Chapter 188: Let’s Run, Fox (IV)

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Chapter 188: Let’s Run, Fox (IV)

“Avani tracks.” Mutu crouched to inspect the prints in the grass, his voice grave. “At least two hundred.”

The lion tribe numbered a little over four hundred in total, and nearly half were elderly, children, or others with little combat ability. If the Avani attacked while the tribe’s warriors were away hunting, two hundred fighters would be more than enough to overrun the settlement.

Shang Ke frowned. The Avani had moved several days earlier than he expected. Since the System had not announced mission failure, however, the attack must not have succeeded yet.

“Let’s go!” Mutu quickened his steps and bounded for the tribe with Shang Ke.

As they drew closer, the chaotic sounds of battle became audible. A defensive palisade more than three meters high surrounded the tribe, and over a hundred lions—men and women alike—stood behind it with weapons in hand, desperately resisting the Avani assault. Bodies already littered the ground on both sides.

The moment Shang Ke saw the palisade, he understood why the Avani had not yet taken the tribe. This time the lions had been warned and prepared defenses instead of being caught completely off guard as they had in the original timeline.

Even so, they clearly could not hold out much longer. The tribe was desperately short on fighters; some were probably still searching for Mutu, while others had gone out hunting.

Watching his people being killed, Mutu let out a furious growl and moved to charge into the battle—only for a hand to catch and stop him.

Mutu looked at the fox. Impatience and confusion were clear on his face.

Shang Ke pointed in a specific direction, then drew a simple animal on the ground with a branch.

Understanding dawned on Mutu. He remembered the herd of mule oxen they had passed near the river. “You mean we should use those bulls to drive off the Avani?”

Shang Ke nodded. There were too many Avani for the two of them to change the battle simply by joining it. The Avani could slaughter without restraint, while Mutu and Shang Ke would also have to protect the lions around them.

“Good idea.” Mutu did not hesitate and headed for the river bank with Shang Ke.

Mule oxen were herbivores native to Kaloch Mountain and one of the beastfolk’s food sources. But they were massive, thick-skinned, and usually traveled in large herds, making them difficult prey. When food was plentiful, beastfolk generally left them alone.

Along the riverbank, forty or fifty mule oxen were drinking and grazing at leisure. Mutu and Shang Ke crept into position nearby. Mutu’s pupils contracted, his features turning fierce as his golden hair stood on end and the powerful aura of a Lion King rolled outward.

The mule oxen sensed it and became alarmed.

“Awooo—!” Mutu’s roar shook the surrounding wilderness with such force that birds and beasts scattered from the forest in alarm.

He burst from the brush and charged straight at the herd’s leader. With one powerful leap he landed on its back and seized its horns, the entire movement as smooth and fast as lightning.

“Moo—!” The lead bull bellowed in panic and, under Mutu’s control, bounded toward the lion settlement.

The rest of the herd saw their leader flee and instinctively thundered after him without once considering another direction.

To keep from being thrown, Mutu clamped his legs tightly around the bull and tightened his grip on its horns. That made steering more difficult. The panicked animal began drifting off course toward the outskirts of the settlement; at that angle, the herd might pass the Avani entirely instead of crashing through them.

As Mutu struggled to correct course, something hissed through the air. A sharp *smack* followed as the bull’s neck was struck.

Mutu glanced back and saw Shang Ke lying low on the back of another mule ox, a vine in his right hand. Every so often he snapped it lightly against the lead bull’s neck, gradually correcting its direction.

The rushing wind swept Shang Ke’s long hair back from his delicate face. His expression remained composed, his clear eyes shining, while exertion had brought a faint flush to his cheeks. His snow-white tail streamed in the wind behind him. The sight was dazzling.

Distracted for a moment, Mutu nearly got bucked off. He hastily steadied himself and refocused, though one thought stubbornly remained: how in the world did Yanu make riding a wild bull look so graceful?

There was no time to dwell on it. Under Shang Ke’s guidance, the lead bull returned to the proper course and the herd thundered straight toward the Avani.

The Avani now held the clear advantage, and despair had begun to spread through the lion tribe. Just as the palisade was about to give way, the earth suddenly began to tremble and the pounding of countless hooves rolled toward them.

Everyone turned in astonishment. A tall figure burst from the forest astride a mule ox, majestic and imposing, with a billowing cloud of dust behind him.

“It’s the Chief, the Chief is back!” The lion tribe cheered.

Under Mutu’s lead, dozens of powerful mule oxen smashed into the Avani formation. The attackers scattered in complete disarray; many were trampled and killed before they could even react.

Mounted on the charging bull, Mutu looked like a god of war—unstoppable, terrifying, and destined to leave the Avani with a lasting fear of him.

The Avani no longer dared remain. They fled in disorder and vanished within moments, leaving only their mutilated dead behind.

Once the outcome was decided, Mutu caught a low branch and swung himself up into the tree. The moment he steadied himself, he looked for Shang Ke and found him hanging upside down from a nearby treetop, his back turned, body swaying gently as he watched the sunset with his tail loosely curled.

Mutu realized that his gaze kept being drawn back to the fox. Somehow, catching Shang Ke in his arms made him even happier than winning the battle.

“Come down. Let’s go home.” Mutu stood beneath the tree, looked up at him, and held out his arms.

Shang Ke swung down from the branch and landed neatly in Mutu’s arms.

Mutu set him on his feet but left an arm comfortably around his waist.

The two returned to a roar of cheers and worshipful looks. Mutu had not only driven off the Avani and saved the tribe; the sight of him charging into battle on a mule ox had left everyone shaken with awe. In this primitive world, where mounted warriors did not yet exist, riding a wild beast was itself a breathtaking display of courage and power.

The unexpected victory sent Mutu’s prestige soaring and secured his position more firmly than ever.

Mutu gathered the remaining tribesmen to count casualties and clear the battlefield. The lions had lost eleven people, with another fifty or sixty seriously wounded; minor injuries were too numerous to count. Forty-three Avani were dead, and four had been captured. For the lion tribe, this was already a significant victory. At the time, only a little over twenty able-bodied young adults had been available to fight, and later even the women and older children had been forced into the battle. Without the defensive palisade they had built in advance, the settlement would likely have been massacred.

As the tribe dealt with the aftermath, the warriors who had been away gradually returned. Learning how close the settlement had come to disaster left them furious and shaken. Then they heard their tribespeople excitedly recounting the Chief’s exploits, and their fear gave way to stunned amazement.

“Mutu, I’m so glad you came back safely.” Xite stepped forward and threw his arms around Mutu.

Mutu calmly disengaged himself. “You’ve worked hard while I was gone.”

“Haha, we’re brothers. There’s no need to talk about whether it was hard or not.” Xite smiled with apparently complete openness.

Looking at Xite, Mutu still found it difficult to believe that this was the brother who had betrayed him. They had been close since childhood. If Xite wanted the throne, he could have challenged Mutu openly and honorably. Why resort to something so despicable—colluding with the Avani and endangering their own people?

Mutu wanted to confront him on the spot, but forced himself to hold back. They had captured four Avani in the battle. Once he obtained direct testimony proving Xite’s betrayal, he could punish his brother openly and without giving anyone grounds to object.

By the time Mutu finished dealing with the endless aftermath, it was already deep into the night. He returned to his room with exhaustion showing between his brows and was just about to rest when a strange sense of absence struck him. Looking around, he found the room empty, cold, and far too quiet. One fluffy, big-tailed fox was missing.

Mutu turned around and left. After thinking for a moment, he finally remembered where Yanu lived.

Because Yanu was an outsider, he had been assigned a remote dwelling near the edge of the settlement.

Following the fox’s scent, Mutu stopped in front of a low mudbrick house. It was shabby enough to look long abandoned. The ground outside was uneven and barren, and a short path of stone slabs ended after barely a dozen meters.

The sight left Mutu inexplicably uncomfortable. He raised a hand to knock, then noticed that the door was only loosely closed and warm firelight leaked through the gap.

He pushed the door open quietly and immediately saw a white figure sitting cross-legged beside the fire, head lowered as he calmly wove a garment.

Most beastfolk clothing was made from animal hides, but anyone patient enough could also gather flax or cotton fibers, draw them into thread with the proper technique, and weave them using long needles. The resulting cloth was somewhat rough, but light and breathable—well suited to warm weather.

The room contained little beyond a table, a chair, and a bed. An old hide covered the sleeping platform; a handmade bow, arrows, and a stone ax rested in one corner; and several pottery bowls, basins, and worn cooking tools sat beside the stove. Every dish and utensil had been scrubbed clean and arranged neatly.

A snow-white fox seemed strangely out of place in such a poor, desolate room.

Sensing someone at the door, Shang Ke lifted his head and quietly looked at Mutu through the white hair falling over his eyes.

Mutu remained in the doorway and said gruffly, “I’ll move you somewhere better tomorrow.”

Shang Ke shook his head to say there was no need, then pointed to the straw mat opposite him and gestured for Mutu to sit.

Mutu walked over and sat beside him. Almost immediately, his gaze drifted toward the huge white tail curled near Shang Ke’s legs.

He stared for a long while before finally reaching out to touch it—only for the aroma of meat to suddenly reach his nose.

Mutu’s head snapped up. Shang Ke had lifted the lid from the pot, revealing a bubbling meat stew inside.

His stomach growled at once. Only then did Mutu realize that he had not eaten anything since returning to the tribe.

Shang Ke filled a bowl with soup, deliberately ladling most of the meat into Mutu’s portion, then pulled an oval lump of baked clay from the fire.

Mutu’s eyes lit up over his soup. He immediately recognized the clay bundle as the same kind of roasted pheasant he had eaten in the cave.

Shang Ke sliced the pheasant and arranged it on a plate, then brought out five large river crabs braised until tender, peeled two pale strange-bird eggs, and poured two bowls of juice made from crushed wild fruit. Just like that, a lavish dinner appeared.

Looking at the table full of food, Mutu felt the tension and exhaustion of the entire day melt away. All that remained was the deep contentment of being surrounded by delicious food and soft white fur…

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