Chapter 98: The Black Wolf Tribe

Chapter 98: The Black Wolf Tribe

After a night of relentless activity, everyone decided to rest before continuing their journey, using the time to strategize the rescue.

Their mission now extended beyond freeing the captured beastmen of the Zebra Tribe; they also had to save Mao Yun.

The Sand Cat Tribe, a weaker beastman community, had been relegated to the desolate, godforsaken desert—a place akin to exile. Logically, the High Priest should not have troubled them. Moreover, according to Bān Shān, Wanxiang City typically approved relocation requests from tribes, provided they didn't interfere with other tribes or cities. So why was the Sand Cat Tribe's application rejected? And not just rejected, but Mao Ping and Mao Yun were brutally beaten.

“It’s like… it’s like…” Bān Shān rubbed the back of his head, realizing his next words might be impolite, and trailed off.

Wen Ran, however, narrowed his eyes and said, “It’s as if the High Priest is deliberately making things difficult for us.”

Bān Shān’s head snapped up. “Yes, that’s exactly the feeling! Sage Wen Ran, you think so too?”

Wen Ran scoffed. Historically, the Sand Cat Tribe’s territory was in the most remote and barren northern corner of the beast world—a desert where many elders insisted on staying, unwilling to relocate, as if guarding something. But now, it seemed the High Priest and the Ritual Shaman envoys of the sacrificial temple had intended for them to be left to their own devices.

Wen Ran glanced at Lang Zhi. Lang Zhi’s mysterious appearance in the Sand Cat Tribe might very well be their doing.

Wen Ran calmly instructed, “From now on, Zhì and I will proceed alone. We’ll enter Wanxiang City territory to see if we can locate Mao Yun and the others. The rest of you stay here, hunt, and gather firewood until we return.”

Wen Ran assigned Mao Ye the task of changing Mao Ping’s bandages. Ban Feng, the Ritual Shaman of the Zebra Tribe, who had been a silent presence, stepped forward and spoke for the first time, “Let me change his bandages. Every tribe’s Ritual Shaman has some familiarity with medicinal herbs.”

His implication was that while he might not possess Wen Ran’s extraordinary healing abilities, compared to other beastmen, Ritual Shamans were the most knowledgeable about herbs.

Wen Ran nodded, handing him the Dragon Blood Tree resin and explaining it needed to be ground into powder for external application and mixed with water for internal consumption.

Wen Ran’s decision to go alone with Lang Zhi was carefully considered. After several upgrades, his spatial dimension could now hold living beings, including people. In a true emergency, he could pull Lang Zhi into the space for refuge. He trusted Lang Zhi implicitly, but he would never allow anyone else into his space.

Bān Shān clearly disagreed and stepped forward to protest, but Mao Bu blocked him with an arm, saying firmly, “Trust Wen Ran, trust the Beast God’s Messenger. We would only hinder him if we went!”

Wen Ran gently explained, “Our purpose this time is merely to scout. We won’t act rashly without full assurance. It’s easier to gather information with fewer people.”

Seeing his objections were futile, Bān Shān finally sighed and urged, “Then please be careful out there!”

…

Wanxiang City’s territory was nestled against a black stone mountain, with a vast open valley at its base forming the city’s domain.

The entire valley was divided into two tiers. The highest area, closest to the black stone mountain, housed the sacrificial temple, where only the High Priest and Ritual Shaman envoys resided. Wanxiang City was unique in the beast world for having no chieftain; all matters were directed by the High Priest.

Next was the bustling tribal trading market. Some vendors sold animal pelts, spreading snow-white fox and antelope hides on the ground. Up close, the fur reeked.

Wen Ran examined them closely. The pelts still had uncleaned grease and were stiff as boards. Forget comfort—covering oneself with them would leave you reeking. But with the snow season approaching, pelts were in high demand, and many beastmen crowded around the stalls, inquiring about exchanges.

Others sold yellowish-white crystals, which appeared to be unprocessed crude salt. The beastman selling them, seeing Wen Ran’s interest, immediately asked cheerfully, “Do you want to exchange for salt crystals? One antelope pelt can get you a pouch of salt crystals!”

Wen Ran raised an eyebrow. Selling them so cheaply suggested the people here hadn’t yet realized salt’s importance to the human body.

“We’ll take them! Wait here, we’ll go get the pelts from our makeshift camp!”

Wen Ran replied to the beastman, then pulled Lang Zhi to a secluded spot. He retrieved several pelts from his space and instructed Lang Zhi to exchange them for all the yellowish crystals.

“Wen Ran, why are you buying so many salt crystals? They’re too salty to eat.”

“Remember the fine white powder I use when cooking? That refined salt is extracted from these yellowish salt crystals. Exchange for them so we can extract salt back at the tribe.”

Without another word, Lang Zhi gathered the pelts and exchanged them for all the salt crystals.

The seller, who usually struggled to trade even one pouch a day, was utterly astonished that this seemingly weak Lesser Female bought everything at once. He quickly asked, “Do you want more? Our tribe has many more salt crystals in the mountains. If you want a lot, I can give you a discount—half an antelope pelt for a pouch!”

Wen Ran smiled. “Yes, we’ll take as many as you have! But we don’t have that many pelts. Can salt crystals only be exchanged for antelope pelts?”

“No, no, other foods work too. But with the snow season near, nobody wants to trade food for salt crystals.”

Wen Ran observed the beastman—a winged one with snow-white wings, though he didn’t know the tribe. He asked, “What tribe are you from?”

“White Eagle Clan.”

Hearing this, Wen Ran and Lang Zhi exchanged a glance. They hadn’t forgotten how the Zebra Tribe’s little Bān Yún and other beastmen were badly tricked by several White Eagle beastmen.

Wen Ran immediately lost interest in further trade. Who knew if this White Eagle beastman was also a slave of the Iridescent Snake Tribe, deliberately setting up a stall to scam people?

What a waste of his honest, simple-looking face—he turned out to be a fraud.

As Wen Ran and Lang Zhi turned to leave, the White Eagle beastman was completely baffled, looking utterly confused as he watched them head to other stalls. He muttered, “Was my price too high? It’s negotiable! Half an antelope pelt for two pouches is fine too!”

Wen Ran paused, glanced at the overpriced salt crystals in his hand, and felt like punching that White Eagle beastman. Who said there were no unscrupulous merchants in the beast world? He’d clearly encountered one!

Nearby, several Brown Bear Clan beastmen had a Grunting Beast corpse laid out. The fresh red meat was cut into large chunks with stone knives, hung with vines, and blood dripped steadily to the ground, forming a small pool. Besides the meat, there were also small, tightly wrapped bundles covered with large leaves, attracting bees and butterflies.

Wen Ran sniffed—it smelled like honey.

Noticing the bee sting marks on the Brown Bear beastmen’s faces, Wen Ran confirmed the bundles were honey.

Honey was valuable. Wen Ran exchanged for all of it, storing it in his space to make candied sweet potatoes for the three little ones back at the Sand Cat Tribe.

Wen Ran also noticed a strange stall run by an Iridescent Snake beastman. The snakeman tossed a handful of grass into a fire, producing thick white smoke. Beastmen who gave him pelts could inhale the smoke deeply. Soon, their clear eyes grew dazed, and they sprawled on the ground, seemingly lost in pleasant hallucinations.

Wen Ran immediately realized the smoke was problematic—the grass likely contained hallucinogenic herbs. He covered his and Lang Zhi’s noses and quickly moved away from the stall, only relaxing when the smoke was out of range.

Watching the beastmen in various animal forms lying dazed, Wen Ran twitched his mouth. There were hardcore smokers everywhere! They didn’t even fear being beheaded by scheming beastmen who might steal their pelts and meat. Wen Ran didn’t know whether to call them reckless or just plain foolish.

The substance was addictive. Seeing a beastman with nothing to trade, clinging to the Iridescent Snake beastman’s leg and begging pitifully for a sniff, sent a chill down Wen Ran’s spine.

To prevent the Sand Cat Tribe from falling into smoking addiction, Wen Ran planned to make catnip upon returning. For cats and foxes, catnip was far more appealing and could be shaped into balls for play.

He sighed inwardly, looking at the clearly addicted beastmen. The Iridescent Snake Tribe was truly born wicked—using such despicable means to cheat people out of pelts, meat, and food. They had no shame whatsoever!

Leaving the Iridescent Snake beastman’s stall, they continued exploring until they reached the sacrificial temple.

From afar, it was unclear, but up close, Wen Ran saw a snow-white bone embedded in the temple’s main door, similar to the one in the Sand Cat Tribe’s plaza. He’d seen such bones in the Zebra Tribe too—the Zebra and Sand Cat bones resembled left and right legs, while this one looked like ribs reassembled along a spine. At the top sat an unknown animal’s skull, with two green-glowing stones in its eye sockets.

The skull clearly didn’t match the other bones, differing in color.

Lang Zhi shifted to his beast form, and Wen Ran climbed onto his back. The Big Black Wolf leaped effortlessly onto the temple roof without a sound. Wen Ran gave a thumbs-up, impressed.

Though it was a sacred temple, it was still a mud-and-grass hut. Wen Ran poked a small hole in the roof with his finger. Before he could peer inside, Zi Yao’s furious voice erupted: “Another test subject failed! High Priest, is it your incompetence? Why have so many attempts failed?”

Wen Ran and Lang Zhi exchanged glances—Zi Yao was here too.

Wen Ran looked inside. Zi Yao, red-faced and furious, stood behind an elderly beastman whose very presence felt wrong—eerie, unnatural, screaming “villain.”

Zi Yao shoved the old beastman aside irritably. “High Priest, stop blocking me!”

So this was the Iridescent Snake Tribe’s High Priest. No wonder he radiated villainous arrogance. Wen Ran smirked—fitting.

Beside Zi Yao stood the shamans and chieftains of the Red Eagle and Grey Eagle Clans, identifiable by their pure red, black, and white wings, like the White Eagle beastman they’d met earlier.

On a slightly raised platform stood a grim-faced middle-aged male orc with two colorful feathers in his hair—likely the sacrificial temple’s High Priest. He exuded a dark, oppressive aura, especially after Zi Yao’s accusation.

Wen Ran curled his lip. Compared to the Zebra Tribe’s Wind Shaman’s pure demeanor, this Wanxiang City High Priest seemed far less suited to serving in a sacred temple. He much preferred the Wind Shaman’s integrity.

Clearly, these people were arguing about something, with none willing to yield. The Red Eagle Clan’s priest said in a deep voice, "High Priest, the reason our tribes agreed to join your Wanxiang City in ambushing the Black Wolf Tribe was because you claimed through divination that obtaining the Beast God’s token or divine power inheritance would allow one to become the new Beast God! And the new Beast God’s partner would still come from the Black Wolf Tribe. The Black Wolf Tribe is the most loyal follower of the Beast God—as long as they exist, priests from other tribes can forget about becoming the new Beast God!"

"To remove this obstacle to godhood and to verify whether the Beast God’s token was in the Black Wolf Tribe, our tribes joined forces to ambush them! Later, we also attacked the Zebra Tribe, the Rat Beast Tribe, and several others. But after all this time, we’ve found neither the Beast God’s token nor any trace of divine inheritance! High Priest, is what you said actually true?! Or have you found it and secretly kept it for yourself?! Don’t forget our agreement to ascend to godhood together!"

The Grey Eagle Tribe’s priest added, "The original Beast God came from the Golden Dragon Clan, but that clan has long been extinct. Who knows what tribe the new Beast God will come from! Sigh, after committing so many atrocities and harming so many beastman tribes, we still have no clue about achieving godhood. What a sin!"

"Regardless of the race, before the Beast God ascended, he was very close with the priest of the Black Wolf Tribe. It was only after that priest—his partner—passed away that the Beast God accepted divinity and left the beast world. Given this history, the Black Wolf Tribe would never remain indifferent to the new Beast God. They are the most devout tribe serving the Beast God! They must be eliminated! It’s just a pity that the cub of the Black Wolf chieftain escaped with the support of a few Black Wolf male orcs. Who knows where they fled? If the divination is accurate, and the new Beast God’s partner will still come from the Black Wolf Tribe, then that cub is the most likely candidate. Finding him might lead us to traces of the Beast God!"

The old priest of the Iridescent Snake Tribe sneered arrogantly, "Even if that Black Wolf Tribe cub escaped, he won’t survive long. I bit him and injected him with a venom strong enough to kill several full-grown Grunting Beasts! How could he possibly live?!"

So Lang Zhi lost his memory due to snake venom!

It seemed Lang Zhi was the last survivor of the Black Wolf Tribe. Wen Ran glanced at him with concern, noticing Lang Zhi’s reddened eyes fixed fiercely on the people inside, his killing intent unmistakable. Wen Ran quickly grasped his hand and whispered, "Don’t act rashly, Zhi. Let’s go back and find a way together to avenge your kin and tribe!"

A tear fell from Lang Zhi’s eye, landing on Wen Ran’s hand with a scalding heat that made his fingers curl and his heart ache. He couldn’t bear to see Lang Zhi in such sorrow, and he looked at the people below like they were already dead.