Chapter 1: The Snow Wolf Attack
693 Words
"Woo... Woo..."
The piercing sound of a horn blared continuously from the northern edge of Haike Village, situated in the southeastern corner of the Frozen Continent. Accompanying the horn was a hoarse voice, gradually drawing nearer: “The snow wolves are coming... the snow wolves are coming, about twenty of them. Everyone, hide quickly—they’ll reach the village in about ten minutes.” A breathless hunter appeared at the village's north entrance, riding a snow deer.
Every person, both inside and outside the village, halted their work. Regardless of age or gender, they moved swiftly, unhooking the snow deer from their tools in the fields, herding the snow chickens into their coops under the eaves, and hastily placing the feeding snow pigs into crates. The villagers worked quickly, driving their livestock indoors, lifting the covers on their beds to reveal iron panels beneath, opening these panels to lower their animals down. Finally, everyone climbed down into the hidden holes, locking the iron doors from the inside.
"Amy, come inside quickly!" An elderly voice called out from a small straw hut on the southern side of the village. “The snow wolves will be here any moment.” The old man’s voice grew more urgent, more severe.
“Wait, Grandpa, I’ll be right there! Two baby snow chickens that hatched yesterday ran into the bushes!” a child’s voice replied from outside the hut’s fence.
"Awwooo..." The howl of wolves echoed from afar.
The destructive power of snow wolves was immense. Not only humans but even fierce hunting dogs and powerful yaks could not escape once a pack of snow wolves targeted them. The boy named Amy, if he looked up, would see the closest snow wolf already dashing into the street, only a few dozen paces away.
Thud—a heavy push swung open the wooden door of the hut.
An elderly man with white hair and beard rushed out, grabbing the boy by the collar from the low bushes and, despite the child’s kicking, shouting, and struggling, dragged him into the house.
Barely hidden within the hole under their bed, the two saw a pack of snow wolves rush into the hut. The largest wolf tried to lift the iron panel, while others circled it, sniffing at the edges. Their frosty breaths seeped through the cracks of the panel.
“Grandpa... the little chickens are surely dead,” the child whispered, still clinging to thoughts of the two baby birds.
“Amy, be good,” the old man comforted his grandson. “We can hatch more snow chickens. Next time, there’ll be even more.”
“Grandpa, there are so many hunters in the village. Why doesn’t anyone go out and kill those snow wolves? Last time we hunted a snow bear together, and snow bears are much tougher than snow wolves. Why don’t we kill the wolves?” the child sobbed, sniffling with each word.
“Sigh…” the old man heaved a long sigh. “Snow wolves can’t be killed. If someone kills them, they’ll pay for it with their life.”
“Then why did those uncles from outside kill snow wolves last time? They killed over thirty of them!” the boy asked indignantly.
“They’re mercenaries, my boy. Mercenaries are allowed to kill snow wolves,” the grandfather replied, unwilling to explain further to his young grandson.
“When I grow up, I’ll be a mercenary too…” The boy, his face still streaked with tears, clenched his fist tightly.
No one could have foreseen that the legendary figure of Amy, who would one day hold sway in the divine wars as the leader of the three-way alliance among gods, dragons, and demons, once nursed the humble dream of freely hunting snow wolves. And indeed, from the standpoint of “consistency over fleeting ambitions,” Lord Amy remained remarkably unwavering in his goals.
Yet, what kind of struggle and hardship would a humble village child, devoid of any natural desire for power or throne, need to endure to gain the recognition of the gods and ultimately emerge as a once-in-a-millennium hero?
The road ahead was long…
- Writer
