The Luo Clan in Winter City knew nothing of what had happened in the Central Plains.
Across the broad river, shimmering waters wound into the distance, white waves rolling up one after another. Lush forests lined both banks, overgrown with weeds. This was an uninhabited wilderness, naturally without broad straight roads connecting it to anywhere.
Dozens of sturdy men stood bare-chested aboard boats, fishing nets, knives, and forks in hand, racing across the water. Droplets fell onto their bodies, glittering in the sunlight, their explosive contours brimming with strength. Almost all stood eight feet tall. One man hauled a boat against the crashing waves, roaring so loudly that his tiger-like cries shook the mountain forests.
In the forests north of Winter City, dozens more men raced through the mountains in groups. They moved as nimbly as apes, hunting spears and bows in hand. Almost everyone had a ferocious dog beside him, each as tall as a man when it stood upright. These dogs raced everywhere through the mountains, driving out prey one animal after another. Their furious barking and the men's shouts filled the forests. Young animals were spared, while prey gradually entering old age fell to their hands.
"Chief, this is where we found traces of the mountain lord!"
The news immediately brought cheers from the group. Only one animal could bear the title of mountain lord: what later generations called the Siberian tiger.
In this era, Siberian tigers were extremely numerous. They were everywhere in the vast mountain forests.
Anyone entering the forest alone would meet only one end when facing a Siberian tiger: death.
But so many members of the Luo Clan had entered the mountains together, carrying bows and long spears. Naturally, they had no fear of a solitary animal like the Siberian tiger.
Moreover.
The