She's Your Wife Now

Having made up his mind, Kas's thoughts raced. Before entering the ritual grounds on the Forgotten Grassland, Gona, the leader of the tribe's warriors—the War Chief—had stripped him of every piece of offensive equipment.

Even the flint used for starting fires had been polished smooth as an eggshell, all because they feared an unruly young man might profane tradition.

He narrowed his eyes and watched the werewolf ten meters away as it shifted about, searching for an opening in its prey.

Its body was taut, its back arched, its arms spread wide. Thick, armor-like muscles bulged high, like a rooster spreading its wings to win a psychological advantage through sheer presence.

Human and werewolf both regarded the other as prey. The werewolf crouched on all fours, its scarlet beast eyes seeing nothing but a slab of defenseless fresh meat.

The atmosphere grew tense bit by bit. Neither side wanted to strike first, seemingly wary that the other had a deadly hidden move.

Suddenly, Kas moved!

He straightened his back, naturally held his arms before his chest, nodded to the werewolf, and forced a stiff fake smile onto his face.

"It is my honor to introduce myself to you here. I am Kas of the Zagwell Clan of Her Tribe, a high-quality Rishiman male seeking a high-quality..."

He glanced at the werewolf's torso. The grass was lush, the moonlight hazy, and its fur too long for Kas to discern its sex.

"A high-quality spouse. Here, I need to provide you with some relevant information regarding the client..."

He was not stupid enough to think he could drag the werewolf into the shaman's tent with mere nonsense.

He had simply recalled his Ancestor's warning from earlier: "If you ruin this sacred ritual, you won't find a wife for the rest of your life!"

To ruin something meant acting according to one's subjective will and causing damage to an object, making it differ from its original state.

Suppose I first extend a sincere invitation and ask this cursed werewolf to participate in the sacred ritual. Subjectively speaking, that would absolutely fulfill the War Chief's requirements.

But if the werewolf refuses during this process, then resorting to force after courtesy would be an unavoidable measure.

I was forced to take part in this ritual. If the werewolf refuses to cooperate, then I will once again be forced to bring it back to the tribe through physical means.

Wouldn't that complete the logical loop?

Kas coughed twice, hoping the werewolf would show him some respect before pouncing and give him time to solemnly introduce the client.

"I trust you have heard his name. He is the lofty shaman blessed by the Ancestors and enlightened by all spirits, a wise man who bears the will of the land's essence, the tribe's most learned elder, that pervert Hadi who's half buried in the ground and still wants an animal wife...

"Ahem, Elder Hadi works in divination, prophecy, and witchcraft. He owns hundreds of cattle and sheep, as well as dozens of elite shield guards serving him alone. If you are willing, you will never have to worry about food for the rest of your life..."

[Plan: Aconite Also Blooms]

[Status: In Progress]

[Inspiration: If the werewolf refuses my sincere invitation, then it is the one ruining this sacred ritual. Great Ancestors above, I must rely on my strong arms and biceps to "persuade" it to accept its fate of bearing a prophet.]

A smug smile appeared on Kas's face. This was his plan. If this ritual was truly so sacred and important, it would surely be watched by the spirits.

He watched the white fur bristle along the werewolf's neck and thought himself a true genius.

I might not be able to beat you, but I'm a witchcraft kid who deeply believes in tradition.

One shot of the Spirit Descent Technique, and the spirits who became "souls" after death will surely grant me the power to defeat this terrifying werewolf!

There is no place on the Rishiman People's land for a monster to run wild.

The smug smile on Kas's face grew increasingly unrestrained, while the werewolf's fur bristled layer by layer at his invitation, turning its long, robust body into a white hedgehog ball.

This beast must be intimidated by my increasingly swelling muscles and presence. It's making one final threat before attacking. I need to keep provoking it.

"You know, Elder Hadi is the wisest among us. He is as resilient as an ancient oak, kind and compassionate, and he can surely provide you with emotional value you won't find in the wilderness..."

The werewolf let out several low howls. The bloodthirsty gaze it had worn earlier became clear as water after hearing Kas's invitation. It studied the Rishiman man listing the benefits again and again.

Then, suddenly, it tucked its tail tight and spun around, fleeing in the direction it had come from.

The werewolf raced on all fours across the emerald plains beneath the deepening moonlight, fleeing in greater panic and at greater speed than when it had chased its prey earlier.

It... ran away?

Kas had yet to react. He was still imagining the werewolf being dragged into the shaman's tent by shield guards, wailing miserably, and secretly savoring the thought.

He stared in astonishment at the silver-white figure swiftly retreating across the plains, forgetting his plan for a moment.

This beast can understand human speech? And it looks like it knows exactly what will happen if it marries the shaman...

Damn it, even beasts fear the shaman. If I fail to bring it back, will my fate be even more miserable?

For example—

Having my spine forcibly torn out of my body?

Being turned into a toad and croaking in the water?

Or becoming a sleeping prince and enduring the crushing weight of seventy-two tanks?

The overwhelming desire to survive made Kas shudder violently.

He broke into a sprint again, but this time, the wolf was no longer chasing the man—the man was chasing the wolf.

Under the fading moon, the gritting human trampled the grass as he sprinted forward. Driven by some mysterious force, he steadily closed the distance between himself and the werewolf.

The werewolf, running just as fast, had completely lost the graceful posture it had possessed when first chasing the human.

Like a headless fly, it fled wildly, occasionally looking back at Kas, whose two legs had become dark blurs, and letting out pleading whimpers.

"Aowu~"

"Spare you? Who will spare me? This is the shaman's command. I cannot disobey it."

"Aowu~"

"No. Even if you caught a goat Beauty to fill in for you, that still wouldn't meet the relevant requirements. I must follow procedure strictly!"

The hunter and prey, having switched identities, returned to the strange rock that bulged in front and dipped behind. Hope lit up in the werewolf's eyes.

Not far beyond the rock was an enormously wide ravine. Even with a human's exaggerated speed and endurance, a fissure more than ten meters wide would seem like an insurmountable abyss.

The werewolf tensed its legs and leaped toward the rock, using it as a stepping stone. All the strength in its body condensed into those few brief jumps.

A skull caked with damp earth shot out from beneath the grass-covered soil like a bullet.

Tracing a subtle forty-five-degree arc, it flew directly into the werewolf's landing path, its wide-open jaws snapping shut around the werewolf's slender ankle.

Like a spring hooking around its ankle, it yanked the leaping werewolf down from midair. The werewolf crashed onto the rock with a dull thud.

Having landed a blow, the Ancestor bit down with vengeance in mind, fiercely tearing through the werewolf's tendons and bones.

Blood seeped through its teeth and into the cracks of its bones. A burst of thought caused by shock suddenly appeared in its hollow eyes as it quietly asked the wailing werewolf a few questions.

"You are from the Noglin Clan..."

"Woo~"

"A witch's curse?"

"Woo~"

After some time, Kas, who thought he had lost the werewolf, wore a strange expression as he observed it sitting dejectedly on the rock.

Its ankle had been bitten bloody by a mud-caked skull, and clear bite marks could be seen beneath its blood-stained white fur.

As for the skull beside the werewolf's feet, it let out a lecherous laugh when it saw Kas.

"Hehe, you stupid brat, your luck really is good... Kas, do you want a wife?"

"What the hell?" Kas was utterly confused. Wasn't this ritual supposed to find the shaman a Beauty for a wife? How had it become about him?

Besides, the wife his Ancestor meant couldn't possibly be...

As if to confirm Kas's suspicions, Morse grinned broadly, his head bouncing like a rubber ball to the highest point of the rock.

With his back to the moonlight, he spoke in a profound tone. The cracked skull covered in dirt somehow exuded the unyielding aura of steel.

"I am the master of the Zagwell Clan—Morse Ironbone. I proclaim to all spirits of the Forgotten Grassland: she who was lost upon these plains possesses beauty that dims the sun and moon, beauty fought over by all cities and mourned by mountains.

"In the name of my father, Hazlit Starbreaker, my descendant Kas shall take her as his wife."

A soundless wind swept in from every direction. The fragrance of roses spilled from the nearby valley, brushing over the green grass, carrying away the scent of blood, and drawing the drifting flowers into countless ribbons.

Red, yellow, purple... they painted the full moon in dazzling colors, while the stars sent down a silent rain of flowers that blanketed the earth.

Morse's smug mouth nearly split to the back of his head. He raised his head at his dumbfounded descendant as though claiming credit.

"She's your wife now. Everyone recognizes it. Hahaha."

"???" Kas plucked a handful of petals from his hair, his eyes filled with nothing but bewilderment.

He glanced at the werewolf sitting on the rock, its white fur covered in petals.

It seemed to sense Kas's unusual gaze. It scratched its slender cheek with a forepaw, lowered its head shyly, buried its restless paws in its fur, and dared not meet his eyes.

A classic Black-question-mark expression appeared on Kas's face. He looked again at Ancestor Morse, who was still laughing nonstop, and cursed inwardly.

Are you, like the shaman, some kind of pervert from a fantasy-world animal protection organization?

[Plan: Aconite Also Blooms]

[Result: Great Success]

[Inspiration: The Rishiman People do not advocate free love. At least in Morse Ironbone's era, marriages had to obey clan arrangements, and your Ancestor has won a "Beauty's" agreement for you.

[What you must consider now is how to make a werewolf shed clear spring water...]

Kas carefully analyzed the flawless plan for a while, then fell into a long silence.

Neither the werewolf nor I made a move. During the ritual, I used extremely sincere words to invite it to visit the shaman's tent.

It must have tried to flee because it was shy? Or perhaps afraid. Then the old thing caught it.

The werewolf fleeing was interfering with the ritual's normal progress. The old thing is already dead and is a spirit that has become a soul, while strong arms and biceps are an abstract concept, formally representing an increase in strength.

According to the Rishiman Speculation Equation: fleeing = disrupting the ritual; old thing = strong arms; werewolf nodding = accepting a proposal.

Therefore: the inspiration I speculated is valid!

It was only the courting party that had changed—from Old Shaman Hadi to me...

So the plan succeeded. Everything was within the plan!

That logical conclusion made Kas clench the petals in his hand.

I must take back what I said earlier. Actually, I'm not interested in beast-eared girls either...