Chapter 18: Ambush
Sitting on the wagon, Su Yan's thoughts couldn't help drifting back to the comforts of modern life—and how much he'd taken them for granted. Every bump, every stone the wheel rolled over made itself known through the wood. The jolt wasn't sharp enough to bruise, but it was constant, a dull ache that crept into his bones. How merchants did this for a living, day after day, he couldn't fathom. Right now, he missed cars more than he wanted to admit.
Still, it beat walking. The road would have taken much longer on foot, and he didn't fancy camping under the stars alone.
With nothing to do but listen to the creak of wood and the oxen's steady plod, he started observing the caravan properly. One wagon rolled ahead of his, and another followed behind—each piled with goods and pulled by an ox. Two escort guards walked with every wagon, one on either side, eyes scanning the roadside like it was habit.
All in all, it was a modest caravan making a final trip to sell off goods before the New Year celebrations started in earnest.
Thinking back to the caravan's leader, Chen Yao—an older man with salt-and-pepper hair—Su Yan couldn't help but feel a little grateful. He'd approached other caravans at first, but most had brushed him off. No one wanted to deal with a child during the holiday rush.
Su Yan also hadn't wanted to lean on his status as a Spirit Master to force the matter. Most of them weren't wrong to refuse—New Year traffic was messy enough without adding a child to the list of risks. If coin couldn't change their minds, he wasn't about to create grudges by pushing harder. Better to find someone willing, someone he could actually trust to keep things simple.
When it came to Chen Yao, the man had accepted almost immediately. "One more won't hurt," he'd said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. When he learned Su Yan was a Spirit Master, he'd even offered a single silver coin—more a gesture of respect than real pay—if Su Yan agreed to lend a hand if trouble found them.
Su Yan was just letting himself sink into the wagon's rhythm again when he noticed a man and a woman drifting closer along the side of the middle wagon. Their steps matched the oxen's plodding pace, unhurried but purposeful. The man spoke first.
"Greetings. I'm Zhao Wei—captain of the escort team."
He nodded to the woman beside him.
"And this is my sister, Zhao Ning. Vice-captain."
"Uncle Chen said a Spirit Master was riding with us, so I came to hear what you can do if something happens." Zhao Wei's eyes flicked over Su Yan once. "Though I'll admit… if he hadn't told us, I wouldn't have guessed. You're younger than most Spirit Masters I've met."
Zhao Ning lightly rapped her knuckles against her brother's arm.
"Brother. Don't say it like that. That sounds rude."
Zhao Wei scratched the back of his head, reconsidering his words, then gave a small laugh.
"Ha… sorry. I wasn't doubting you. I was just surprised, that's all."
Zhao Ning sighed and stepped in.
"Sorry. My brother's mouth runs ahead of his brain sometimes."
Then her tone turned practical.
"But we do need to know what you can do. We're not expecting trouble—this route's been quiet all year—but you can't be careless on the road."
Su Yan straightened a little, glad to finally have something to do besides rattle around on the wagon.
"I'm a one-ring defensive Spirit Master," he said.
Then he summoned his Martial Soul for them to see. "My Martial Soul is called Gatekeeper."
"As for my skill, I can make barriers and move them around from a distance. I can also attack by driving the barrier forward and smashing an opponent."
Zhao Wei's brows lifted slightly, and Zhao Ning gave a small nod as if filing the information away.
"That will be useful," Zhao Ning said. "If we're attacked, we'll bring the others and Uncle Chen toward the middle wagon. You stay here and keep them covered with your barriers while we deal with the threat."
Zhao Wei glanced at his sister, then back to Su Yan, the earlier awkwardness gone. "If you see something big moving in, call it out."
"Will do," Su Yan replied.
After he agreed, some of the severity drained from Zhao Ning's face.
"Alright. Serious talk's done," she said, curiosity creeping in. "What's it like—being a Spirit Master?"
She jerked her chin toward her brother. "My brother and I wanted to be Spirit Masters so badly when we were younger, but like many others… no luck."
There was a hint of resignation in her voice.
"Cheer up, Sis. It's not so bad." Zhao Wei shrugged. "We travel around, see different places, meet all kinds of people. Camp under the stars. What's not to like?"
Zhao Ning gave him a deadpan stare.
"Yeah… it's great meeting people. Except the clingy ones." She exhaled through her nose. "That one merchant headed for Star Dou wouldn't stop hovering around me the whole trip. Flirting isn't the problem."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Not taking a hint is. And when you're being paid to escort the caravan, you can't exactly storm off and leave your post."
She paused, then added, irritation sharpening. "It wouldn't have been half as bad if he wasn't terrible at it."
Su Yan glanced at Zhao Ning, and it wasn't hard to see why she drew attention. A well-trained physique, sun-kissed skin, and black hair tied up in a high ponytail. Even without trying, she carried a steady, valiant air.
"You're… honestly quite pretty," Su Yan said. "So I get why people notice you."
Zhao Ning blinked, then smiled and pinched his cheeks.
"Well, aren't you a little sweet-talker?" she said, laughing. "But big sis is too old for you—I'm afraid I'll have to break your heart."
Su Yan stared at her for a moment, then snorted and started laughing. Zhao Ning broke into laughter with him, and even Zhao Wei's mouth twitched as he looked away.
"Ah… I needed that," Su Yan admitted. "The trip's been too dull so far."
Zhao Wei cut in from the side.
"Dull is good. It's been like this all year—fewer injuries, and no risk of death." He nodded toward the front wagons. "Uncle Chen's fair with his pay, too. You wouldn't believe the excuses some merchants come up with."
He paused, then added, as if recalling something unpleasant. "One time a merchant tried to claim that because the trip was 'safe,' he didn't have to pay us in full. Paid half and left."
"What happened to him?" Su Yan asked.
Zhao Wei's expression stayed flat. "Merchants live on reputation. Once word spread he'd shortchanged an escort team, most guard groups refused to work with him. He came crawling back later, offering almost twice the original pay to make it go away."
Zhao Wei snorted softly. "It didn't help."
The three kept chatting as the caravan rolled on. After a short break by the roadside, the sky began to turn orange as the sun dipped toward the horizon and the shadows along the treeline grew longer.
Then the oxen started to behave oddly. The lead ox refused to move forward, digging in its hooves, bracing hard and straining against the yoke while the driver tried to coax it on.
Zhao Ning and Zhao Wei saw it at the same time. Their chatter died instantly. With a few sharp gestures, they signalled the other guards to stay alert as they moved toward the front.
"Uncle Chen, what's wrong?"
Chen Yao kept a firm hold near the ox's head, murmuring low as the ox snorted and tried to backstep. "Not sure," he replied. "Something's got Old Yellow spooked."
Zhao Wei and Zhao Ning exchanged a quick look—confirmation without needing words. Then Zhao Wei raised his voice.
"Everyone, form up! Noncombatants to the middle wagon!"
The caravan tightened in on itself as people moved, boots thudding in the dirt, harnesses creaking as the oxen were steadied.
Su Yan kept his eyes peeled, tension prickling at the back of his neck. Beyond the shuffle of people, he could hear it—movement in the surrounding undergrowth.
From the brush ahead, six wolves, snarling and snapping, slowly made their way out, spreading across the road and blocking the path forward.
Zhao Wei recognized them at once. Wind Spirit Wolves. His spear came up in an instant.
"We've got a pack of Wind Spirit Wolves!"
"Shun! Tie! Qi! To the front, now!"
Looking toward the rear, Zhao Ning's eyes widened as four more wolves slipped out behind them, cutting off the road.
"Brother—four more to the rear!"
Already moving, she shouted again over her shoulder, "Stay forward! I'll take care of it!"
As she rushed past the middle wagon, she snapped another order.
"Fang! With me, to the rear!"
As she rushed past, Su Yan kept his focus. It looked like all the wolves had shown themselves… but he could still hear it—heavy, rhythmic thudding that didn't match the frantic beating of blood in his ears.
Something big. Closing fast.
Then the rhythm skipped. A sharp, forceful impact—like something had kicked off the ground.
Su Yan snapped his gaze to the rear, to where Zhao Ning had just reached the line, and activated his first Soul Skill.
"BASTION!"
A gold barrier appeared in mid-air between Zhao Ning and the shadow that sprang from the brush, jaws wide, mid-pounce.
The beast's paws slammed into the barrier, stopping its momentum dead. The glow of the barrier lit it up—an abnormally large wolf, nearly the size of one of the oxen. Silver-white fur. Blue eyes burning with aggression. And jutting from its brow, a single jagged horn as long as a blade.
Its muscles rippled as it gathered itself, then it sprang off the barrier. Fine cracks spiderwebbed across Bastion's surface as the wolf kicked away and landed back near the treeline.
Zhao Ning's breathing quickened, a cold sweat prickling at her neck at how close she'd been to death, but she forced it down and refocused. Turning back to the rear wolves, she snapped out an order.
"Su Yan—keep that thing off us!"
Su Yan kept his eyes on the creature. It looked like the others, but the horn was wrong. None of the pack had anything like it.
In the fading light, the horn held a dim green glow.
The beast stared back at him for a heartbeat, then huffed through its nostrils. Instead of charging again, it turned sideways to the caravan and began to pace in a slow circle.
Steel rang out at the front, and snarls erupted behind. Even as the sounds of fighting rose on both ends of the line, Su Yan didn't take his eyes off the Soul Beast.
There was an unmistakable spark of intelligence in the Soul Beast's eyes. As it paced, its horn began to glow brighter—subtle, easy to miss in the fading light, but Su Yan caught it.
The wolf sped up. A slow jog became a run, then a sprint.
Su Yan wasn't prepared. He didn't turn fast enough before the horn flared an intense green and the beast swung its head.
A slash of wind shot free—thin, fast, and screaming toward the centre of the caravan.
Su Yan reacted on instinct.
"BASTION!"
A gold barrier flashed into existence between the wind blade and the people clustered around the middle wagon. The wind slammed into it with a shriek, whipping up a gust that buffeted cloaks and stung eyes.
For a few heartbeats, the barrier held—then cracks raced across its surface. With a sharp, crisp snap, the wind blade punched through.
It had lost most of its cohesion by then. The remaining edge only carved shallow cuts into the flank of one of the oxen instead of cleaving deep.
Su Yan's brows furrowed. In his haste, he hadn't configured Bastion the best way to counter wind.
The Soul Beast slowed, seeming to register that its attack had drawn blood. It resumed its circling, horn glowing as it sent out another wind blade.
This time Su Yan was ready.
"BASTION!"
A new barrier flared into place—wind-aligned, its surface tinted green. The incoming slash struck and dispersed, breaking apart into harmless gusts.
For the first time, the wolf hesitated, a flicker of confusion in its gaze. Then it pressed the attack anyway, firing again and again in short bursts. Even a properly aligned barrier still wasn't invincible; after several hits, cracks spread across it, and it finally shattered.
The wolf took that as an opening, circling tighter—closer, more aggressive.
Su Yan didn't panic. He brought up a second barrier and started managing them as a pair, feeding Spirit Power into whichever one was taking pressure. When one caught a hit and crackled with strain, he rotated it aside and slid the other into place, using the brief lull between shots to shore up the cracks before the next wind blade arrived.
This continued for a time, the fight settling into a tense stalemate. The wolf would send a wind blade—sometimes at the guards, sometimes at the cluster around the middle wagon—but Su Yan managed to block each one.
Once, it changed tactics and lunged in again.
Su Yan reacted instantly, shifting Bastion back to a gold, physical configuration and snapping it into the wolf's path. He caught the leap before it reached its apex, forcing the beast to slam down hard and skid in the dirt.
After that, it abandoned the pouncing and returned to the wind blades, circling with that same patient, intelligent focus.
While the beast also seemed to be tiring, Su Yan was starting to feel the strain too. This couldn't continue.
When the wolf fired another wind blade, Su Yan finally saw the pattern. After every shot, the horn dimmed sharply, and there was always a short delay before it could flare again.
That was his window.
He waited. The wolf fired. The barrier took the slash—and in the heartbeat after, while the horn dulled, Su Yan moved.
He thrust both hands out, one toward the front and one toward the rear, and poured Spirit Power into his Soul Skill. His two existing barriers dispersed into motes of light as he formed two new ones overhead—one above the front cluster of wolves, one above the rear. The shift cost him almost all the Spirit Power he had left.
Then he dragged both hands down.
The barriers dropped like falling slabs, slamming into the pack. Three wolves at the front were crushed into the dirt with yelps, and two at the rear went down hard, tumbling over each other.
The alpha snapped its head toward him, alarm flaring in its eyes. It threw a rushed, barely formed wind blade at Su Yan.
Su Yan moved a barrier on instinct and caught it—just in time. The movement made his vision swim, black spots dancing at the edges.
Breathing ragged, he forced his focus forward and back, reading the battlefield through the blur. At the front, the wolves were panting hard now, blood dripping in thin lines. The three he'd struck looked worse, shoulders hunched and voices dropping into low whimpers.
At the rear, one of the wolves had it even worse. It kept one leg off the ground as it limped away, trembling, unsteady—like it might collapse at any moment.
When Su Yan refocused on the alpha, it was breathing almost as hard as he was. Its blue eyes flicked toward the injured pack, and something in its posture shifted as if a decision had been made.
It drew in a deep breath and howled up at the darkening sky. The sound cut through the road like a command. One by one, the wolves began to back off, snarls fading into wary retreats.
The guards—bloodied and tense—kept their spears raised, ready for the pack to surge again. But it didn't.
The wolves limped back into the forest. The alpha stayed until the last of them slipped beneath the trees, then turned and vanished into the shadows after its pack.
When the final rustle faded and the ordinary sounds of the wild returned, Su Yan's legs finally gave out. He collapsed—vision tunnelling—and blacked out.