Chapter 20: The Wolf and the Jackal

The status of the alpha wolf within the pack is unquestionable; not only does it enjoy the first share of food, but it also has exclusive breeding rights. However, just like in human society, the only way to gain such power is through combat. The battle for the title of wolf king is even more brutal—only the victorious wolf claims it all, while the defeated one faces a single fate: exile from the pack.

The one-eyed wolf strode confidently at the rear of the pack, its single remaining eye burning with fierce determination. The storm worsened, the howling wind pressing down so heavily that the wolves could barely lift their heads. Several wolf pups huddled trembling beneath their mothers.

With a roar, the one-eyed wolf brought the pack to an abrupt halt. Well-trained, the wolves instinctively formed a circle, surrounding the old, weak, and infirm in the center. Perhaps driven by hunger from a long period without food, a few wolf pups desperately pushed their way out of the pack’s embrace, running toward the trap set by Zhang Tiejun.

Just as they were about to enter the snare, a roar stopped them in their tracks. Zhang Tiejun’s thoughts churned—could this be the meeting place of two wolf packs?

The roar caught the attention of the entire pack. The one-eyed wolf rose to its feet like a warrior facing a grave threat, baring its teeth in the direction of the sound.

Through the swirling blizzard emerged a towering silver giant wolf, twice the size of an ordinary wild wolf, its sharp fangs striking fear into prey. The silver giant’s arrival stirred the previously quiet pack into restless agitation, with several female wolves responding to one another’s calls.

Sensing its authority challenged, the one-eyed wolf advanced boldly. The two wolves faced each other as if bound by a deep-seated hatred. In the next moment, the giant wolves charged at one another. A few yards apart, they leapt with powerful hind legs.

Their massive bodies collided midair, mouths snapping as they tore tufts of fur from each other before quickly separating.

“I’ve never seen a wolf king battle up close before,” Zhang Tiejun murmured, captivated by the rare spectacle.

The call of the wild stirred every gene in the animals present. The pack howled incessantly, cheering on the two combatants. Unlike the relentless pressure of the one-eyed wolf, the silver giant did not attack proactively; its gaze remained fixed on the pack.

Seizing an opportunity, the silver giant deftly dodged the one-eyed wolf’s pounce, then sprang forward like an arrow released from a bow, barreling toward the pack.

The beast, half a man’s height, charged with the force of a battle tank in close combat. The pack scattered to both sides as the silver giant used its snout to fling a small wolf pup aside.

Zhang Tiejun was momentarily puzzled, but quickly realized the pup was different.

Legend held that among tens of thousands of wolves, there was a rare individual born with disabled limbs. Unlike ordinary wolves, which have longer forelegs and shorter hind legs, this pup’s forelegs were short and hind legs long.

Though such a pup could not hunt independently, the pack treated it with great care—not for any other reason than its extraordinary intelligence. This pup could strategize for the pack and possessed wisdom far beyond that of normal wolves.

Humans had given this exceptional pup a fitting name: “Bei.”

“I never thought I’d encounter the legendary Bei in a place like this. These beasts really are just beasts, fighting among themselves like this?” Zhang Tiejun was puzzled, then quickly had a realization: “No way!”

Indeed, Zhang Tiejun had long suspected that the pack capable of silently breaking open the sheepfold and stealing sheep right under the old man Qiao’s nose was no ordinary wolf pack. Yet he had never imagined that the pack was directed by a Bei.

“But why would they fight among themselves?” a thought flickered in Zhang Tiejun’s mind.

A perfect answer soon emerged: the silver wolf was trying to prevent the pack from courting death.

This was a year of famine. Many humans and animals faced life-or-death struggles. The pack’s attack on the sheepfold satisfied their hunger momentarily but would inevitably provoke villagers’ retaliation.

Unarmed humans were no threat to the pack, but once humans used weapons, the wolves’ living space would shrink. As recorded in The Wolf King’s Chronicle, wolves were the only animals capable of employing tactics.

The presence of a Bei was a boon during years of abundance but hastened the pack’s decline during famine.

While Zhang Tiejun pondered, the silver wolf found itself trapped.

The rules of the wolf king’s contest were ironclad. For ordinary wolves, the wolf king was their protector, and under no circumstances could the king turn its fangs against the pack.

Clearly breaking this taboo, the silver wolf was soon besieged by several giant wolves, quickly left battered and bloodied.

Zhang Tiejun grew anxious; he had never expected these beasts to think.

He had heard others say that wild wolves were cunning and fierce, but had never witnessed it firsthand.

“Damn it.” Zhang Tiejun pulled the trigger with his thumb, and the Bei fell, lying in a pool of blood.

The sudden gunfire startled the already agitated pack.

Zhang Tiejun dared not hesitate; scrambling and rolling, he ran toward the trap area. With the trap’s help, he still had a chance to survive.

His movements were swift—just a few strides took him past the trap zone.

At the same time, the one-eyed wolf and several elder wolves charged forward, their labored breaths audible to Zhang Tiejun.

Finally, an elder wolf, unable to suppress its killing intent, dashed forward and triggered the hunting rig. With a loud snap, the trap snapped shut.

The elder wolf howled in pain, collapsing onto the snow.

The one-eyed wolf hesitated, unable to advance. It could only vent its frustration through howls.

At that moment, Zhang Tiejun reloaded his old flintlock hunting rifle.

As the gunshot rang out, another elder wolf fell.

After howling twice, the one-eyed wolf retreated cautiously, vanishing into the forest. With the alpha’s departure, the rest of the pack naturally had no reason to linger.

Thus, Zhang Tiejun managed to snatch back his life.

The immense tension had drained his last reserves of strength; facing the pack, he could not maintain absolute composure.

He tossed the Bei into his backpack but chose not to skin the two elder wolves. To Zhang Tiejun, these were no longer prey but worthy adversaries.

For his opponents, Zhang Tiejun was willing to show at least the minimum respect. Once he left the area, the pack would surely drag away the elder wolves’ bodies. Without the Bei’s strategies, the pack would no longer dare to attack the sheepfold so recklessly.