A Lie advanced step by step, the stone axe gleaming coldly in the sparse moonlight. Gu Liang's back pressed tightly against the rough tree trunk, with nowhere left to retreat.
Just as A Lie raised his stone axe, a bone-chilling howl erupted from the depths of the forest—unlike any sound from leopard or jackal beasts, more ancient and primal, filled with pure predatory desire.
A Lie's movement froze abruptly, his golden pupils contracting sharply. He strained his ears, every muscle taut, instantly shifting from hunter to vigilant warrior.
A second howl echoed, closer now. Leaves rustled as if some enormous creature was moving swiftly through the trees.
A Lie emitted a low growl, making a swift decision. He seized Gu Liang's arm with a grip nearly crushing his bones, violently dragging him away from their position and sprinting toward the opposite direction of the howls.
Gu Liang stumbled along in the darkness, forced to keep pace. A Lie seemed intimately familiar with this forest, navigating obstacles with nimble agility even while dragging another person.
They cut through dense undergrowth, waded through a frigid stream, and finally slipped into a narrow crevice. A Lie left Gu Liang behind, guarding the entrance with his stone axe clenched in hand. His golden pupils scanned the darkness vigilantly.
Heavy footsteps and labored breathing passed nearby, accompanied by a peculiar scraping sound, like rock rubbing against rock. The creature lingered in the vicinity for a moment before gradually fading into the distance.
Dead silence filled the crevice, broken only by their heavy breathing. A Lie remained on high alert until he was certain the danger had completely vanished, then relaxed slightly.
He turned to face Gu Liang, his golden pupils gleaming coldly in the darkness. Freed from the constraints of the tribe, he now fully revealed his savage nature within this primeval forest.
A Lie suddenly reached out, roughly tearing open the already tattered clothing on Gu Liang's shoulder to expose the brand. His fingers pressed heavily against the healed scar, the pain making Gu Liang suck in a sharp breath.
He uttered a low, possessive syllable, each note carrying an unquestionable dominance.
He tore a strip of animal hide from his waist and wrapped it roughly around Gu Liang's nearly naked body. The gesture held no tenderness, resembling more the marking of property.
As his hands continued their downward exploration, Gu Liang suddenly struggled violently. The narrow crevice forced their bodies into close contact, and in the struggle, Gu Liang's knee accidentally jabbed into A Lie's abdominal wound.
A Lie let out a stifled groan of pain, his grip momentarily loosening. Seizing the chance, Gu Liang lunged outward—
only to be yanked back even faster by A Lie, slamming him hard against the rock wall. The searing pain in the back of his head made Gu Liang's vision go black.
A Lie's arm pressed horizontally across his chest, trapping him firmly between the rock and himself. Rage and something deeper churned within his golden pupils.
He pointed at Gu Liang, then toward the depths of the crevice, his tone a stern warning.
Just then, the unknown creature's howl echoed again from the distance. A Lie's attention wavered for a split second.
Gu Liang seized the chance, mustering every ounce of strength to ram sideways. Caught off guard and slowed by his abdominal wound, A Lie stumbled backward.
Gu Liang immediately lunged outward, but after only a few steps, he tripped over a tree root and crashed heavily to the ground. His palms and knees burned with searing pain.
A Lie caught up but didn't immediately grab him. Instead, he stood before him, looking down at his disheveled state. A complex emotion flickered in his golden pupils.
He slowly crouched down to meet Gu Liang's gaze. Unexpectedly, he didn't attack again. Instead, he reached out, roughly but efficiently examining the scrapes on Gu Liang's body.
Then he made a gesture that caught Gu Liang off guard: he pointed to the wound on his own abdomen, then to the spot where Gu Liang had collided with him, and finally shook his head.
The gesture's meaning was vague yet astonishingly clear.
A Lie stood up and extended his hand toward Gu Liang. It was not an invitation, but a command.
Gu Liang stared at the hand stained with blood and dirt, then looked into A Lie's golden pupils, which appeared especially deep in the moonlight.
The distant howls sounded again, reminding them of the ever-present danger lurking throughout this forest.
Finally, Gu Liang slowly extended his own hand and placed it within A Lie's palm.