Miss Aowu

"So what exactly is going on? Even if you're arranging a wife for me, at least..." Kas glanced at the werewolf, whose wound was still bleeding, then bent down and brought his head close to Ancestor's ear.

"Tell me who she is."

Kas's instincts told him Ancestor probably knew the werewolf's true identity. Combined with the shaman's insistence that they search the Forgotten Grassland for a pure "beauty," he had a vague feeling.

The first goat "beauty" they had encountered, along with this furry werewolf beside her, were actually people. Yet in his eyes, they were a goat and a wolf.

The reason was unknown. It was likely related to the Forgotten Grassland's unusual environment. What he saw was completely different from what Ancestor saw, while Morse, who had died and become a spirit, could see the truth hidden beneath the "beauties'" animal appearances.

Silence filled Morse's eye sockets. If he still had hands that could move, he would surely be scratching his head with an embarrassed, foolish grin.

"I don't know."

"Quit kidding me. You dared to arrange a marriage without even knowing who she is."

"You know her name at least, right? Otherwise, what am I supposed to call her? Bone-chewing werewolf?"

"..." Ancestor turned his head with difficulty and asked the werewolf beside him, "Wife of my son Kas, what is your name?"

"Aowu."

The werewolf let out a short howl. Kas was not from some animal protection organization, so he could not understand what she was saying.

Raising an eyebrow, he placed his hand on Ancestor's skull and slowly pressed downward. The jawbone scraped against the rock with a piercing sound like metal being sliced.

"Don't tell me you're about to say that you don't understand her either..."

"Shut up, you ill-mannered brat! She is your wife! How can you refer to her as though she were an animal?!"

To Kas, the skull's scolding was merely an attempt to hide its embarrassment.

He still could not figure out what had happened during all this.

Although my flawless plan succeeded, there are still a few tiny, insignificant details that need proper improvement.

Just as he was considering how to improve it, Morse murmured temptingly, "Why not just call her your wife?"

"To my great-great-great... grandmother!"

With one powerful kick, Kas sent his unreliable ancestor flying far away. He rubbed his brow and walked over to the werewolf, who had kept her head lowered the entire time.

He had to admit that only after observing her up close did he realize she truly was a beauty.

Her fur was sleek and long, taking on a faintly translucent texture beneath the moonlight. Her figure was incredibly curvaceous, her muscles smooth and clearly defined. She was no less imposing than the War Chief's double-door refrigerator build.

After the bloodlust and hunger faded from her eyes, they were a pure pink like cherry blossoms.

"You can understand what I'm saying, right? If you can, howl 'ao.' If not, howl 'wu.'"

"Ao."

After hesitating again and again, Kas looked at the werewolf's continuously bleeding ankle and crouched down, taking out the waterskin he carried with him.

"Forget that old fool's nonsense for now. I'm not some perverted druid from an animal protection organization. If you really are a beauty...

"Honestly, I'm rather hoping you are a beauty, but only if you're a person. The Old Shaman might know how to lift the witch's curse. Once you return to normal, then we can consider that old fool's nonsense."

He carefully wiped the mud from the werewolf's ankle. His rough fingers gradually wiped away the blood clotted at the roots of her fur, then he rinsed it with water and tore off a strip of linen lining to bind the wound.

The werewolf remained very quiet throughout it all. Only during the cleaning did an unnatural low growl emerge from her throat, as though she was unaccustomed to such intimate contact.

After finishing the bandaging, Kas wiped away sweat that was not actually on his forehead. When he looked up, he found the werewolf's pink eyes wavering.

"If you ever fall in love with me, please wait until you're human again. For now, what should I call you, Werewolf Lady?"

"Aowu."

I really wish I were a druid... No, if I were a druid, I might already have slept with Miss Aowu!

Those perverts definitely would not mind doing something interesting with beasts.

"Alright, Miss Aowu, please prepare yourself. We're leaving." Kas took an oval stone covered in mysterious runes from his tool bag. It was the key leading back to the tribe's location.

According to the War Chief, the Forgotten Grassland was not located anywhere within the Sorrow Mountains, yet it was everywhere. Only shamans capable of communicating with gods and all spirits could accurately locate its entrance.

Simply put, this was probably a secret realm from legend, inhabited by fairies and spirits. There was no way to enter or leave it safely by normal means.

Following the War Chief's earlier instructions, he bit his thumb and used his blood to draw a door-like symbol around the stone. He muttered, "Elder Hadi, I have completed the task you entrusted to me with. Please..."

Before he could finish, a crack split open at the top of the dark gray stone. In the blink of an eye, it crumbled into powder, trickling bit by bit through his fingers like sand.

"Trouble..." Kas muttered, his expression darkening.

He had still underestimated the so-called sacred ritual. Perhaps the shaman had noticed what was happening in this realm and, displeased, destroyed the runestone.

Or perhaps there was another reason... But the outcome was undoubtedly terrible. How were they supposed to leave now?

He found Ancestor eating dirt in the soil and hooked two fingers into the skull's eye sockets.

"Old fool, since you were confident enough to interfere with the ritual, you must know how to get out."

Morse coughed twice, as though dirt had really poured into the throat he no longer possessed. "Cough, cough. We need to ask a shaman about that."

"But aren't you an all-knowing spirit? Don't tell me you don't know where the Forgotten Grassland's exit is."

"Spirits come in different kinds too. Since the Zagwell Clan split off from our ancestor Voon Rock Body, we have all been exceptionally brave warriors. Only a handful of shamans have ever appeared among us. Do I look like one?"

Ancestor suddenly let out a scream. "Ah, my eyes! I'm Iron Bone, not Iron Eyes!"

Kas was getting angry. He needed to reevaluate Ancestor's reliability yet again.

According to Morse's own account, Iron Bone had spent his entire life on battlefields. He had slain dragons, butchered mammoths, and once been King Busuo's greatest warrior.

But none of that could conceal one truth: he was a brainless brute.

He had been stupid enough to hunt a Thunder Titan alone, only to be smashed by a hammer powerful enough to shatter mountains until nothing remained of him but a crack-covered head. The only hard thing about his entire body was his mouth.

Just as he was searching for inspiration and considering how to enlighten his brainless ancestor's head, Miss Aowu let out a low growl and pointed toward the distant crack.

"Aowu~"

"You're saying that's the exit?" Kas released Ancestor's eye sockets.

"Aowu~" Miss Aowu nodded, then shyly pointed at Kas's fur coat.

What does that mean? Is there something special about me?

Kas was puzzled, but then he heard Morse curse, "Idiot! She's your wife now. Can you tolerate your wife standing naked before strangers? Take off your clothes."

"Isn't fur clothing?"

Using that excuse, Ancestor roared into his descendant's ear.

"Would you go outside wearing nothing but chest hair?"

But I don't have chest hair... Come to think of it, that is strange. The boys in the tribe who are a few years younger than me have chest hair thicker than a bear's fur, yet I've barely even grown a beard.

Kas took off the coat sewn from animal hide and handed it to Miss Aowu, only to find that she merely held it in her hands without making another move.

"Stupid boy, a werewolf's claws can't retract into its paw pads like a cat's. Put it on her for her."