In the heart of the Verdant Wilds, where jade-colored mist curled through ancient boughs and the leaves whispered secrets only old beasts could understand, there lay a lake so clear it reflected the sky more honestly than any mirror. Above it, cascading from a rocky ridge that glistened like tempered steel, a waterfall pounded downward in a relentless torrent—thick sheets of water slamming against stone and surface with a roar that would terrify lesser creatures.
Beneath that thunderous cascade, sprawled like a bored noble child on a too-luxurious couch, lay the wolf.
He wasn't just any wolf. He had grown, both in strength and stature—now four meters long from his sleek snout to his elegantly swaying tails. A beast of Order Five, with veins that hummed with the soft crackle of lightning and eyes that shimmered like duskstorms. He looked less like a predator and more like a very lazy, very pampered deity on vacation.
One paw, thick with rippling muscle and fur so dark it absorbed the light, was folded under his massive skull, keeping his head elevated. His eyes were half-lidded, brows drooping, watching the sky—or perhaps watching absolutely nothing. His posture was artistry: his right leg bent at the knee and perched gently atop the other, forming a casual triangle that screamed, "I could destroy a mountain, but I'd rather not."
And indeed, the waterfall crashed over his body with enough force to flatten a rhinoceros. But to the wolf, it was nothing more than a slightly persistent massage. He didn't even blink. After all, if the heavens themselves dropped a storm upon him, he might grumble before rolling over and going back to sleep.
Just in front of this picturesque scene, the lake rippled with life.
Two particularly tubby boars—his longtime frenemies—were splashing and swimming in the lake like piglets in a spring puddle. Their skin glistened, reflecting the sun in patches thanks to the metallic grey juice dripping down their snouts. They were devouring metal mangos—a strange and wondrous fruit gifted to the wolf earlier by none other than Steel Jaw Hippo as tribute. These mangos looked like someone had plucked chunks of ore and polished them to a fruity sheen: steel-grey skins that clinked faintly when tossed, but inside? A glowing golden flesh, sweet and tangy with every bite, filled with qi that fortified bones like smithing hammer strikes.
The boars' snorts echoed across the water.
"Heh! I swear this mango made my tail curl a whole centimeter more!" the thinner of the two boars (relatively speaking—he was still the size of a cart) squealed with glee.
"That's your stomach bloating, dumb pig," grunted the larger boar, who promptly slapped the other across the snout with his own metal mango. The fruit made a "clink" sound on impact. "Also, your tail's always been pathetic."
"Shut it, I'm evolving!"
"Into a rolling dumpling maybe."
They laughed. Loudly. Obnoxiously. The type of laughter that bordered on wheezing and snorting and occasionally farting, the kind that could shake the silence of sacred lands. They splashed each other. At one point, they cornered a poor golden fish and started singing at it until the fish died from confusion or second-hand embarrassment.
Meanwhile, on his waterfall throne, the wolf narrowed his eyes, watching them.
He was… bored.
Soul-deep bored.
The kind of bored that clawed at your thoughts like an itch you couldn't scratch. He had strength. He had food. He had a perfectly convenient hippo mount for when walking felt too undignified. But alas, the heart of a young beast—even one approaching the strength of the heavens—was still prone to the same curse:
Nothing fun was happening.
Not even a beetle assassination, not even a foggy ambush. Not even the hawk pooping on someone by accident. Nothing.
The boars, as if knowing this, had taken to teasing him every ten minutes or so. They'd splash, glance back at the waterfall, and shout things like:
"His Majesty still meditating or just too lazy to scratch his own butt?!"
"I bet he can't even swim! Too top-heavy with all that power!"
"His qi smells like burnt grass!"
The wolf yawned. A long, slow yawn. His back leg gave a token kick, as if to swat away the insult. He licked his paw idly, blinking slowly.
Then, like a divine child deciding to poke ants with a thunderbolt, an idea waltzed across his mind.
His newly transformed qi had turned to lightning, courtesy of the Sky Eel Core, and it now pulsed in his veins like living plasma. He had been experimenting with it here and there, but always alone. But now…
Now?
He slowly raised his right paw.
The mouth in his palm—still unsettling to most who saw it—opened with a lazy growl, its teeth jagged and curled like tiny obsidian spears. A soft golden glow emanated from the throat of the palm-mouth, and with it… a crackling tension began to gather. Sparks flickered like tiny fireflies having a brawl, and a low buzzing filled the air.
The wolf didn't even sit up. He didn't even roll over. He just tilted his paw slightly, aimed toward the lake, and spat a thread of qi-infused lightning.
It was small. Harmless-looking. A lazy arc of blue-gold light that zipped across the air like a hiccup.
But it had intent.
And that intent was mischief.
The bolt struck the water with the grace of a swan dive—and the effect was immediate.
ZzzzzZzzapppPP!!
Both boars convulsed mid-laugh. Their eyes bulged. They clutched each other, snouts vibrating. Their tails stood perfectly straight like tiny antennae. A moment later, a giant plume of water exploded upward in a geyser of froth and panicked fish.
"AAAAAAAAHHHGGGG–!"
"THE SKY IS SCREAMING IN MY SPINE!"
"IS THIS ENLIGHTENMENT?!"
The water rippled outward, and a family of frogs sitting on lily pads nearby were launched a meter into the air, their croaks becoming brief screams before splashing back down.
The wolf? He chuckled softly. A satisfied hum through his throat. His paw lowered slowly. The mouth on it licked its lips.
The boars were now floating belly-up for dramatic effect, arms spread, twitching. Smoke rose from the tips of their ears.
"…He's bored again…" muttered the smaller boar with a twitching eye.
"…We're gonna die one day because of that boredom…" agreed the larger one, wheezing.
One of the fish they had been bullying earlier swam past them in smug silence.
And the waterfall continued to crash, indifferent to the chaos it blessed.
Birds flew overhead. Somewhere in the trees, the hawk sneezed. A few clouds rumbled above, as if the sky was laughing at the boars too.
And beneath it all, the wolf let out a content sigh. Still bored. But now? Slightly less so. Which, in his opinion, was a win. A lazy win, but a win nonetheless.
He would wait here. Maybe eat a mango or two. Maybe poke the boars again. Or maybe… maybe try to flirt a snake again.
Right now?
He was still lounging.
But just few days later entertainment came knocking on the door.
The sun hung lazily in the sky, slightly veiled by drifting clouds like a sleepy uncle hiding behind a tattered bedsheet. The air was warm, scented faintly with pollen and watermelon rind, and rustled with the chirping of insect beasts and distant bird screeches that sounded suspiciously like curses.
High above this landscape of peace and furred territorial disputes, a lily pad glided across the air like an oversized green hoverboard. It shimmered faintly, an artifact of flight constructed not from actual vegetation but from jade-infused spiritual silk and reinforced with formations of lightness, balance, and — most importantly — extreme smugness. This was the ride of Elder Sun Jin, and it was large enough to carry him and the four inner disciples of the Nail Strom Sect, each standing or sitting cross-legged in complete silence.
Or rather, almost complete silence.
"Elder Sun, are you sure… this is the right decision?" asked Duan Ning, a clean-faced young man who had not yet recovered from the psychological trauma of peeing his pants when he saw the four pacts.
"Silence, boy," Elder Sun Jin barked with a sharp frown. "Have you ever loved someone so much that your dantian quivered?"
The four disciples looked at each other. Lao Ping raised his hand. "I once loved a spirit beast mouse… until it bit me. Took me three weeks to find my pants again."
Elder Sun Jin squinted. "I'm talking about real love, boy. The kind that makes a man cross sect borders, challenge beast pacts, and consider re-cultivating his face to look less like a grumpy raisin."
"You're doing this for Elder Widow Yun, aren't you?" asked the only girl in the group, a slim-shouldered disciple named Bei Ruo. Her voice was barely a whisper, like she knew what she was stepping into.
Sun Jin didn't answer immediately. He simply looked into the distance with eyes full of melancholy and idiocy. "The goth. The wine drinker. The death-glare queen. When she walks, it's as if the souls of fallen sects follow her hips."
Duan Ning almost fell off the lily pad.
It had taken them only a few days to reach the Foggy Divide — the unofficial line where the beast territories began. The Verdant Wilds lay stretched before them like a green fever dream, its dense canopies writhing with qi and sounds of things that didn't exist in normal sect scrolls. It was supposed to be a journey of months, a difficult march on foot, but Elder Sun Jin's flying lily artifact was absurdly fast. Of course, it had not been available when he'd gone to Roar Continent, which he was still sore about. That time, he had to ride a half-broken thunder goose with arthritis.
"Bad luck," he muttered. "Always when I need her, she's in maintenance."
His disciples didn't ask who "she" referred to — goose or goth — and wisely kept their mouths shut.
Descending into the Verdant Wilds, they soon arrived at the outer boundary of the Steel Jaw Hippo's domain. And to their surprise, the place looked… oddly serene.
The land here was a small miracle of order amidst chaos. A wide spring gurgled near a clump of grey-barked trees with fruit pods resembling watermelons — except they were absurdly large. Each melon was the size of a full-grown pig, with green-striped rinds that glimmered faintly as if infused with a sliver of defensive qi. Some floated gently in the water, too lazy to even drown.
"Those… those can't be normal watermelons," whispered Bei Ruo.
"They're not," muttered Lao Ping, awestruck. "They're spirit watermelons. Grown only under hippo piss."
"What?"
"It's true!" said Lao, wide-eyed. "The Steel Jaw Hippo marks the field once a week. The qi from his urine turns the soil fertile. It's a technique!"
Elder Sun Jin grumbled, "There's a fine line between technique and felony…"
As they walked forward — the lily pad now floating behind like a loyal pet — the group followed a worn-down path beside the spring. Lush grass tickled their boots, and occasionally, they had to step over droppings shaped like stone pancakes. It was the first and last warning to tread carefully.
In the distance rose a mountainous cave. Its mouth gaped like a yawning titan, and from this distance, it looked half-swallowed by vines and peculiar roots. These roots didn't grow down like normal vegetation — they grew sideways, sometimes upward, as if gravity was optional here. The entire cave mouth was framed by clusters of unripe metal mangos littering the ground, their silver skins glinting like coins. The mangos, hard and unappetizing at first glance, pulsed faintly with earthy qi.
The cave itself, however, was pure darkness. No light, no flicker of heat or movement. Yet everyone in the group felt the presence inside.
Someone… was watching.
Deep in that black tunnel, on a stone slab carved with unnecessary bravado and half-eaten melon pits, a wolf lay on his side.
He had one paw tucked under his head like a bored bachelor lying in his bedroom, contemplating the meaning of ceiling tiles. One leg bent in a triangle. The other straight like a lazy sword. His fur shimmered faintly, now laced with lightning veins that crackled with his breathing. His body stretched four meters long — an adolescent monster, yes, but the kind that accidentally steps on ancient legacies and shrugs it off.
He yawned. Slowly. Loudly.
The echoes rang through the cave.
The wolf's many eyes blinked one after the other like a ripple. He'd sensed the humans a while ago. Their scent was as loud as their bad intentions. The hippo had already sent a message through a fast bird — a crude but effective communication method involving chucking a shaped rock toward a bird who knew what to do. The boars had also been warned, though they were currently busy chasing armored fish.
The wolf sniffed. He didn't move.
His tail flicked once.
From the shadows further in the cave, two large eyes opened. The Steel Jaw Hippo.
He was awake too.
And so was his wife. And his sons.
And they weren't happy.
Back when sun jin made his entry, from beasts perspective:
The Verdant Wilds had always been wild — that much was never in dispute. But today, they were aware. The groves held their breath. The clouds above swirled slower, watching. The vines on the trees curved as if listening to some ancient whisper in the air.
That whisper was Elder Sun Jin's unconcealed aura — and it screamed louder than a drunk tiger at a karaoke brothel.
Sun Jin, in his Core Emergence Middle Stage glory, strode into the boundary of the Verdant Wilds like a drunken nobleman entering a street brawl: loud, arrogant, and carrying far more wine than sense. His presence was like a glowing red ink stain in a pool of clear water — visible, tangible, and deeply offensive.
He had made the mistake that arrogant humans often did when they came into beast lands: assuming the beast pacts were too savage to nurture powerhouses.
"Bah," he had scoffed on the way in, waving off Duan Ning's cautious tone. "Beasts in this sector are rarely above Foundation Establishment. No need to restrain myself."
And with that declaration, the man had puffed out his chest, let his core aura spill forth like smoke from a drunken chimney, and marched straight into the Hippo's zone with four terrified inner disciples clinging to his coattails.
He had no idea.
He had no idea.
Because the moment Elder Sun Jin's aura touched the mossy threshold of the Verdant Wilds, every beast pact from the southern cliffs to the fog-drenched jade marshes sensed him.
The Skyrazor Hawk flinched while cleaning his wings atop a branch four thousand feet high. His tail feathers sharpened reflexively. His third and fourth stomachs gurgled.
The Bronze Kong, somewhere deep in his boulder garden, froze mid-flex while lifting his morning logs. His six-pack clenched into a twelve-pack. He immediately picked up a spyrock and looked toward the hippo's territory.
Even the lesser beasts — the snake-vine hyenas, the mud gibbons, the honey-furred oxen — all trembled and looked eastward.
But no one moved.
Not one pact stirred toward the Hippo's spring.
Why?
Because beasts may form pacts, but they are still beasts — and beasts understand territory.
If the Hippo died… someone else could take his mangos. And his spring. And his terrifying piss-fertilized watermelon patch.
No, it was not worth the risk to interfere. Let the elder do what he pleased. If the Hippo survived, they could laugh about it later. If not — well, everyone wins.
Everyone except the Hippo.
And the Hippo knew it.
He had long known his luck wasn't strong, but today, it shriveled up entirely. As soon as he sensed Sun Jin's presence, his tusks started clacking uncontrollably. His inner qi convulsed. His wife grabbed the children and started packing their emergency melon stash.
In desperation, the Hippo called for the only creature he trusted who could still possibly flip the odds.
The Wolf.
A message was composed in the usual Hippo style: grunts, stomps, a bit of spitting for dramatic punctuation. The words, roughly translated, were:
> "BIG DANGER. STRONG HUMAN. HELP. I OFFER HALF OF MY GOODS! NO WAIT, TAKE EVERYTHING EXCEPT MY WIFE AND SONS
The message was rolled into a jade ring, stuffed into a feather satchel, and strapped to the leg of the fastest flying bird the Hippo's territory had to offer: a triple-winged blurfin hawk with a caffeine addiction.
The bird shot off like a green arrow dipped in lightning.
The wolf, miles away, was already waiting on top of a pine tree, bored out of his many eyeballs.
He caught the hawk midair with one paw, unwrapped the message, read it thrice, and grinned.
Lightning cracked from his jaws. Thunder hummed behind his tail.
Entertainment had arrived.
He moved.
No beast saw him pass.
Even the trees whispered only after he was gone, and their whispers were not words — they were sounds of surprise, like branches gasping.
The wolf reached the Hippo's cave before Sun Jin even entered the inner valley. When he arrived, he did not announce himself. He did not howl. He simply walked into the cave, looked around, and climbed onto the massive stone slab meant for the Hippo and his wife's sleeping rituals.
It was… indecently massive. The stone throne-like bed was curved in places it shouldn't have been. There were grooves that looked like they'd been made by repeated body slamming. And some strange fruit peels too close to the edges.
The wolf, unfazed, plopped down like a king arriving home. His tail flicked twice before settling across one side. His many eyes closed one after another, like old trapdoors shutting.
When the Hippo and his family came rushing in, all panic and sweat, the wolf opened just one eye and said:
"Hide."
The Hippo shivered. "But—"
"Take the children. Hide with the mangos. Don't speak. Don't breathe loudly. Don't do that weird chewing thing you do when you're nervous."
"I—I don't do—"
"You do."
The Hippo's wife immediately pushed her husband toward the emergency vine tunnel at the back of the cave. The children, silent and wide-eyed, followed. A few mangos rolled after them like obedient soldiers.
The wolf was left alone on the throne.
Outside, Elder Sun Jin was nearing the cave. His boots crunched stone-flavored grass. His face bore the smirk of a man who thought he'd come to rob a frog and found a cow instead. "Still a win," he muttered.
He looked back at his disciples. "Stay close. Don't touch anything. If you see a hippo charging, run in the opposite direction and let Lao Ping die first."
Lao Ping choked. "I object!"
"Noted. Dismissed."
As they crossed the last ridge and saw the mouth of the Hippo's cave in the distance, Sun Jin paused. Then He took his flying artifact in his ring.
The air… had changed.
It wasn't just beast qi. It was thicker now. Charged. Like thunderclouds gathered underground. Like someone had woven the atmosphere into a loom and strung lightning through it.
His instincts, honed through decades of backroom fights and poorly judged romantic decisions, flared.
"...No. That's not the Hippo."
He narrowed his eyes. Deep inside that cave, hidden in the dark, the scent of something ancient stirred.
Something stronger.
And on the stone bed, sprawled like he owned every mango in the forest, the wolf smiled with all his many, many teeth.
"Let the entertainment begin." He mummers
Elder Sun Jin stood at the yawning mouth of the grand cave, his hands clasped behind his back as his inner robes fluttered slightly from the spiritual wind brushing past. The atmosphere around the cave was dense—uncomfortably so. The air itself carried a weight, as if the land was whispering, "You don't belong here." He ignored it.
His sharp, swordlike brows furrowed ever so slightly. His Core Emergence Middle Stage cultivation was not to be underestimated, yet… what was this odd sensation crawling up his spine? A presence, ancient and unblinking, had opened its eye from within the cave. His senses prickled like porcupine quills.
"…Order Five?" he murmured, trying not to let the wrinkle of concern on his face deepen. "No… something's off."
Behind him, Lao Ping and the three disciples were still giggling about a large watermelon they'd seen shaped vaguely like a woman's chest. Sun Jin rolled his eyes and extended his right arm.
"Enough. It seems something quite interesting lurks within."
He made a slow, deliberate hand seal, fingers weaving between one another like fluid flames. He tapped his palm once against his chest.
"Edges of Flames."
With that declaration, seven orbs of white-golden fire appeared in the air around him, spinning like lazy moons. One by one, they floated down into the darkness of the cave, casting long shadows across the jagged floor. The firelight didn't flicker or dance—it blazed silently and steadily, as if the flames themselves were too afraid to waver in this place.
And what they revealed… left even the unflappable Sun Jin silent.
There, laid across the stone bed carved for the Steel Jaw Hippo, sprawled like some spoiled young master of the underworld, was the wolf.
He was massive—easily four meters long, thick with coiled muscle and inhuman grace. His fur shimmered with a faint undertone of golden sparks, a side effect of the lightning now laced through his very blood. His head rested lazily on one paw, his other forelimb bent across his chest. One leg was lifted and draped casually over the other, forming a triangle like some unbothered imperial prince.
But it was not the pose that silenced Sun Jin.
It was the eyes. Or rather, the eye—the only one open. Half-lidded, glowing faintly with golden light, it stared straight at them as if it had been expecting them for years. As if it had grown bored waiting.
Worse, it wasn't even his main mouth that moved.
Two other mouths—one on his right shoulder, and one on his left—grinned slowly, showing curved canines and gums slick with a strange blue saliva that shimmered faintly. Then the one on the right shoulder yawned dramatically.
"Oh? A visitor. How rare. And with disciples, no less," it said in a deep, velvety voice.
The left mouth followed, "Do take your shoes off. This is Hippo's house. He'd cry if you dragged mud in."
Sun Jin narrowed his eyes, staring not just at the wolf but at the complete absurdity of the scene.
"...You," he said finally. "You are a Order Five beast?"
The right mouth replied before the main one so much as twitched. "Unfortunately. I applied to be Order Six, but bureaucracy in these parts is a killer."
The left mouth added, "And have you ever tried filling out beast advancement forms? They make you list all your siblings, meals, and number of teeth lost as a pup."
One of the inner disciples chuckled nervously behind Sun Jin. He waved them quiet without turning.
"You speak well for a beast."
The wolf's singular open eye blinked once—painfully slowly. The right mouth spoke again. "And you sense poorly for a human. Your aura leaked into half the Verdant Wilds. I could've roasted a fish before you arrived."
The left one whispered, "I could still do it, actually. I'm kind of hungry."
Sun Jin took a deep breath, folding his arms. "I am Elder Sun Jin of the Nail Strom Sect. I came seeking jade lilies that were stolen from our disciples by beasts. I believe your… associates… hold them."
The wolf lifted one paw and scratched his side absentmindedly. Finally, his main mouth moved—but only slightly.
"Ah. Jade lilies. Right. So you're after those…" he murmured like he'd just remembered some chore from a month ago. His voice, smooth and youthful, carried a barely veiled mockery. "_Yes, those belonged to that hawk. He gave them to the hippo. The hippo offered them to me. Then I used one to train, another to crush a berry for scent, and the last one…" he shrugged, "is probably still in my storage ring somewhere."
He talked with no care, saying any shit which came to his mind. All lies or sarcastic remarks.
The left mouth perked up. "Actually, I think it's under your bed. Next to the arm you bit off that crab once."
The right mouth chimed in. "Or was that the snack pile?"
Sun Jin's fingers clenched, not from anger, but tension. This was no ordinary beast. This was not some wild thing guarding treasure. This creature… toyed with words the way assassins toyed with daggers.
"I would like those returned," he said at last, voice cold.
The wolf smiled with his actual face this time. Slow. Dangerous. Lazy. "You can like a lot of things. I like fish. I like storms. I like watching you get flustered. But wanting doesn't mean getting, elder."
"Then," Sun Jin said, narrowing his gaze, "is it war you want?"
The wolf sat up, spine cracking with a thunderous stretch. Sparks danced across his fur.
"No," he said calmly, shaking his head once. "What I want… is to be entertained."
The flames on the cave walls dimmed slightly as tension crackled in the air. The inner disciples stepped back instinctively.
Sun Jin didn't draw his sword.
The wolf didn't bare his fangs.
But the ground beneath the cave's entrance suddenly cracked—split by a surge of invisible pressure as two titans stood merely meters apart, exchanging words cloaked in daggers and laughter coated in blood.
"Then let me entertain you," Sun Jin said quietly.
The wolf grinned.
"You already are."