ground, wolves that had long been lying in ambush on both sides suddenly leapt out. Just like how they had dealt with the horse deer earlier, two wolves—one from the left, one from the right—lunged at him simultaneously. It was a coordinated strike meant to force Fang Dahai into choosing just one target—only one he could react to in time, right?

The wolves had clearly underestimated him.

With a flash of silver, Fang Dahai moved. His hands snapped outward, and two throwing knives flew through the air—one to the left, one to the right. Both struck with deadly precision, burying into the necks of the charging wolves. They collapsed to the ground within ten meters of him.

At the very moment the throwing knives left his hands, Fang Dahai suddenly dropped his body low. Then, with a powerful stomp, he rebounded backward, springing a full meter away. While still airborne, his arm was already swinging—slashing his knife to the left in a sharp arc.

They say people follow their blades—but in this instant, Fang Dahai’s eyes followed his blade. And in the brief flash of steel, he saw it: a wolf had leapt at him from behind. The knife met its chest and abdomen mid-air. As his blade struck, blood poured onto the ground in a crimson burst.

Yes, this ambush hadn’t come from just the left and right—three wolves had attacked simultaneously from the left, right, and rear. Wolves truly were cunning beasts. Fortunately, Fang Dahai had never let down his guard for even a second. His keen ears had already picked up on the unusual sound behind him, allowing him to react in time.

After losing three wolves in quick succession, the head wolf grew agitated. It let out a long, echoing howl. In the next moment, five wolves charged at Fang Dahai from five different directions. At this point, there was no second option—only a life-or-death battle.

No—for Fang Dahai, there was still another way.

He swung his long knife. The tip clearly avoided the vital areas of the approaching wolf—but as it scraped past its forelimb, the wolf… vanished?

And it didn’t stop there. With each strike of Fang Dahai’s blade, the same thing kept happening—wolves simply disappeared.

Even more bizarre, a wolf’s claw had just landed on Fang Dahai’s arm, clearly poised to injure him and claim the first blood. But the moment it touched him, it too disappeared, as if it had never been there.

From beginning to end, it all happened in the blink of an eye. All five wolves in that wave of attack were suddenly gone without a trace.

What kind of sorcery was this?

The head wolf was completely stunned! If it had hands, it would’ve been rubbing its eyes in disbelief. This defied all logic. Its confusion was evident in its hesitant steps. The remaining wolves didn’t advance either. Instead, they lowered their heads, baring their teeth and growling in warning. But Fang Dahai’s sharp eyes saw through their bluff—beneath their threatening expressions were hesitant steps and nervously lowered tails.

“Well? Still coming? Come on then!” Fang Dahai shouted with a sneer. “How many of you are left? Five? Six? Don’t make me wipe out the entire litter.”

Of course, it wasn’t possible for all of them to die. As he had noted earlier, the wolves were now facing an existential threat. And in the face of Fang Dahai’s taunts, the head wolf, though still glaring at him fiercely, didn’t act recklessly. After only a few seconds of hesitation, it made its decision.

“Owooo…”

A sorrowful whimper echoed. At once, all the wolves that could still move began to retreat. Even the injured ones—so long as they could still walk or run—didn’t hesitate. From cautious withdrawal to full-speed flight, their decisiveness was so swift that even Fang Dahai couldn’t help but secretly admire it.

“Efficient and ruthless—now that’s decisiveness.”