Chapter 77: The Tiger Hunt on Pine Mountain

Chapter 77: Song Mountain Hunts the Tiger

As Li Hongshen and his companions advanced, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. The small beasts that once darted among the pine branches had vanished, and the trunks bore claw marks and urine traces from tigers. The pine trees, so large that it took three or four people to encircle one, sported several gouges, as though a row of ladles had dug out their bark. Li Hongshen knew these trees were a kind of hardwood, their trunks rich in resin and remarkably resilient. Centuries-old, thriving in the abundant energy of the wilds, these pines had become extraordinarily tough and heavy.

Only weapons inscribed with shamanic runes, wielded by warrior-class subjects, could leave marks upon such trunks; ordinary iron tools could only scratch the surface lightly, with those traces vanishing at a mere touch. The extensive scarring now visible had to be the work of the so-called Mountain Lord—the king among the Song Mountain tigers.

This scene made Li Hongshen and his party even more cautious, slowing their progress. To traverse Song Mountain without encountering its tigers would have been ideal. Reality, however, proved otherwise.

With the chorus of tiger roars and the cries of storm eagles overhead, a host of tigers emerged from the woods before Li Hongshen. Black, gold, and white stripes intermingled across their bodies. Their massive feline faces and vertical pupils sent chills down one’s spine, and the rumbling growls from their throats struck terror in the hearts of all.

Li Hongshen and his companions halted, facing the tiger pack. The speed of their discovery caught Li Hongshen off guard, but the encounter itself was no surprise.

“Kill them all—leave not a single tiger alive,” Li Hongshen commanded without hesitation or pity. Tigers would not reason with them. There could be no retreat; to flee would mean a longer route and certain death at the claws of these beasts. Forward was the only path.

Upon hearing his words, Zhao Yun took the lead, bone spear in hand, charging into the fray. The others maintained a defensive ring, round shields forming two layers and spears braced in the gaps. Li Liang and the shamaness began casting spells, strengthening the warriors for battle.

The clash unfolded as expected, the party colliding with the tiger pack in a brutal, bloody struggle beneath the mountain pines. Li Hongshen and his followers fought to forge ahead, sacrificing themselves for the lord’s cause, while the tigers fought for survival—and for the newborn cubs in their territory.

The battle raged for three hours. When the last tiger fell, Li Hongshen’s group did not linger, nor did they have time to gather their fallen comrades. They pressed on in the direction from which the tiger pack had come.

“Just as I thought—they arrived in time. I knew these beasts would do this,” Li Hongshen said with some relief, cradling three small tiger cubs, their fur streaked black, white, and gold.

In the wilds, when a predator’s pack faced annihilation, the remaining mature beasts would kill all the cubs, ensuring their passing was peaceful. This time, thanks to the storm eagle’s distraction, Li Hongshen had drawn the tiger king and several guardians away. When they finished off the pack and rushed over, they successfully collected fifty-six tiger cubs.

What pleased Li Hongshen most were the three tiger king cubs in his arms. They were noticeably larger than the others, all with eyes still closed, adorably vulnerable. This explained why the tiger king had not led the pack into battle, but stayed behind to guard the territory. The king was a tigress, freshly delivered and not yet recovered, which spared Li Hongshen’s party greater hardship.

Even so, Li Hongshen’s tribe paid the price of eight warriors’ lives—those who fought alongside Zhao Yun and Li Li on the defensive perimeter. Their relentless assault and division of the tiger pack kept the pressure on the defensive ring balanced, preventing its collapse.

After stripping the tiger territory of valuables, Li Hongshen wasted no time. He ordered the tiger corpses carried back and made arrangements to recover the bodies of his own fallen warriors. He watched as their bodies were consumed by flames, not shedding tears nor showing sorrow, only strength and endurance.

He had long steeled himself for such moments. The saying “Mercy has no place among soldiers” was etched deep in his heart. As a lord, sacrifice among his subjects was inevitable.

It was often said in civilization: the lord’s throne is built upon the bones of his people. Li Hongshen agreed with this sentiment. At the first loss, he had felt grief and guilt, seeing warriors who had served him fall because of his decisions. But he had no time to wallow in such emotion, nor could he express it openly. Their sacrifice was for him, and he could not waste it.

He opened the lord’s domain, gathered the ashes of his warriors, moved tiger corpses, transplanted the spiritual herbs and plants he had collected, and most cherished of all, took possession of a dozen purple spirit pine saplings.

The tiger cubs were placed in the beast sanctuary, where trained veterinarians would raise them. All with unopened eyes would be fed sheep’s milk until ready for solid food, then transitioned to minced meat. Those older, with eyes already open, were culled—all because these cubs had begun to move and remember, making them difficult to tame. Li Hongshen would not waste time or resources gambling on their domestication; fifty-odd cubs were more than enough.

If he failed to reach the target city as planned, in a few years his territory might not be able to support these voracious beasts.

A thousand meters from the Phoenix Perch Valley fortress stood a massive monument, constructed of gray-white stone bricks. One face bore names in ashen black, beginning to appear.

This was Li Hongshen’s memorial, inscribed with dozens of shamanic runes by the mammoth shaman. It listed the names of all warriors sacrificed since the first exploration of the wilds, their remains buried beneath the monument.

He placed the warriors’ bone tokens and ashes at the foot of the stone, where they slowly merged within it. Eight new names appeared in gray-black upon the monument’s face.

Li Hongshen stood in silence before the stone for a moment, then once more packed up his domain and led his people onward.

Today was a little better—the pain eased, so I managed to write a chapter. Just one update today. When I recover, I’ll try to make up for it as best I can...

(End of chapter)