boyutpedia Chapter 27: The Roar of Tigers and the Howl of Wolves
Chapter 27: The Roar of Tigers and the Howl of Wolves
The moment the barrier shattered, the surrounding wind stopped, even the usual chirping of insects in the mountains fell silent, and the entire Canglang Mountain seemed to have been frozen in time. Lin Yan hid behind the rock wall, cold sweat dripping from his fingertips onto the stone surface, as cool as jade soaked in a spring, yet his heart burned with anxiety—he had watched with his own eyes as the pale blue membrane that had protected the spiritual spring for decades crumbled just like that.
A crimson light exploded first, not with the usual liveliness of fireworks, but more like the explosive force of a red-hot iron being plunged into cold water, instantly tearing a gaping hole in the ink-black night sky. Fragments drifted slowly, carrying a scorching heat, and when they landed on Lin Yan's hand, they felt remarkably like the rouge his mother used to apply to his eyebrows when he was a child—only the warmth instantly turned into a stinging pain. Every fragment of light shone brightly, making the eyes of the wolves below appear even greener, like phosphorescent flames flickering eerily in a grave.
Immediately afterward, flames erupted. This fire was neither firewood in a stove nor a bonfire during festivals; it was something ingrained deep within the beast's bones, a dark, almost blackish red, like congealed blood, tinged with a somber, inky hue. Even from a distance of several dozen feet, Lin Yan felt his eyelids burning, his nostrils filled with scalding heat, as if the air he inhaled was about to scorch his throat—this was the primordial fire of a Transcendent Realm demon, rumored to be able to melt gold and iron; now it seemed, it was absolutely true.
When the flames surged forth, they carried the force of a tsunami, yet were eerily still. Grass blades curled into ash the moment they touched them, scattering with a gust of wind; the rocks touched by the flames slowly softened, like melting beeswax, hissing and emitting white steam. The air was filled with crackling sounds, not the crisp sound of burning firewood, but the muffled sizzling of things being roasted, making one's teeth ache.
The wolves had gathered in the clearing. A few by the stream were licking their paws, while those in the bushes were gnawing on some unknown animal bones. The ones at the crossroads were alert, their ears perked up—they were once the tyrants of these mountains, but now they were prey under the fire. The dozen or so closest to the barrier didn't even have time to raise their heads before the black and red flames engulfed them.
"Aww—"
The wolf howls pierced the air, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, but even more shrill. Lin Yan covered his mouth to prevent himself from vomiting—the wolves' fur first became charred and curled, then burst into flames, their flesh sizzling in the fire, oil splattering out and exploding on the ground with a loud thud. In the blink of an eye, they were reduced to several black lumps, too weak to even struggle, their half-screams stuck in their throats, more chilling than any loud cry.
The wolves further away managed to catch their breath a few more times, but they only suffered more. One blue-furred wolf, seemingly at the early stage of Body Tempering, turned and ran down the mountain. The moment its hind legs kicked up, flames engulfed its tail. The fire seemed to have a mind of its own, climbing up its tail and quickly reaching its back. It rolled on the ground, its claws scattering dirt, but the more it rolled, the more the fire burned, and a hoarse sound came from its throat, like a broken bellows. In no time, only a charred skeleton remained, its wolf form unrecognizable.
The smells gradually intensified. The bloody smell was hot, with a slightly sweet, fishy tang, like the blood of a freshly slaughtered chicken splattered on the stove; the burnt smell was bitter, like burnt cotton wool, a single breath of which would make your lungs ache; and there was also the sulfurous smell unique to demonic fire, so spicy it made your eyes sting. The three smells mixed together, sticking to your clothes and hair, impossible to shake off. Lin Yan felt his stomach churning, and he even felt like vomiting up the wheat cakes he had eaten that morning.
Chaos reigned, utter chaos. The lower-ranking wolves were only concerned with escaping. Some ran down the mountain, crashing into rocks in their panic, their brains splattering everywhere; others rushed into the caves, as if they held a life-saving talisman there; still others, driven mad by fear, bit their own companions—one gray wolf bit its companion's hind leg, tearing off a chunk of flesh, blood gushing out. The bitten wolf stopped running, turned back and wrestled with the wolf, fangs piercing the other's neck, making whimpering sounds, like crying, or perhaps like hatred.
Lin Yan's heart tightened as he watched. He knew this was the lingering effect of the rampaging flames, coupled with the fright from the demonic fire; these wolves had lost their minds. But seeing them killing each other, he couldn't help but think of the villagers in the village below the mountain who had been bitten by wolves. His fingernails dug deep into his flesh—the suffering in this world was something even demonic beasts couldn't escape.
"roar--"
A tiger's roar suddenly erupted, making Lin Yan's eardrums ring and causing pebbles to fall from the rock face. There was no anger in the sound; instead, it carried a hint of… inexplicable pleasure? Like a child receiving a beloved toy, or a hunter spotting a plump prey.
The Fiery Tiger emerged from the shattered light of the barrier. Lin Yan had seen it in fragments of memory, but seeing it in person now, he realized that its appearance in those fragments was far less than one ten-thousandth of its true form. It stood nearly ten feet tall at the shoulders and over two feet long, resembling a small hill. Its crimson fur, like flowing lava, shimmered with a faint light, and even the ground scorched as it approached. Most terrifying were its eyes, pure, dark gold, with vertical pupils resembling the patterns on Su Qingyao's dagger, reflecting the raging fire and the wolf carcasses on the ground, utterly devoid of warmth.
It lowered its head, nuzzled its nose against the charred corpse on the ground, and made a gurgling sound in its throat, as if it were sighing or savoring the memory. Even from a distance, Lin Yan could imagine the temperature of the charred corpse—it must have been scalding hot, but the demonic tiger seemed quite comfortable, as if it had touched a warm stove.
Then it raised its head, its gaze fixed on the cave entrance. There were more and more wolves there, not the chaotic rabble from before, but true elites—larger than ordinary wolves, with deep black fur, as if painted with ink, their eyes showing no panic, only cold light. They quickly formed a fan shape, completely guarding the cave entrance, much like the gatekeepers of a wealthy household, leaving not a single gap.
From the center of the wolves, an even larger figure emerged. It was the Bloodfang Wolf King. Nearly ten feet tall at the shoulder, its fur was silver-gray, gleaming metallically in the moonlight, like a suit of silver armor. Most striking were its fangs, not ordinary white, but a blood-soaked red, exuding a chilling coldness, as if just ripped from someone's throat. Its eyes were also dark gold, but different from the demon tiger's—the demon tiger's eyes held fire and madness, while its eyes held ice, composure, and a long-held, supreme authority; even its breath carried an aura that made people afraid to look directly at it.
The two demonic beasts faced off in the open space between the shattered barrier and the cavern. The wind had stopped, and even the crackling of the fire had subsided. The fiery currents emanating from the demonic tiger and the icy demonic aura emanating from the wolf king collided in the middle, sizzling like ice water poured into boiling oil. The pebbles and ash on the ground were swirled up by these two currents, forming a small wall of wind around them.
Lin Yan's heart was pounding. He knew this was the real climax. He quietly touched the communication talisman in his pocket; the sweat on his fingertips soaked the talisman paper—Su Qingyao was still on another rock wall, and she must be just as nervous as he was.
"Roar..." The demonic tiger growled softly, its voice full of provocation. It lowered its body slightly, its front paws scratching the ground, leaving several scorch marks, even the stone chips were sparking. The fire around it suddenly rose a little, and Lin Yan felt a heat on his face, as if his eyebrows were about to curl up—this distance was probably dozens of feet, but the heat felt like it was stuck to his face.
The wolf king didn't move or howl. It just stared at the demon tiger, its eyes scanning the surroundings—the charred wolf carcass on the ground, the shattered barrier, the scent of the alluring incense and the berserk poison in the air. Lin Yan knew what it was thinking. This wolf king had lived for decades, ruling over such a vast territory as Canglang Mountain; it was no fool. The alluring incense had lured its wolves here, the barrier had just shattered at that moment, and the demon tiger had just gone berserk—it was all too coincidental, as if someone had meticulously orchestrated the whole thing.
"Humans?" A hint of disdain flashed in the wolf king's eyes. Those two-legged beasts, cowardly and greedy, only knew how to scheme in the shadows. Daring to provoke both it and the demon tiger at the same time? They must be tired of living. But besides humans, who else could obtain the Demon-Attracting Incense and the Berserk Powder, and also accurately predict the moment the barrier would shatter? Its brows furrowed—if it was a human, their audacity was truly astounding.
"Awooo—" A shrill howl suddenly broke the silence. It was a wolf general, half of its body charred by demonic fire, its flesh turned inside out, revealing the bone underneath. It was writhing in pain, its cries sharp and piercing like needles into one's ears.
The cry seemed to shatter something. The last vestige of clarity in the demon tiger's eyes vanished, leaving only a blood-red frenzy. It didn't care about the situation, or who was behind it; it only knew that these wolves had disturbed its sleep and offended its pride, and they all deserved to die!
"roar--!!!"
The tiger's roar was like thunder, making Lin Yan dizzy. The demonic tiger's body transformed into a streak of red light, as fast as lightning, and pounced on the wolf pack. Lin Yan couldn't see its movements at all; he only felt a blur before his eyes and heard a miserable howl—one of the wolves was already engulfed in flames, rolled twice on the ground, and became a fireball.
"Awooo—!!!" The wolf king was enraged. To kill its people on its territory was a slap in the face, a declaration of war! It howled to the sky, its voice filled with murderous intent. The wolf generals behind it immediately moved. A dozen or so late-stage Body Tempering wolves, like well-trained soldiers, pounced from different directions—some charging head-on, baring their teeth to bite the demon tiger's neck; some flanking from the sides, their claws aimed at the demon tiger's eyes; and others circling behind, pouncing on the demon tiger's waist. This was the wolf pack's hunting method, most effective against large prey.
The demonic tiger was forced back half a step. With a swipe of its left paw, a fiery blade severed the throat of the wolf general that pounced from the side, but its right rib—the old wound that had been pierced by a human cultivator a month ago and had only been barely suppressed by the healing of the spiritual spring—was fiercely bitten by another wolf general!
This bite ripped open the most vulnerable edge of the old wound. The flesh, already covered with a dark red scab, was slowly healing under the nourishment of the spiritual spring, but now it was brutally torn open by the sharp teeth. The dark brown old blood mixed with the newly gushing bright red, splattering onto the scorched earth. Furthermore, a chilling demonic power burrowed into the wound, gnawing at the already unhealed meridians like a venomous snake.
The massive body of the demon tiger suddenly stiffened, letting out a roar that was a mixture of pain and rage. This old wound not only injured its bones and muscles but also penetrated deep into its internal organs. It had been resting quietly by the spiritual spring for many days and was about to recover most of its strength, but at this critical moment, it was torn apart again! A sweet, metallic taste rushed up its throat, which it forcibly swallowed, but its breathing was already disordered, and the flames around its body flickered for a moment.
With a sudden twist of its body, the violent demonic power sent the wolf flying backward, crashing into the rocks with a clear, audible cracking sound. However, this twist affected its internal organs, causing the demonic tiger to stagger half a step. When it landed, its right paw trembled slightly, and its movements were noticeably sluggish.
Despite having several broken ribs, the wolf struggled to prop itself up on its forelegs, emitting strange hoarse sounds, its eyes gleaming with even greater ferocity—it had caught the peculiar scent emanating from the depths of the wound, a mixture of the pure essence of the spiritual spring and the putrid blood. Wolves are masters of exploiting weaknesses, and the stench of this old wound acted like a potent stimulant, fueling their relentless, death-defying attacks!
Lin Yan watched in horror. The demonic tiger was indeed powerful; its cultivation at the Profound Realm gave it a devastating aura with every move, each claw capable of tearing apart a wolf general. But there were too many of these wolf generals, and they all seemed to have no regard for their lives. They didn't dodge or evade at all; even if their claws were charred or their fangs were broken, they would still leave wounds on the demonic tiger. What was even more terrifying was that these attacks were not without strategy—the wolf king was directing from afar, and every time the demonic tiger tried to gather its demonic power to unleash a wide-range attack, three or four wolf generals would pounce from different directions simultaneously, forcing it to divert its attention to defense.
"clang!!!"
The wolf king finally moved. Its figure was as swift as lightning, instantly appearing beside the demon tiger, its pair of blood-red fangs aimed straight for the tiger's ribs—the weakest point of its demonic aura. The demon tiger barely managed to turn, its right paw striking at the wolf king, but its movement was noticeably a fraction of a second too slow. The wolf king's fangs grazed the demon tiger's ribs, leaving a deep, bone-revealing wound, while the demon tiger's paw only struck the wolf king's shoulder. Although it caused the wolf king to stagger backward, its shoulder bone shattering, it failed to inflict a fatal wound.
After that attack, the wolf pack went completely berserk. They saw hope—the demon tiger was not invincible; it could bleed, it could be injured, it could tire! The remaining wolves all pounced, even the low-ranking wolves that had been trembling in the distance gathered together again. They were no longer afraid; their eyes were filled with nothing but frenzied killing intent.
Five wolves simultaneously pounced on the demon tiger's hind legs. Three bit its left forepaw, while the other two circled around to the front, ramming their bodies into the tiger's chest. The demon tiger roared, flames erupting from its body, burning the three nearest wolves to a crisp. But the others held on tightly. Seven or eight more low-ranking wolves seized the opportunity to pounce, biting the tiger's tail, belly, and hind legs. Though weak, their bites were like a persistent leech, impossible to shake off.
The demonic tiger was completely overwhelmed by the wolf swarm tactic. Each strike could kill one or even several wolves, but more would immediately follow. Blood flowed more and more, wounds deepened, and its demonic aura weakened. Its roars began to be mixed with pain, and its movements grew increasingly sluggish.
Seizing the opportunity, the wolf king launched another fatal attack. Its silver-gray figure burst forth from the pack, lunging straight for the demon tiger's eyes—the weakest point in its demonic aura. The demon tiger barely managed to raise its right paw to defend itself, but its left forepaw was firmly gripped by the three-headed wolf, slowing its movements by half a breath.
The wolf king's fangs pierced the demon tiger's left eye socket with pinpoint accuracy.
At that very moment, something unexpected happened!
Instead of the expected blood and brains flowing from the pierced eye of the demon tiger, a dark and intense black flame ignited. The flame had no temperature, yet possessed an eerie power to devour all light, instantly rising upstream along the wolf king's fangs!
"Awooo?!" The wolf king realized something was wrong, but it was too late to escape. The black flames, like maggots clinging to its bones, instantly coiled around its fangs, snout, and even spread towards its head. This wasn't burning, but a more terrifying corrosive force—the wolf king felt a chilling, bone-deep power frantically devouring its life force and demonic power. The fur touched by the black flames instantly lost its luster, turning gray and withered. Even its pair of prized blood fangs seemed to have lost some kind of spirit, their blood color fading.
At the same time, a glint of cunning and madness flashed in the demon tiger's remaining right eye. Despite its severe head injury, it forcefully activated the most insidious and domineering of its primordial demonic flames—the "Soul-Devouring Dark Flame"—its trump card for survival, a technique that severely depleted its vital energy and even shortened its lifespan with each use. Now at its last gasp, it was determined to drag its nemesis down with it into the abyss!
"Roar—!!!" The demonic tiger roared, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Instead of retreating, its massive body advanced. Taking advantage of the moment when the wolf king was being corrupted by the dark flames and its movements were stiff, the tiger's right paw, wrapped in the remaining crimson demonic fire, slammed down on the wolf king's head!
This claw strike contained the last vestiges of the demonic tiger's life essence. Even before the claw reached the ground, the intense wind pressure had already carved a deep trench in the earth.
The wolf king's pupils constricted sharply. In this life-or-death moment, it displayed the ruthlessness and decisiveness befitting a wolf king. Instead of dodging or evading, it slammed its head down, using its hardest skull to meet the claw head-on. At the same time, its right forepaw transformed into a silver-gray afterimage, aiming straight for the demon tiger's heart!
"Bang--!!!"
A dull, chilling thud echoed, accompanied by the crisp sound of bones shattering. The wolf king's skull was caved in by the blow, its silver-gray fur soaked in blood, its left ear ripped open, and a deep, bone-revealing wound stretched from its forehead to its jaw, blood gushing out like a fountain. It staggered backward, each step leaving deep, bloody footprints on the ground, its breath instantly weakening, and even its dark golden eyes dimmed considerably.
The demon tiger fared no better. In its final counterattack, the wolf king's claws pierced deep into its chest, just a hair's breadth from its heart. Dark red demon blood gushed forth like a waterfall, mingling with the internal injuries from the backlash of the dark flames. Its life force, like a candle flickering in the wind, quickly dissipated.
Both sides suffer heavy losses!
Behind the cliff, Lin Yan watched, his palms turning cold, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't expected the battle to be so fierce, much less the bizarre and terrifying counterattack the demon tiger would launch before its death. The wolf king had won, but it was a Pyrrhic victory; severely wounded, its strength must have been greatly diminished. And the demon tiger's final attack, that eerie black flame, had set off alarm bells in his mind—the demon beast's power and ruthlessness far exceeded his imagination.
On the rocky platform, Su Qingyao's face was as white as paper, and the sweat on her palms soaked through her dress. She clutched the communication talisman, her fingertips turning white. Finally, a quarter and a half minutes after the battle broke out, a gray figure rushed out of the woods and ran towards the rocky platform. It was Lin Yan! Su Qingyao almost burst into tears, covering her mouth to keep from crying out.
Lin Yan climbed up the rock face in a few breaths and landed in front of her. He looked disheveled—his robes were torn in several places, he had a cut on his arm, and his face was covered in ash and blood. "Are you alright?" Su Qingyao rushed forward, her voice trembling.
"It's alright." Lin Yan shook his head, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield below—the demon tiger was on its last legs, struggling desperately, while the wolf king stood not far away, surrounded by the remaining wolves, each wounded yet exuding a fierce aura. "The plan worked," his voice was a little hoarse, "They both suffered heavy losses; the demon tiger is dying, and the wolf pack is also severely weakened."
"So now we..." Su Qingyao looked at him.
"Infiltrate the wolf den," Lin Yan said in a deep voice. "Now is the best time. The wolf king and wolf generals are both seriously injured, and the lower-ranking wolves have suffered heavy casualties. The den should be empty."
Without further delay, the two climbed down the other side of the rock wall, bypassing the main battlefield, and headed towards the rear of the cave. They encountered no obstacles along the way; the surviving wolves were either devouring the demon tiger's corpse or licking their wounds, having no time for anything else. The cave entrance was deserted; the guarding wolves were all charred corpses, crumbling into dust with a gust of wind.
The two exchanged a glance, then rushed into the cave. Darkness instantly enveloped them, like a cloth soaked in ink. But they both knew this was not the end, but the beginning of another battle—to find the truth, to find evidence, in the darkness.
Outside, the howling of wolves gradually subsided, but the stench of blood and burning in the air grew stronger. Tonight, Canglang Mountain was destined to be soaked in blood, and the stench would not subside until dawn.