Descendants of the False Gods - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Mother Wolf

Snow had been falling continuously for two days. Because of this, the two children had not gone down the mountain for their daily exercise.

Since they could no longer continue their morning runs, they had to give up on them. Instead, they spent their days practicing sword swings in the snow, training in horse stances, and practicing archery inside the cave.

Every day, Big Uncle would bring them three meals and, in his spare time, teach them agility skills like dodging, leaping, and rolling.

Rather than just calling it a cave, it was more of a wooden house built within the cave walls. The large, tiger-mouth-shaped entrance had been sealed with timber sourced from the mountain, leaving space for a door and two windows.

Second Uncle personally crafted the door and windows, sanding them smooth and soaking them in tung oil. The glass, transported all the way from the Imperial Capital, was set into the frames, while the hinges and nails were forged by Big Uncle himself. When newly built, the place was truly beautiful. However, after years of exposure to the elements, the connecting parts had begun to decay and age, requiring frequent repairs. Nevertheless, the structure was still sturdy enough to block out the wind and snow.

To keep the place warm, Big Uncle had carved out a fireplace inside the wooden cave house. The chimney extended straight up to the mountaintop, covered by an inconspicuous yet weatherproof hood. The stones excavated during construction were mixed with mountain mud to build a heated brick bed.

Before autumn ended, Big Uncle had already stacked enough dry firewood beside the fireplace to last the entire winter. The cave was furnished with simple furniture, resembling an ordinary countryside home.

The two days of heavy snowfall had covered the mountain slopes with a thick white blanket. Fearing the dangers of venturing out, Big Uncle strictly forbade the children from leaving the cave.

The younger brother did not mind. He patiently assembled a hand crossbow, which he had begged Second Uncle to make for him. He had always enjoyed crafting small gadgets, whether useful or not.

The older brother, however, was growing restless. Under normal circumstances, he would either be fishing in the lake, climbing trees to catch birds, or pestering the elderly villagers to tell him legendary tales.

Today was simply too boring. Eventually, he could not stand it anymore and insisted on helping his younger brother assemble the crossbow. However, his craftsmanship was terrible. After struggling for a long time under his brother’s guidance, he finally managed to put it together—only to discover three leftover parts on the table. Unwilling to accept failure, he tried to fire it, but the trigger was jammed, refusing to budge no matter how hard he pulled.

The fireplace burned warmly, but his frustration made him break into a sweat.

Just as the two children were arguing over whether they should disassemble and reassemble the crossbow, a sudden “Bang!” came from the door. They were startled, freezing in place.

“Bang!” Another thud followed. This time, they were sure something was ramming against the door. Right after the second impact, they heard low growls, sounds of biting, and the pained whimpers of an injured animal.

Terrified by the beastly noises, the children hurriedly hid in the narrow gap between the firewood stacks beside the fireplace, using overturned chairs and tables to block the entrance.

They dared not speak, only stretching their necks to stare at the wooden door. A while passed. Though the growls continued outside, the door remained intact.

Summoning his courage, the younger brother pointed toward a shield and sword hanging above the fireplace, as well as a bow and arrows resting near the window. He knew that their wooden swords were useless against wild beasts, but the practice bow might be effective at close range. If all else failed, the metal sword and shield would surely help fend off the intruders.

Cautiously, they restored the overturned furniture and retrieved the bow and arrows, then propped up a chair to reach the fireplace weapons.

Standing on the table, the older brother barely managed to grasp the sword’s hilt. First, he took down the shield, then whispered hoarsely to his brother, “So heavy!”

Impatiently, the younger brother urged, “Hurry, give it to me.”

As soon as he took the shield, it fell to the ground with a loud “Clang!” He frowned and echoed, “So heavy!”

The older brother burst into laughter. “Told you so!” he said smugly before reaching for the sword.

Thankfully, their daily practice of a thousand sword swings had strengthened his arms to match those of a teenager. With effort, he lifted the nearly twenty-pound sword from the rack and let it drop onto the table with a “Thud.”

Just as they were admiring their achievements, “Bang! Crash!” The door was violently slammed open, falling to the ground as two massive wolves tumbled inside, locked in a fierce struggle.

Panic-stricken, the older brother jumped off the table, dragging the heavy metal sword into the firewood stack. The younger brother struggled to pull the shield with him, though it barely fit into the gap, effectively sealing their hiding spot.

The two enormous wolves, each as tall as a horse, stood up from the ground. Both were covered in deep, bloody wounds. They growled menacingly at each other, poised to continue their battle.

Suddenly, another equally bloodied wolf entered from outside and joined forces with the one near the entrance, snarling at the lone wolf deeper inside the cave.

The first wolf, injured and limping, retreated awkwardly to the farthest corner of the cave. The two wolves at the entrance slowly advanced.

As they passed the firewood stack, one of the wolves noticed the two small heads peeking out. Its bloodthirsty eyes flared as it let out a deafening roar.

The younger brother, closer to the opening, immediately crouched behind the shield in terror. The older brother, with no space to hide, instinctively thrust the metal sword forward.

The blade was sharp, its edge well-maintained despite years of disuse. As the older brother pushed it forward, he pressed himself against the cave wall for extra support. Even with his small frame, the added force was enough to drive the blade into the wolf’s throat.

The wound was not fatal, but when the wolf recoiled in pain, its movement worsened the injury, causing the cut to widen.

Blood gushed from the wound, drenching the brothers in a hot spray. The older brother’s face and chest were instantly soaked, while the crouching younger brother felt a warm stream cascade over his head and body.

The wounded wolf staggered backward, struggling to stop the bleeding. But the more it moved, the faster it bled. Within moments, it collapsed, whimpering weakly as it tried to lick its gaping wound.

Not long after, the wolf’s head drooped, and its whimpers faded. It twitched once before falling completely still.

The brothers, who had never killed anything before, stood frozen, staring at the lifeless body. Life was so fragile.

Meanwhile, the mother wolf struggled to climb onto the heated bed, but her injured front leg failed to support her weight. She fell back down with a painful yelp.

The battle raged on. The children, still in hiding, held back tears, hoping that noon would come quickly—so Big Uncle could arrive and save them from this terrifying day.