Ch 76: My Wolf Husband

The pair of ghastly white hands, extensions of the shaman, appeared as if four extra palms had materialized from his wrists, like transparent spirits, flickering in and out of sight.

The hands skillfully mimicked drawing a bow in the air. As the glowing red fingertips released, the black arrow shot out with a “whoosh.” The red glow lingered and attached itself to the arrow, and then the four hands vanished as quickly as they had appeared.

The surrounding vine ghosts couldn’t withstand the force of the arrow, turning to ash in an instant. Amidst the large cloud of black vine ghost ashes, the shaman, now reduced to a dried, shriveled husk, remained.

He had once been handsome, with golden eyes—not the beastly kind, but ordinary human eyes. His tall, elegant figure had been admired by the maidens of the barbarian tribe in the desert.

But now, he was nothing more than skin and bones, barely resembling a human. Yet, this was the happiest moment of his life!

With his flesh shriveled, his gums and eye sockets were grotesquely prominent, and the shaman opened his mouth in a silent, wide grin. His current ruin meant nothing—the grand plan was set. His ancestor’s soul would soon awaken within the most powerful body, heralding the beginning of a new world for the shaman.

He would also absorb the essence of the last wolf god’s descendant, gaining the ancient “life” power that the wolf god clan had passed down for millennia.

He would become immortal!

At the same time, the black arrow pierced through the air, crossing the vast battlefield, swiftly heading toward Fuli, who was trapped by the vines!

The vines on the barbarian king’s body grew wildly, the purple sap seeping from them as they tightly bound Fuli, constraining his powerful limbs and exposing his strong chest, where his heart pulsed with unparalleled vitality!

Fuli had just roared, tearing apart the tough vines binding his arms, only to be immediately ensnared again by the rapidly growing tendrils. The barbarian king’s body was being consumed by the vines, turning to dust, his energy completely spent.

To the black arrow, now dancing with that eerie red glow, this body was perfect—wild, powerful, and full of life. It made the arrow both anxious and ravenous.

The black arrow moved with incredible speed, and in its own time, everything around it seemed to slow down as if in slow motion. The vines grew sluggishly, swords had yet to fall, blood droplets hung suspended in mid-air, sand floated, and human efforts seemed futile.

Especially on the city wall, where Lin Shuishi, desperate to leap down, seemed to move even slower. In this altered flow of time, his pupils glowed with a golden light. Everything around him was sluggish—everything except his eyes, which matched the speed of the black arrow.

He was still being held back by the soldiers around him, and Dongsheng, who had regained consciousness, was shouting at him to step back. Lin Shuishi’s frail body struggled but couldn’t break free. He couldn’t stop the arrow, nor could he even manage to leap off the wall.

He felt as though his heart had stopped, as if his blood had frozen, leaving his entire body cold. Yet all he could do was reach out helplessly toward Fuli, desperately trying to hold him back.

But he couldn’t grasp it—he couldn’t grasp anything, couldn’t reach anything.

His body was too weak.

His eyes, now filled with blood-red streaks, seemed to weep blood as he was consumed by a deep hatred.

He hated the hand that fired the black arrow, hated the devious mastermind behind it, hated the senseless war, and he hated himself—hated his own powerlessness.

But at the same time, he loved so deeply. He loved the brave soldiers and the simple, honest people. He loved the steep peaks and dense forests of Dongshan, the rushing streams, the thriving white wolf packs, and all living creatures. Most of all, he loved that wild, fierce, and unwaveringly loyal beast.

He loved him so much, a love he had never felt before—intense, overwhelming, desperate, and enduring…

In this extreme conflict and torment, Lin Shuishi felt his heart racing, a burning surge of heat rising from his abdomen, his blood boiling and surging throughout his body, causing excruciating pain in his muscles and bones.

Amidst the fierce battle, Zhao Xing suddenly heard a roar that sounded almost like that of a beast! When he turned around, the frail young man who had been protected by everyone on the main tower was nowhere to be seen. All that was left were the fallen soldiers and the stunned Dongsheng.

Dongsheng was utterly bewildered. The gentle young man who had come from Dongshan, the one he had always thought of as a neighborly boy, had suddenly sprouted sharp fangs and crimson-gold eyes. His face was covered in beastly patterns, and in that moment, he seemed to have transformed into a wild beast! In an instant, he had broken free from the grasp of more than a dozen soldiers and leaped desperately off the city wall. Dongsheng could hardly believe what he had seen.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Lin Shuishi blocked out all the sounds around him, focusing only on Fuli and the black arrow in his crimson-gold eyes.

He felt his body lighten! With a few leaps, he caught up with the flying arrow. His body, suddenly, matched the speed of his eyes.

He lunged forward, grasping the whistling black arrow with both hands, the force nearly tearing his palms apart, but still, he didn’t let it go.

Then, without thinking, he positioned his body in front of the blade…

Scarlet blood bloomed at his chest, but the arrow’s power was too great. It pierced through his fragile body, the arrowhead protruding as it struggled to break free.

Lin Shuishi coughed up a mouthful of blood! The black arrow burrowed deeper into his flesh, tearing at his insides. He bit down on his blood-soaked teeth, gripping the arrow’s shaft tightly, his hands slick with blood that now coated the entire arrow.

The arrow was finally halted by his body, but the red glow continued to rage, trying to consume Lin Shuishi. At that moment, as his body approached the brink of death, a surge of pure, radiant light burst forth from within him, rising like a blazing white flame in the darkness.

In the distance, the decayed shaman, withered like an old vine, widened his eyes in disbelief. Sensing that pure white power, he desperately crawled forward with all his remaining strength.

“Life! The power of life! Impossible, absolutely impossible!” The very thing he had longed for, the power of life, was now within someone entirely unrelated to him. And as that person’s life force faded, the power slowly dissipated, turning into nothingness.

The black arrow, now soaked with Lin Shuishi’s blood, began to lose its potency as the strength that had surged from his abdomen dwindled, eventually extinguishing. His body grew heavier, and like a withering leaf, he helplessly fell from the sky.

As Fuli struggled to turn his head and break free from the vines constricting his neck, his fierce beastly eyes were suddenly met with a sight that would be seared into his memory forever, piercing his heart for the rest of his life.

Not far away, against the backdrop of the dark blue night sky and the sea of deathly green, his beloved moon was falling from the air.

The sinister red light encased that small, delicate body, and the black sacred arrow that had once killed the rebel shaman king of the wolf god clan was now lodged in his chest…

A harrowing, guttural howl echoed through the heavens, shaking the earth. The entire beast horde grew restless and anxious, turning toward the source of the sound. The wolf king, who had been fighting, suddenly paused, dropping the vine ghost from his jaws. He had never heard such a cry before, and it filled him with dread.

Dongsheng, dragging his heavily injured body, hurried to the edge of the city wall, searching below. When he finally saw, he was struck speechless.

The giant beast, tightly bound by vines, had torn off one of its own arms. With a powerful strike from its dislocated limb, it smashed the already withered barbarian king’s skull to pieces. The drained skeleton could no longer support itself and crumbled instantly. The vines, deprived of the life force that sustained them, stopped growing and were torn apart by the enraged beast.

But it was too late—the moon had already shattered upon the ground.

The giant beast frantically charged in one direction, smashing through wave after wave of vine ghosts with its sheer physical strength. Finally, it carefully lay down beside the fallen moon, trembling, afraid to touch him.

Lin Shuishi felt as if he were sinking into a muddled dream. He vaguely sensed that he was once again in that familiar embrace, held tightly by strong arms, and for the first time, he felt at peace.

Look, he had succeeded. Fuli was still alive, holding him. How wonderful.

But he felt so cold, colder by the minute, yet his heart was filled with warmth and contentment.

The dim, chaotic world tugged at him, pulling him toward the blurred boundary between life and death. It wasn’t so bad; he had seen it before. He had come from that place, and now he was merely returning.

Yet, an unspeakable sadness and regret lingered in his heart. He wanted to look at him one more time, but after one glance, he wanted to keep looking, unable to let go.

Everything around him felt like a silent movie, and he was disconnected from it all. He barely managed to keep his eyes open, inch by inch, cherishing every moment as he looked at Fuli.

The embrace was far from steady—Fuli, holding him with one arm, fought desperately through the shadows of flashing swords and clashing blades.

Blood continued to pour from Lin Shuishi’s wounds, dripping down his dangling arm and leaving a scattered trail. The crimson blood trickled down his pale white arm, as if it were dripping directly onto Fuli’s heart. That blood was scorching, burning through the man’s heart and soul, as if it would meld their bodies together, merging them into one.

Merged into one, where you are in me and I am in you—running through the open fields of Dongshan in early spring, racing atop mist-shrouded mountain peaks, resting in hot springs bathed in the evening light, welcoming the birth of wolf cubs together, fishing in the thawing rivers, lying on high slopes watching the stars hang low over the plains, and the moon rise to its zenith.

Counting the changing seasons together, growing old with gray hair in a life of simple peace…

In a daze, Lin Shuishi felt as though he and Fuli had already lived a lifetime together, as if they had spent an entire life side by side.

Holding onto these dreams, in a world of imagined swallows, butterflies, flowers, and birdsong, he smiled faintly as his pupils slowly dilated.

Fuli suddenly stopped in his tracks. All the roaring and raging froze in time. The vine ghosts biting into his flesh went unnoticed. He held his breath, and in an instant, tears welled up uncontrollably.

Beasts do not cry—only humans do. He had carefully studied human behavior, learned to speak their language perfectly, and used their tools, thinking like them. But he had never learned to cry.

Now he understood that tears do not need to be learned. Finally, he had fulfilled his wish, becoming human, just like Lin Shuishi.

Holding his lover, now growing cold, he thought of returning to Dongshan.

The man transformed back into a giant wolf, no longer interested in fighting, indifferent to the swords and blades that wounded him.

Casting a glance at the shaman, now crazed and desperately clutching a pile of shattered red crystal fragments from the ground, Fuli pulled out the black arrow. With a single swing, the sacred weapon, still stained with Lin Shuishi’s blood, easily pierced the shaman’s body.

The shaman’s ancestors had died this way, and now he met the same fate. Fate, mysterious and intricate, had brought them to the same end.

Then, without looking back, the giant wolf leaped from the battlefield, disappearing into the dense forest.

He had entered the world, met someone, felt emotions, and learned about love and hate.

And in the end, he would take that person back with him—they were now inseparably joined, forever intertwined.

He would take his moon and return to the side of the wolf god.

He would seek out that one soul in the quiet, deep solitude of eternal rest.