In the wilderness, within the dense forest...
On a flat stretch of land, a massive tribal camp came into view.
Within the camp, bonfires blazed brightly, pushing back the darkness and bringing a rare sliver of warmth—a warmth so scarce it was almost sacred. Large groups of werewolves gathered around the fires, laughing wildly, roasting various types of food over the flames.
You could see all sorts of things being cooked.
There was meat from savage beasts, and in large cauldrons, meat broth simmered ominously. But inside that broth, one could see fingers bubbling to the surface, heads bobbing up and down.
They were human body parts. Human heads.
These were whole humans, boiled into stew.
From the expressions on the werewolves' faces, it was clear—they felt no guilt or hesitation about eating people. To them, humans were nothing more than a platter of meat laid out before them. Nothing else. Just blood food. Good only for filling their stomachs.
"Hmph, I heard the Iron Hoof Tribe, those bull-headed brutes, got visited by a human army from Xuanhuang City. They even brought them a mountain of supplies. These humans are really pushing us too far. Gifts for the bulls but nothing for us? These humans deserve to be tossed into the pot and cooked into stew!"
"Exactly! I came across a human woman recently. She was soft and tender... though too weak. Died after a few rounds with me. But still—grilled her up afterward. Tasted great. Women's meat is especially fragrant and tender—far better than men."
"Men's meat is chewy—also good."
Werewolves huddled in small groups, chatting casually, their talk always circling back to humans. The fact that Mao Sui and the envoy visited the Minotaurs but not the werewolves, gave them gifts but ignored them, stoked a deep fury in their hearts. They felt slighted, disrespected.
Even kobolds could tolerate this. But werewolves could not.
They were seething with resentment, vowing to teach the humans a lesson the very next day. What if they came from Xuanhuang City? As long as they were dead, no one would know who did it. They'd just deny it.
"Those bull-headed freaks want to fight us over Jiuquan too? What a joke! Jiuquan belongs to us. Soon, we'll gather even more wolf packs and wipe the Iron Hoof Tribe off the map. Then they'll know the true strength of the Werewolf Race!"
"Just thinking of Jiuquan makes my mouth water. They say the spring water is the perfect spirit wine—its fragrance intoxicating, and it even contains spiritual energy. It's said that if you use Jiuquan water to brew wine, even the cheapest alcohol can become powerful spirit wine."
"Something that precious can only be controlled by our Bloodclaw Tribe. With it, we'll become the strongest werewolf tribe there is."
Jiuquan's true value wasn't just its flavor or aroma—it was the fact that its spring water served as a perfect catalyst for brewing spirit wine. Ordinary wine, when brewed with it, could transform into genuine spiritual brews.
Its effects wouldn't just be doubled or tripled—they'd be multiplied by dozens or hundreds of times. That kind of value made Jiuquan priceless.
That's why the Bloodclaw Tribe would never give up Jiuquan. Their earlier talk of trading it for milk wine was a trick meant to deceive the Minotaurs. They had no intention of letting go of Jiuquan. It was all a pretext—a reason to go to war. Secretly, they'd been rallying werewolf packs. The numbers were already staggering. All they needed now was the right moment to strike and deliver a killing blow.
"You idiots! The Minotaurs have already snuck off in the night to steal Jiuquan's spring eye!"
Just as the Bloodclaw Tribe basked in their confidence, a sudden shout ripped through the camp, echoing like thunder.
It shocked every werewolf to their core.
Instantly, they rushed out of the camp, trying to track the source of the voice—but they found nothing. No sign of who shouted. No idea what exactly the message meant.
"Who yelled just now? Could it be... are the Minotaurs really going after the spring eye?"
"Not good! Everyone, rally! Summon the wolf packs and head for Jiuquan immediately! If those thick-skulled brutes really take the spring eye, our Bloodclaw Tribe will become a laughingstock! We'll never be able to lift our heads among the werewolf clans again!"
"Hurry! Hurry! The brothers guarding Jiuquan are gone! Something must've happened!"
Whether the message was true or not, the Bloodclaw Tribe couldn't ignore it. No matter how confident they were, they had to see for themselves. No one would be able to sleep otherwise.
Jiuquan was far too important.
Its value could not be measured.
The werewolves surged out of the camp in droves.
Massive wolf packs followed.
Their destination: a canyon.
Meanwhile, in the darkness, the Minotaurs were also on the move. Despite being in the wilderness, they moved swiftly and quietly. Their powerful auras made even wild beasts stay far away, too scared to approach, lest they be slaughtered.
Clearly, the Minotaurs had come here in secret.
Leading them was none other than the Iron Hoof Tribe's chieftain—Niu Dali.
Jiuquan was located within a canyon—more precisely, a crack in the land. The fissure wasn't large—only wide enough for a few Minotaurs to pass through side by side. The werewolves and Minotaurs both called this place Youquan Gorge—literally, "Spring Gorge."
A plain and simple name.
"Niu Da, take some of the brothers to the top of the gorge. When I give the signal, collapse the whole place. Once those wolf pups enter, bury them alive!"
Niu Dali's eyes gleamed with cruelty as he issued the command.
"Don't worry, Chief. You know I get things done. Once we secure the spring eye, none of those wolves are leaving. I haven't had this much fun in ages!"
Niu Da let out a sinister laugh.
With a wave, he led a team of Minotaurs to the top of the gorge.
Niu Dali then led the others into the canyon.
"That's the Jiuquan. Smells amazing."
As they entered the gorge, an intoxicating wine aroma filled the air. It was so potent it made them instinctively crave a drink. Any wine lover would've felt the urge to drink surge in their bones.
Just that alone made the Minotaurs unwilling to give it up.
"Something's wrong—the scent's too weak."
"Yeah, I've been here before. The fragrance used to hit you like a wave. Now it's barely noticeable. Something's not right."
"Quick, move! Something's happened to the Jiuquan!"
Niu Dali's face changed. He barked a sharp order and rushed ahead.
At the heart of the canyon, a pool of liquid came into view. The alcohol aroma was clearly coming from it. This was Jiuquan.
But something was off.
The pool was noticeably shallower than usual.
"Chief! The spring eye is gone! The pool hasn't refilled at all. Someone's stolen it before us!"
One of the Minotaurs cried out, his face pale.
The guards—both werewolves and Minotaurs—had vanished. Ominous.
And just then, from the other side of the canyon, a massive wave of werewolves and wolves surged forward.
"Bloodclaw Tribe! You damn wolves! You've gone too far—stealing the spring eye, and now you bring an army to wipe us out?! You're treacherous beyond belief! This is unforgivable! Our Iron Hoof Tribe will never rest until you're destroyed!"
Niu Dali was livid, flames practically leaping from his eyes.
The sight of countless werewolves and wolves blanketing the canyon filled him with dread. It was terrifying.
In his mind, only the werewolves knew about Jiuquan's location. They'd maintained a pact of secrecy—even Mao Sui's brief mention at the banquet had revealed nothing specific.
If the spring eye was stolen, it had to be the werewolves. How else could they arrive in such force?
It was a trap. A setup.
"The Jiuquan is empty. The spring eye is gone. Niu Dali, you sly old bull—you dare steal from us!"
A furious roar echoed from the werewolf side.
"You damn wolves! You steal from us, then shout thief! And now you try to pin this on me? Don't think the Iron Hoof Tribe will take this lying down! Fall back!"
Niu Dali was so angry he could barely breathe.