The totem of the Hailasu tribe was a golden eagle, sharp-eyed and majestic. As the shaman activated it, brilliant light erupted, seemingly reflecting the brilliance of the sun.
A faint sense of awe descended from above, and strange, ambiguous power surrounded Meng Qi.
Faced with such ancestral totems, Meng Qi dared not be careless. He felt as if he were floating in a dark universe, surrounded by illusory, intangible radiant threads. The only thing he could grasp was the one slowly approaching.
“Willingly accept this oath?” he suddenly spoke, asking in short, clipped steppe language.
The shaman was of an ordinary rank. Though slightly suspicious, he assumed the other was simply being cautious and thus murmured, “Before the Eternal Sky and the Golden Eagle, there is no falsehood.”
The Eternal Life Sect had incorporated nearly all the totemic deities of the grasslands under the dominion of the Eternal Sky.
Upon hearing these words, Meng Qi bowed his head, appearing extremely devout. He activated his Yuan Shen secret technique, causing the illusion to ripple. The karmic thread shifted direction, drifting toward the shaman and attaching itself to him.
The Eternal Sky and the Golden Eagle naturally would not truly “watch” over such a minor matter. The invocation of their power was merely symbolic, so they showed no reaction to the change in the oath-bound parties.
Unconsciously, the shaman felt a momentary weight upon his body, but quickly regained normalcy, assuming it was due to his earlier exertion. Once again raising his gaze with arrogance, he took the gems and gold and left the tent with exaggerated pride after Agula’s respectful farewell.
“Making an oath makes us brothers,” Agula, no longer his usual composed self, became unusually warm and enthusiastic, causing Meng Qi to secretly feel suspicious. After all, this wasn’t about recruiting a powerful ally for himself; it was merely adding someone capable of confronting the Wolf King directly to the Wolf-Killing Society. It was understandable to feel hopeful about revenge, but such excessive enthusiasm was abnormal unless the Wolf-Killing Society meant more to him than mere vengeance.
Meng Qi nodded indifferently, still maintaining the cold demeanor of a wandering swordsman.
Agula seemed to realize his own overenthusiasm and reined in his smile, saying, “The more strength we add, the more hope we have for revenge. Thinking of Alsire’s eyes that refused to close at his death, I often can’t control my emotions.”
“You joined at just the right time. In two days, the southern liaison will arrive, gathering nearby members to relay news of the Wolf King’s whereabouts from other regions, which will also serve as a ceremony for your induction.”
Southern liaison… Meng Qi nodded impassively, suddenly realizing that the Wolf-Killing Society was a rather tightly organized group, far beyond the level of a loose revenge alliance that spontaneously exchanged information.
After exiting the tent, Old Wu’en sneered, “Agula has four sons and three daughters, but none of them are as outstanding as Alsire. No wonder he bears a grudge and dares to join the Wolf-Killing Society despite the risk of retaliation from the Wolf King.”
“If I were him, I would make the same choice. Though it’s often said that vengeance only begets more vengeance, I hope it is the enemy who is thus advised.” Seeing no one around, Meng Qi switched to official language, speaking fluently for the first time.
…
Two days later, Meng Qi and Batu followed Agula toward an unremarkable tent.
“Who is he?” A grassland martial artist with nine opened orifices stood at the entrance. Seeing Meng Qi, he refused to step aside and allow entry into the tent.
He recognized both Agula and Batu, but who was this wandering swordsman with the mustache?
“This is the newly inducted Zhebie,” Agula whispered, “who has already sworn an oath under the shaman’s witness.”
“Inducted?” The grassland martial artist scrutinized Meng Qi sharply, seemingly doubting his eligibility. It wasn’t as if just anyone willing to swear an oath could join!
Then he met Meng Qi’s cold gaze, and a cold, sharp sensation crept up his throat, as if an invisible long blade rested there. One wrong move, and his head would instantly separate from his body.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Instinctively, he took a few steps back, clearing the path.
Witnessing this, Agula gave an almost imperceptible nod, feeling deeply satisfied with his choice.
Inside the tent, it was warm like spring, with several copper stoves. The floor was carpeted, the inner walls adorned with woolen felt, and golden ornaments arranged tastefully, creating a luxurious yet tasteful decor that sharply contrasted with the tent’s unassuming exterior.
Inside sat an elderly man cross-legged, eyes slightly narrowed, inhaling smoke from a grassland specialty leaf, his expression quite relaxed.
His fur coat was black and smooth, placed neatly to one side.
“Temur, with the grasslands blocked by heavy snow, you still came so early?” Agula greeted casually and familiarly.
Temur put down the rolled leaf, exhaling white mist, “It was precisely because the grasslands were blocked by heavy snow that I set out early. Who is this?”
“Zhebie, a member I recommended for induction. He’s a powerful warrior who survived an encounter with the Wolf King.” Agula turned to introduce Meng Qi, “Temur, a renowned martial artist from Jeliumu, whose most promising disciple died at the Wolf King’s hands.”
Without needing Agula’s explanation, Meng Qi could sense Temur’s strength. Though he couldn’t accurately judge it, he at least understood that Temur surpassed the ordinary nine-orifice level. Whether he had reached the Half-Step Beyond-World stage would only be clear after observing Temur’s movements.
“I’ve grown old. If I encountered the Wolf King alone, I probably wouldn’t survive,” Temur said, giving Meng Qi a deep look.
Agula sat cross-legged and casually asked, “What about the others?”
“They couldn’t make it. I’ll have to run the errand myself and inform them later,” Temur replied slowly and agedly, “Recently, that tiger in Jeliumu has taken a strong interest in southern goods. You should be cautious.”
Agula nodded and began conversing with Temur, not touching on the Wolf King but instead discussing hidden matters of Gegen Gole and Jeliumu, as well as sharing channels for distributing southern goods and stolen items.
Sitting beside them, Meng Qi remained silent, somewhat shocked. Information often meant opportunity. The mutual sharing between Agula and Temur was highly beneficial to both parties. Coupled with Agula’s status and Temur’s strength, their combined power was no simple sum.
The Wolf-Killing Society’s members probably weren’t lacking in such mediocre individuals. When isolated, they weren’t worth much attention, but if united across the grasslands, exchanging information and supporting each other, they would become a formidable force… Meng Qi mused thoughtfully. Even after killing the Wolf King, they might not disband the Wolf-Killing Society, having tasted the rewards.
At that moment, a hearty laugh came from the tent’s entrance: “I heard a hero has joined us?”
Without turning around, Meng Qi already pictured the newcomer in his mind—thick eyebrows and big eyes, wearing a fur hat, dressed elaborately, with a decorative golden short sword at his waist. He appeared young, probably around thirty.
“Dar Achi, our Wolf-Killing Society’s southern liaison, a renowned wandering martial artist on the grasslands, whose younger brother was killed by the Wolf King…” Agula introduced both parties.
Dar Achi’s every move was accompanied by a slight presence of heaven and earth power. Meng Qi was certain he had already opened the ancestral orifice between his eyebrows. With his youth and vigor, his strength was likely superior to Temur’s.
Dar Achi removed his fur coat and sat down without ceremony, taking a deep breath, “I don’t doubt Agula’s judgment. Brother Zhebie’s strength must be close to the Wolf King’s. He is a valuable addition to our Wolf-Killing Society. Once we finish things here and the snow melts, I will take you to meet the president.”
At the mention of the president, both Temur and Agula showed a slight sense of awe, but neither said more, indicating the president’s mysterious nature.
Dar Achi, similarly reserved, shifted the topic, “No need for pleasantries among brothers. Zhebie brother, I’ll directly tell you about this wolf cub Tie Sheng.”
“Alright,” Meng Qi was exactly waiting for this.
“Without going into other matters, I believe Zhebie brother already knows. I’ll just tell you what our Wolf-Killing Society has discovered,” Dar Achi’s expression turned serious, “Although this wolf cub Tie Sheng seems to randomly kill anyone capable, we found that aside from a few weak exceptions, the strength of his targets increases periodically…”
Dar Achi explained clearly. Their analysis of the Wolf King’s killing patterns revealed that every so often, the Wolf King’s choice of target would suddenly jump in strength, then stabilize at that level. This pattern repeated several times. Of course, there were occasional instances where the target was either far above or below the Wolf King’s strength, but these were rare exceptions—either easily defeated or forced to flee, only to be hunted later.
“We suspect these surges are when Tie Sheng is about to break through. By daringly hunting opponents significantly stronger than himself, he breaks through barriers,” Agula added.
Meng Qi recalled the information he had reviewed and nodded slightly in agreement.
Calculating the time, the Wolf King should be nearly recovered from the injuries Meng Qi had inflicted. Given his previous cultivation level, he should be approaching a stage of seeking a breakthrough. If that were true, there might be an opportunity. However, the issue was that there were many suitable candidates on the grasslands, making it difficult to determine the Wolf King’s target.
Of course, all this assumed the Wolf King hadn’t encountered other extraordinary circumstances or recovered earlier than expected. Based on the Wolf King’s frequency of attacks in the grasslands over the past six months, this possibility seemed low.
Dar Achi’s words confirmed Meng Qi’s thoughts: “Although Tie Sheng rarely attacks after returning from the Central Plains, seemingly reaching a stage where he is about to break through, aside from the Golden Tent and the Eternal Life Sect’s core disciples, there are still many grassland warriors strong enough to meet his needs for advancement. We can only focus on key targets.”
“However,” he shifted tone, “The fact that Tie Sheng can choose ‘breakthrough targets’ so accurately makes me think he isn’t truly a lone wolf. Moreover, before heading south, he once killed five people, two of whom were secret members of our Wolf-Killing Society. How coincidental can that be?”
“So, you investigated along this line?” Meng Qi struggled to speak in the prairie language, his head nearly spinning from Dar Achi’s lengthy explanation.
Dar Achi nodded, “We deliberately leaked some information, tracking it back, and discovered three suspicious individuals, one of whom is in Gegen Gole. That’s one of the reasons I came here.”
“Who?” Agula and Temur’s eyes burned with intensity, even showing signs of bloodshot.
Meng Qi remained expressionless, maintaining his cold demeanor, which Dar Achi secretly admired as the bearing of a true expert.
“Na Risu,” Dar Achi revealed the name.
“Him?” Both Agula and Temur showed serious expressions.
“Na Risu?” Meng Qi had no idea who that was.
Dar Achi explained, “He was once a notorious horse bandit. After reaching the Half-Step Beyond-World stage, he handed his horse gang over to his deputy and came to Gegen Gole to sell goods for various bandit groups, sitting on the profits while diligently cultivating, hoping for the Eternal Sky’s favor and the convergence of inner and outer forces.”
Once he becomes a Beyond-World expert, he could become a guardian martial artist for a medium-sized tribe or join a large tribe, a hundred times better than being a horse bandit. After all, under the rule of the Golden Tent Khan, small-scale banditry might be tolerated, but if they grow too powerful, they would certainly be eradicated.
“We will release more unfavorable news about the Wolf King. I hope Elder Temur and Brother Zhebie can monitor Na Risu and his subordinates, tracking them to find the Wolf King!” Dar Achi lifted his head slightly, his tone turning grim.
Meng Qi gripped his sword hilt and said indifferently, “I hope your information is accurate.”
With that, he rose, turned, and left the tent with his sword.
Seeing Zhebie’s attitude, Dar Achi narrowed his eyes slightly and murmured, “I also hope you won’t disappoint us.”
…
Thick clouds obscured the moon, and snowflakes continued to fall.
Meng Qi and Temur lay motionless on the tops of different tents, completely covered in snow.
Someone stealthily entered Na Risu’s tent and delivered the previously obtained information.
After this person left, the entire night passed without Na Risu making any move, causing doubts about Dar Achi’s judgment.
However, both Meng Qi and Temur remained patient, enduring the heavy snow and bitter cold throughout the night.
At dawn, many subordinates entered Na Risu’s tent, one after another, leaving it impossible to determine who might carry out any information—or if anyone would.
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