Chapter 13: Exploring the Dragon's Lair
1378 Words
“Eventually, the rumors spread farther and wider.” At the request of Amy, Chi Hanfeng, and Leige, Daqingshan recounted his past over dinner.
Within a hundred miles, nearly everyone knew about the heir chosen by the Mountain God from Xiaojiao Village on the western slopes of Longya Mountain. According to rumors, Daqingshan’s parents hadn’t actually died but had been selected by the Mountain God as mountain patrol guardians. Some claimed to have seen his parents riding snow leopards, dashing down the mountainside; others said that every time Daqingshan went hunting, the animals in the mountains would line up, waiting for him to choose. He would merely touch the chosen animal’s head, and it would obediently follow him down the mountain, roaring to its death when they neared the village. And there were even more outlandish stories...
“But how did you really kill it? You were only nine years old—how could you possibly kill a snow leopard?” Amy pressed eagerly.
“Like this,” Daqingshan said, pulling two 50-centimeter-long, double-pointed wooden sticks from his bundle. “Once, I found a dead snow rabbit. When I gutted it, I realized it hadn’t frozen to death. Instead, a long grass root had pierced its stomach. I figured it must have eaten the root in desperation, and it punctured its stomach. Later, I started experimenting by finding the most resilient tree branches, sharpening both ends...” He bent one stick until the two ends nearly touched. “You see, I tied the ends together with string and froze it into an ice ball. Then, I wrapped the ball in animal hide or coated it in fat. I would toss these ice balls in places where animals often passed. In winter, food is so scarce that some animals would swallow the entire bait without hesitation. The ice would melt in their stomachs, causing the sticks to spring open and puncture their stomachs. I only ever collected animals that were already dead,” Daqingshan explained humbly.
“Then why didn’t you use this method to kill the snow bears?” Amy asked. Leige shot his disciple an annoyed glare, upset at the interruption of the green pup’s story.
“Snow bears hibernate in winter. In summer, it’s hard to make ice, and snow bears don’t eat carrion,” Daqingshan explained earnestly.
“Oh, and what about that little dog?” Leige asked, showing his curiosity.
What the villagers hadn’t realized was that as the weather warmed, Daqingshan’s prey had changed. The large predators he once brought back were replaced by smaller snow rabbits and snow hens. These animals now bore arrow wounds, as Daqingshan had begun learning to use his father’s steel crossbow.
As the weather grew warmer, Daqingshan often camped outside to hunt more efficiently.
One late spring evening, he gathered firewood and lit a roaring campfire. Despite finding a sheltered spot, the north wind howled past, carrying a biting chill.
Over the fire, Daqingshan roasted two cleaned snow rabbits on a wooden spit. The fire crackled as the meat sizzled, and oil seeped out, dripping onto the flames with a hiss. The rich aroma of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the warmth of the fire—a rare reward after a day of hard work.
When the meat was nearly cooked, Daqingshan moved it to a smaller fire, letting the residual heat finish the job. While waiting, he prepared a flat spot near a cliff, laying down animal pelts for sleeping.
Just as he turned back to check the meat, he froze. A small green dog sat in his spot by the fire, gripping the spit with its front paws and carefully turning the rabbit. Green drool dripped from its mouth. When it noticed Daqingshan watching, the dog showed no fear. Instead, it pointed at the meat with one paw, then at its own belly with the other, wagging its tail furiously.
“So cute,” Daqingshan thought, walking over to pet the dog’s head. “Hungry?”
“Woo... woo...” The little dog nodded eagerly.
“It must’ve been abandoned by its owner,” Daqingshan murmured, examining the creature. The dog’s front paws were severely underdeveloped, forcing it to walk clumsily on its hind legs. “Poor thing,” he thought, feeling a pang of sympathy.
A gust of wind made the dog curl up, sneezing. Daqingshan, moved by pity, pulled the little creature into his fur cloak, leaving only its head exposed. Together, they watched the rabbit meat turn golden and fragrant.
Once the meat was fully cooked, Daqingshan tore off the two juiciest legs and handed them to the dog. The pup eagerly devoured them, patting its now round belly in satisfaction before curling up in Daqingshan’s lap to sleep.
The next day, Daqingshan took the dog hunting. He had already given it a name: Lü’er. Though endearing, Lü’er was clumsy, slower than a rabbit, and often tumbled down hills during hunts. Despite these mishaps, Daqingshan couldn’t stop laughing.
That night, they shared another meal by the fire, Lü’er wrapped in Daqingshan’s cloak.
By the third day, they caught two rabbits and a snow hen. The pair settled down to roast their catch on a sheltered slope.
Suddenly, the night wind intensified, and snowflakes began to fall from the sky. “Strange, it was so sunny earlier,” Daqingshan muttered, adding more wood to the fire.
Crunch, crunch. The sound of dry grass being trampled echoed in the distance.
A black-robed old man emerged from the darkness. He glanced at Daqingshan, then sat by the fire. Lü’er, spotting the stranger, leaped from the cloak and dove into the man’s arms with excitement.
“Looks like it’s found its owner,” Daqingshan thought, feeling a twinge of sadness. Though the clumsy dog was far from perfect, the lonely boy had hoped for a companion.
Swallowing his disappointment, Daqingshan hesitated before asking, “Sir, is this dog yours?”
The old man paused. “The dog? Oh, yes, it’s mine.”
“Um... would you... could you give it to me?” Daqingshan stammered, mustering his courage.
The old man’s eyes lit up like lightning in the night. “You want it?”
“Yes. My name is Daqingshan. I’m all alone and would take good care of it.”
“Very well.” The old man seemed to make a decision. After glancing at both the boy and the dog, he asked solemnly, “Daqingshan, will you promise to stay with it for life?”
“Yes, I will,” Daqingshan replied, inexplicably feeling a sense of sacredness.
“And you?” the old man asked, looking at the dog. “Will you stay with Daqingshan for life?”
“Woo... woo...” Lü’er wagged its tail and nodded.
The old man clasped Daqingshan’s hand with Lü’er’s paw. “O holy God, Pyrot, let your descendants form a sacred pact with the offspring of the Creator God. May the heavens, the earth, and the gods witness this moment!”
Thunder roared, and lightning streaked across the sky. When Daqingshan opened his eyes, the old man was gone.
From the heavens, the man’s voice echoed: “Daqingshan, if you ever face hardship or confusion, come to the Green Dragon Terrace of Longya Mountain.”
The group debated visiting the dragon lair. With Daqingshan’s newfound bond as leverage, Leige was eager to explore, hoping to uncover ancient magic or valuable artifacts. Chi Hanfeng, equally tempted by treasure, also agreed. Amy had a nagging feeling of unease but couldn’t quite articulate it. And Daqingshan, reluctant to part from his friends, agreed as well.
Sigh... If that black-robed man had known what chaos this would unleash, he never would’ve allowed Lü’er to form such a bond. Bad judgment in choosing allies, indeed.
Combat Rankings:
Sacred Dragon Knight (Legendary)
Dragon Knight
Spirit Beast Knight
Advanced Berserker
Spiritual Beast Knight
Heavy Cavalry
Heavy Infantry
Light Cavalry
Light Infantry
Magical Combat Rankings Reference:
2 Advanced Archmages = 1 Sacred Dragon Knight
1 Advanced Archmage = 1.5 Dragon Knights
1 Archmage = 0.75 Dragon Knights
1 Grand Mage = 3 Spirit Beast Knights
1 Level-1 Mage = 1 Spirit Beast Knight
—Excerpt from "Troops and Power" by Chi Yizi
- Writer
