Chapter Fourteen: This Is No Mere Scrap of Rusted Iron!

The enormous bear and the dozen or so demon wolves kept their eyes fixed on Zhou Yu and the old man from a distance, not rushing forward immediately. Zhou Yu and the old man didn’t run either; at this moment, they were roasting the meat of the demon wolf slain the previous night.

“Are they planning to wait until we finish our afternoon tea before coming over?” Zhou Yu tore at a piece of tough demon wolf meat, feeling the coarse muscle fibers that endowed the wolves with their formidable strength but made the meat difficult to swallow.

“This wolf meat is terrible. That fellow’s meat ought to be much better,” Zhou Yu chewed with effort, the roughness and gaminess filling his mouth. He gestured with the chunk of wolf meat toward the bear. “Those thick bear paws must be delicious.”

As if to confirm Zhou Yu’s words, the distant bear suddenly struck with its paw, flattening a demon wolf beside it into the snow, then lowered its head and began to devour the wolf.

With one bite, it snapped the wolf’s body in half, then rolled its tongue to pull half the wolf into its mouth, chewing with a loud crunch. The bear raised its head, chewing the wolf as it stared at Zhou Yu and the old man.

Zhou Yu stared in stunned silence at the ruined wolf head dangling from the bear’s mouth, his jaw slack, unable to speak for a long time. He had cleaved demon wolves with his sword the night before and knew well the toughness of their hides and bones; had he not used all his strength, he could only have scored a bloody line across the wolf’s body. Yet now, the bear had crushed a strong demon wolf with a casual slap. Zhou Yu tore his gaze away, bit fiercely into the wolf meat, chewing furiously as if competing with the bear to eat wolf flesh.

The bear slaughtered the wolf at its side and feasted in a scene of brutal savagery—colorful intestines, bright red blood, white brain matter—all combining to fill the air with a nauseating stench.

Yet the remaining demon wolves seemed unaware, continuing to stare intently at Zhou Yu and the old man.

“What are they waiting for? Starving so much they eat their own, yet still not making a move?” Zhou Yu gnawed at a ball of snow and asked the old man.

“I don’t know what they’re waiting for, but I feel they won’t wait much longer.” The cold wind whipped the old man’s clothes, and a rare gravity appeared on his face.

“Then why are we waiting for them to come eat us?” Zhou Yu finished his snowball, brushed his hands clean of lingering snowflakes.

“That makes sense. You take care of the wolves; I’ll handle the bear,” the old man glanced at the giant sword stuck in the snow, then quickly looked away. He would fight hard without it, but Zhou Yu needed it more.

“Let’s go!” Zhou Yu stood, stepped forward, and drew the giant sword from the snow, scattering shards of ice. After three steps, his walk became a run, charging toward the bear and wolves, meeting them head-on with the courage of a hero.

Watching Zhou Yu stride forward, sword in hand, the old man was stirred by passion. With a single palm pressed to the ground, he leveraged his strength to stand. Yet as he rose, he paused, a strange expression on his face.

“Ouch! My back!” Zhou Yu had already dashed fifty paces when he heard the old man cry out in pain and turned to look. The old man was clutching his waist with his left hand, his body twisted, face contorted in agony. He had thrown out his back!

The bear roared, surprised that these two humans dared to attack—it was the greatest provocation. With a furious roar, it led the remaining nine demon wolves in a charge from the snowdrifts, its massive paws pounding the ground and leaving pits the size of small boats. The force split the snow before it, and the bear surged forward like a black flood, leading nine sharp arrows toward Zhou Yu.

“Damn!” Zhou Yu couldn’t help but curse, feeling the earth tremble beneath him.

“Come back! Give me the sword!” the old man shouted from behind.

Zhou Yu was thinking the same, so he spun around, hurling the giant sword toward the old man and sprinted back.

The giant sword spun through the air like a massive black windmill, but it was caught easily by a firm, determined hand.

The old man gripped the sword with his left hand, his thumb rubbing a sharp protrusion on the hilt. Zhou Yu had long noticed this bump, thinking it just another flaw in the battered blade. But now, as the old man's blood flowed through a tiny hole in the protrusion, the giant sword began to glow red.

Red light broke through the rusted surface, growing ever brighter as the old man's face paled. At last, the rust vanished, and the blade shone crimson, as if about to drip blood, so bright it was hard to look at.

The bear and wolves were now within a hundred paces. Zhou Yu bit his tongue for a burst of energy, quickening his pace and leaping forward, rolling to land behind the old man.

Snow stirred by his movement melted in midair, and Zhou Yu sensed a wave of heat behind him. He turned to see the old man gripping a glowing red sword. With a gentle sweep, the red light split the air, vaporizing falling snowflakes, forming a semicircular arc that slashed toward the charging bear and wolves.

The red light was immense, carrying fierce sword intent as it cleaved toward the bear. The red in the bear’s eyes deepened; it sensed the terrifying power of the arc.

The bear opened its massive jaws, chest and abdomen contracting sharply, then spat a black beam straight toward the blazing semicircle of red light.

With a thunderous crash, where red and black met, the snow split open, forming a dozen-meter-long chasm a meter wide and two meters deep.

The wolves were caught in the explosion from the collision of energies, thrown to the ground. The bear staggered but quickly resumed its charge, its eyes blazing with ferocity.

Zhou Yu climbed to his feet; he saw the old man sway as well, clearly both sides had suffered from the clash.

“You take the sword and deal with the wolves. Leave this big dumb bear to me! No, to your grandpa!” The old man forced down the surging blood in his chest, his face flushed unnaturally.

Zhou Yu silently took the giant sword, gripping it with both hands. He felt the coolness from the sharp protrusion on the hilt. Now, the sword was incomparably sharp, radiating fiery red light. Zhou Yu’s bare arms grew hot under its glow, the heat almost burning, even the air he breathed seemed scorched.

Blood raced through Zhou Yu’s body, heating him until even his mouth tasted faintly of blood—his blood was burning! This giant sword was extraordinary; once awakened, it enhanced its wielder’s strength.

This was no scrap metal.

“Ah!” Zhou Yu could no longer suppress the boiling blood within, he raised his head and howled to the sky, his eyes bloodshot as he dragged the giant sword behind him, rushing forth with unstoppable force!