At the sound of Song’s screaming, the grasswolf jumped and span to face them in surprise. It didn’t run though, backing towards the flocks as it bared its teeth and growled at the boy and his horse.

  Far off in the distance, a voice yelled back. Someone had heard his warning.

  Now Song just had to survive long enough for help to arrive.

  “Over here you big dumb beast! Your father was a dog and your mother a – a – female dog!” Song shouted, kneeing Bongbong to a stop fifty paces away from the Demonic Beast. Song drew down his bow and fired without even pausing to aim.

  Somehow, by the grace of the True Immortals, the arrow struck true, burying itself in the grasswolf’s shoulder. It yelped, then grabbed the arrow with its teeth and worried it back and forth, pulling it free with a wet squelch. Sap and dirt rather than blood leaked from the wound, staining the brown and green grasses that partially formed the grasswolf’s pelt.

  It hadn't yet recovered before Song fired a second arrow… that fell far short. The grasswolf spat out the first and quirked its head to the side, staring at Song in confusion.

  Song swore, and fired again, this time overshooting his target. The grasswolf watched the arrow sail over its head, then turned back to Song, its mouth dropping open and its yellow tongue flapping out as though it was laughing at him.

  “Argh!” Song tried a third shot, this time striking close enough to the grasswolf’s foreleg that it snapped back into a fighting stance.

  It howled – a loud, terrible sound – that sent a chill down Song’s back, before advancing in easy jumping lopes. Song fired once more, and again the shot flew wide. He held his position even as Bongbong grew more and more skittish, until the grasswolf was closer to them than the flock. When he was sure it would follow, Song slung his bow over his shoulder and spurred Bongbong on with a “Hyah!”

  Bongbong bolted, leaving the grasswolf in the dust. Song had to reign in his powerful mount to avoid leaving the beast too far behind; he wanted it to keep chasing them. Whenever he had enough space, Song stopped long enough to fire an arrow, miss, and then run away again. All the while, Song shouted and hollered, goading the grasswolf and hopefully guiding whoever was on the way to help.

  He’d just missed another shot when the peals of a bell echoed out over the grasslands, letting Song know that the warriors of Changpo were on their way.

  The grasswolf’s head snapped toward the village, likely realizing the same thing. To Song’s horror, it gave up chasing him and turned, racing back towards the flocks. Song panicked, kicking Bongbong around to follow after the beast, desperate to recapture its attention.

  “Coward!” He screamed, fumbling with his bow and nocking an arrow. “Weakling! You can't even fight a child!”

  Unfortunately, as written by Li Zhui in his treatise on war, things never go to plan in battle. Song had never shot from a moving horse before and Bongbong’s head whipped up when they leapt a small mound, disrupting Song’s aim. The string snapped with a familiar *thwack!* against Bongbong’s neck, drawing blood. The horse screamed with shock and reared up on his hindlegs, and Song screamed back as he lost his balance.

  He hit the ground. Hard. By the time Song gathered his wits and dragged himself to his feet, Bongbong was gone. The horse would calm itself and return eventually, it always did.

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  But there was no time.

  The grasswolf had noticed his fall.

  Song desperately scrambled for his arrows, which had fallen from his quiver when he’d been bucked. He managed to find four, then span and searched for the grasswolf. It was twenty paces distant, and had slowed to a steady stalking pace. It circled him, its tongue lolling out in that laughing expression once more.

  Today was Song’s first time seeing one of the beasts up close, though Father often told tales of the giant foundation level alpha that’d given him the ragged scar over his eye. This one had the body of a wolf, but with fur seemingly made of mangy grasses, in a mixture of brown and green that perfectly blended in with the plains. Where it should’ve had teeth, rows of wicked barbed thorns dripped with gooey sap. Its four eyes were a green eldritch glow, rather than the black orbs of a mortal animal. This was what true qi deviation looked like.

  Song shivered and lifted his bow. “Go away! Others are coming to kill you! You’re courting death by coming this close to the village!”

  If the grasswolf could understand him, it didn’t show it. Core level Demonic Beasts were capable of speech, but if it was at that stage it would’ve caught him in an instant. This one was likely still at refinement level, like Song himself.

  Song nocked one of his four arrows and aimed. He didn’t need to beat it, just stall for time. Someone would surely come to his aid soon. Each slow, cautious step the wolf took was a win for him.

  The grasswolf tensed, and Song loosed his arrow. It stuck into the ground right before the grasswolf, who snarled and jumped back. Song strung another arrow, cursing as he did so. This damn bow!

  The grasswolf didn’t wait for him to reload, but charged forward, paying little heed as Song desperately shot again. This time barely scratching the beast's shoulder as it leapt.

  The world suddenly moved in slow motion as Song let the practiced steps of Fox’s Footwork guide him around the grasswolf’s strike. The wolf flew through the space he’d just vacated and came to a skidding halt, shock registering on its face.

  Song’s breath came in panicked gasps. He could do this! So what if he couldn’t hit the broad side of a yurt. He still had his martial arts! He unhooked the string of the bow, then held the now straight shaft of wood in both hands like it was a staff. He assumed the proper stance for basic Changpo staff arts and shouted, “Come at me!”

  The grasswolf snarled once more, then charged. Song snapped the bow up, expertly catching it on the chin and knocking it head over heels. Even without Wood qi to strengthen him, the superior reflexes and light movements provided by Void qi were more than enough to deal with a single grasswolf.

  The grasswolf rose to its feet, then feinted to the left before charging to the right. Song followed its motion with easy steps, the Fox’s Footwork ingrained in his muscles keeping him balanced.

  An overhead blow to the head and two to the side, and the grasswolf was on its last legs. Pride and joy swelled in Song’s heart. This was his first time using his improved body in a real fight – his first real fight ever – and he was dominating it! No wonder cultivators acted like they stood at the top of the world!

  And to think he’d been worried.

  The grasswolf bunched its haunches, preparing to flee or charge. Song fell back into a ready stance, and motioned at it with one hand. “Come and meet your death at the hands of I, Lee Song!”

  In reply, the grasswolf’s maw glowed with green Wood qi, as the thorns that made up its teeth suddenly expanded and grew until they were nearly twice as large. It looked almost identical to the Lee family’s Crown of Thorned Horns technique and for half a second Song felt a stupid feeling of kinship with the beast.

  Then the wolf shot forward, and Song’s makeshift staff met it. His bow struck the wolf in its thorny maw, halting its momentum, but its body continued forward, heedless, as the bow bent, creaked–

  And snapped.

  Song stared stupidly at the two pieces of broken wood in his hands. “Wait –”

  And then the grasswolf hit his chest with its shoulder, sending him flying. His head struck the ground, and pain exploded through his mind before he fell into blissful unconsciousness.

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