The iron pot of stew bubbled away. Chen Jinyang lifted the lid, and clouds of steam billowed out. The rich aroma of meat made his mouth water. Wielding a dagger, he cut the washed, peeled potatoes into the pot one chunk at a time. The pale-yellow pieces landed in the oily broth, sending ripples across its surface.
Mishaer lay obediently on the Winter Wolf pelt, with a thick layer of soft, dry grass underneath. The little one absently stroked its soft fur, her big eyes contentedly curving into little crescents. Her delicate chin bobbed as she murmured to herself. Her fiery red curls, set against the silvery-white wolf pelt, seemed to brim with life.
Chen Jinyang gazed at the carefree little girl. In his previous life, amid a world driven by material desires, he had seen more than enough slaughter and betrayal. Yet now, his heart, long since grown old and rigid, had somehow regained the vitality and vigor of youth. A special warmth and closeness welled up inside him.
The fist technique demanded passion. He had understood that in his previous life, but he had simply taken the wrong path, and so all his efforts had come to naught.
Now he had suddenly grasped the truth, and was lucky enough to get a second chance. So tell me—who does my blade sing for?!
Night fell, and Phinia and Alos returned, weary and covered in dust. Their prize from the hunt was a mighty bison, its body nearly cleaved in half by Phinia's giant axe.
The warmth of the fire and the steaming meat broth drove the chill and exhaustion from the hunters. Little Alos, his nose red from the cold, slurped down the hot soup, tears and sweat streaming down his face, while recounting his perilous hunting adventure to his wide-eyed little sister. Most of his so-called adventures were made up, but the little girl still gasped in amazement again and again.
Phinia happily gnawed on big chunks of meat, occasionally accepting a bowl of broth from Chen Jinyang and gulping it down. Every so often, she gave him a silly grin. The giantess was very satisfied with her life now. For a female Frost Giant, submitting to a gentle, tolerant, and kind strongman—at least, that was how she saw him—was perfectly normal. She had a warm and safe den, plenty of delicious food, and cheerful, friendly companions. Every day, she could even enjoy some fun and exciting exercise with her powerful conqueror. After countless years of lonely, bewildered wandering through the wilderness, Phinia felt this was the greatest gift the gods could give her, though she didn't worship any gods.
The heat built up from training had left Chen Jinyang with some excess energy, and his direct interaction with Phinia took a while. When he returned, refreshed, with Phinia limp in his arms, the little ones had already fallen asleep on the wolf-pelt bedding. He tiptoed over and tucked them both in. After topping up the stew pot on the hearth with water and starting tomorrow's breakfast early, he slipped beneath the blanket and fell into a deep sleep beside Phinia.
While the sky was still dim, Chen Jinyang dreamed that a huge boulder was crushing him, leaving him barely able to breathe. He jolted awake, only to find Phinia using him as a pillow. He gently pushed the still-sleeping Phinia aside, then rose and stretched his aching body.
The fire in the hearth had nearly died out. He added more wood to bring the flames back to life, poured some water into the pot of stew that had simmered all night, and set a large chunk of hard bread to bake in the hearth's oven. Once he had everything in order, Chen Jinyang left the cellar. He ran through a set of forms to loosen his stiff limbs, washed up quickly at the well, then took an icy shower. Bare-chested, he began his usual morning training. First, he practiced the Twelve Forms, thoroughly stretching his muscles and tendons. Then he picked up a giant pole and began practicing with the long spear.
Why call it practicing with a long spear? Because the pole was so thick and long that he couldn't even wrap one hand around it. When he swung it, the front and back kept vibrating, making it impossible to hold steady. Chen Jinyang used the pole's springiness to train his explosive reflexes and coordination. It looked almost like play.
After a good training session, Chen Jinyang began to sweat. His muscles and bones had loosened, his strength was brimming, and his body was filled with vitality. Today was his turn to go hunting, but first he needed to take care of yesterday's catch. He picked up the dagger he used to butcher game and headed toward the shed where the meat was stored.
As he approached the shed, however, he spotted a strange drag mark in the snow. A peculiar stench lingered in the air—a faint, cloying reek, like rotting wood covered in mold. Then Chen Jinyang noticed that the bison carcass was gone.
They'd been robbed!
Chen Jinyang examined the drag mark in the snow and noticed footprints deliberately hidden beneath it. They were enormous, humanoid tracks, but with only three toes. The unknown creature seemed to want to conceal its identity, but didn't care if anyone discovered where it had gone.
Chen Jinyang wasn't concerned about losing the bison. He could catch more whenever he wanted; the Hidden Forest teemed with game. What worried him was that this unknown thief might hurt his family, just like the Winter Wolf had before. These terrifying monsters posed far too great a threat to the two children.
If anything went wrong, it would be too late for regrets. Chen Jinyang went back and woke Phinia, telling her to watch the little ones. Then he took two short javelins and followed the tracks. The drag mark led straight to the northern wall, then crossed it and continued onward.
Looking at the tracks in the snow atop the wall, Chen Jinyang realized that the creature had come and gone with ease over a wall nearly four meters high. His sense of danger surged, and his resolve to eliminate the thief hardened. He leaped straight over the wall and followed the trail.
The drag mark grew fainter and gradually veered off course. Several times, it broke off and doubled back, as though meant to confuse anyone who might follow it. But it couldn't fool Chen Jinyang, an experienced tracker. After traveling several miles, the trail turned back, circled a wide loop, and returned to the far side of the village, heading south along the wall.
Chen Jinyang looked at the line of enormous footprints in the snow and sneered, murder in his heart. The thief had gone to such lengths to hide itself, yet was still lurking near the village. Its purpose was obvious. What a despicable creature.
He quickened his pace, rounded the back wall, and finally found the cunning thief.
What kind of monster was this?!
Even sitting on the ground, it stood nearly six feet tall. Its putrid gray skin looked like gelatin and was covered in tumors and scars. A huge, ugly, humanoid head was crowned with coarse, gray-green hair like tangled weeds. The creature's back was slightly hunched, and its body looked long and thin, but its thick, long-armed-ape limbs revealed its true strength.
The creature was hiding barely a few dozen yards from the wall, crouched behind a boulder. Its broad, powerful hands bore sharp claws. It tore through the bison's hide and bones as easily as paper, then pulled out the innards and stuffed them into its fearsome mouth. It swallowed them whole without chewing.
Chen Jinyang stood not far behind the monster, but it didn't notice him at all. He suddenly let out a shout and hurled a javelin with all his strength. It flew so fast that friction with the air made it feel scorching, cutting through the space before striking the monster in the back. The javelin pierced straight through its chest, as if it had been fired into a piece of rotten wood.
The monster barely paused. It paid no attention to Chen Jinyang's attack and continued pulling the bison's innards into its mouth. Only after it had emptied the carcass did it slowly rise to its feet.
This terrifying monster stood nearly ten feet tall, with long arms and legs. Its arms reached past its knees, and even the slightest bend at the waist would make them drag along the ground. Its nose drooped like a hanging gallbladder, nearly reaching its chin. Its yellow-brown eyes gleamed with a chilling ruthlessness as it stared at Chen Jinyang. To his surprise, the wound where the javelin had pierced its chest had already vanished.
The monster swung its arms, sometimes dragging them along the ground, and lurched forward with an awkward gait. But it was only putting on an act. It was actually fast, and with legs nearly as long as Chen Jinyang was tall, each stride covered as much ground as seven or eight of his steps. Chen Jinyang's heart pounded. As the monster approached, he hurled his other javelin. This time, it flew straight into the charging creature's left eye and sank three inches into its skull.
Seeing that he had struck a vital spot, Chen Jinyang breathed a sigh of relief. He congratulated himself on the improvement in his throwing, while wondering how to dispose of the monster's corpse.
But what happened next nearly made his jaw drop.
The monster stopped, pulled the javelin out of its head, and casually snapped it in half before tossing the pieces to the ground. Then it charged again, reaching out to grab Chen Jinyang, who was still stunned. He rolled away on instinct several times, dodging its grasp. And then things got even more outrageous: the wound on the monster's head healed at a speed visible to the naked eye. Its eye healed too. A scab formed over it, then quickly cracked open to reveal a new eye.
Damn! It was even more ridiculous than Wolverine!
Fear and fury surged through Chen Jinyang. I refuse to believe you're more monstrous than the legendary creatures I've heard about.
He charged without hesitation, grabbed the monster by the wrist, and slammed it hard into the ground. The impact shook the snow from the nearby trees. Gripping the monster, he swung it around and smashed it into the ground over and over like a worn-out sack. The earth seemed to split apart as the ground shuddered with each heavy slam. As Chen Jinyang's fury mounted, he grabbed one of the monster's arms, twisted it several times, and wrenched it clean off. Then he seized the dazed monster's head with both hands, braced his feet against its shoulders, and twisted with all his strength. Its neck snapped, and he tore its head off.
Panting heavily, Chen Jinyang tossed the monster's filthy, ugly head aside and pointed at its body, crowing, "I refuse to believe you can grow your head back and come back to life after it's been torn off!"
Then the universe immediately proved him wrong. The monster got up, picked up the severed arm beside it, and stuck it onto the stump. In the blink of an eye, the arm had healed. Then it staggered around, feeling its way until it found its missing head. As Chen Jinyang stared, dumbfounded, it pressed the head against its shoulders, and the ragged flesh at the stump immediately began to knit together. Oh! Its head was on backward. It grabbed its head and twisted it around 180 degrees. Finally, it was the right way around.
The monster shook its head, roared at Chen Jinyang, and charged again with a rumble. Gritting his teeth, Chen Jinyang shouted furiously, "I refuse to believe you don't have a weakness!" He charged in, knocked the monster down, and hammered it with his crushing fists. He tried every vital spot on a human body, from the toes to the armpits. Anyone normal would have been pounded into mince finer than ground meat, but the monster was still lively, grappling with him without letting up.
Luckily, the monster wasn't as tough as a Winter Wolf, and Chen Jinyang had grown stronger over the past few days. That was the only reason he could pound away at his opponent so freely.
"I refuse to believe you can recover after I strip you down to the bones!" Chen Jinyang's fingers curled into tiger claws, and he tore the monster's flesh off handful by handful. The monster, in turn, scooped up each piece of missing flesh and slapped it back onto its body.
"I—"
Chen Jinyang was completely stumped. At last, he understood how the mighty warriors who had been worn down and defeated by the Bronze Saints' endless resilience and refusal to stay down must have felt in the cartoons he'd watched as a child in his previous life.
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