Meng Ru did not go directly to the Northern Herb Garden. Time was a resource, and he would not waste it. First, he returned to his courtyard and retrieved his bag of primeval stones. He then spent a precious hour in the clan's public archive, a dusty room filled with bamboo scrolls. He was not looking for grand cultivation techniques, but for something far more practical: beast encyclopedias.
He found what he was looking for in a worn, neglected scroll. Lightning Wolves: pack hunters, led by an alpha. Possess a rudimentary Lightning Gu in their bodies, allowing them to discharge small bolts of electricity. Their weakness is their pride; they are drawn to displays of strength and will focus on the most challenging prey. Their howls are not just for communication, but to harmonize their lightning, preparing for a pack attack.
Every piece of information was a variable in his equation for survival.
As dusk began to settle, he made his way to the herb garden. It was a small, fenced-in plot of land nestled against the northern palisade, with the dark, looming forest just a stone's throw away. A single, rickety watchtower stood in the center. It was a deathtrap, designed to give a false sense of security.
Meng Ru ignored the tower. He walked the perimeter, his eyes scanning every detail. He noted the patches of soft earth, the clusters of large rocks, the direction of the wind. He was not seeing a garden; he was seeing a battlefield.
He found a narrow ravine carved by rainwater just outside the western fence. It was shallow, but deep enough to hide in. This would be his primary position. He then identified three large boulders within the garden itself. These would be his fallback points.
The sun bled below the horizon, and the world was plunged into the deep black of a moonless night. The air grew cold. Meng Ru slipped into the ravine, pressing his back against the damp earth. He activated his Stealth Rock Gu. His body shimmered and blended into the shadows and stone, his presence becoming a whisper. He controlled his breathing, slowed his heart rate, and waited.
Hours passed in absolute silence. The only sound was the rustle of leaves in the wind.
Then, a low howl echoed from the forest. It was answered by another, then a third. The Lightning Wolves were gathering.
Meng Ru's eyes, cold and sharp in the darkness, scanned the edge of the forest. He saw them, a dozen pairs of glowing yellow eyes moving through the trees. They moved with a fluid, predatory grace. At their head was a wolf larger than the rest, its fur a shade darker, its presence radiating a palpable authority. The alpha.
The pack did not rush in. They circled the garden, their movements coordinated, testing for threats. They were intelligent, cautious hunters.
Meng Ru remained perfectly still. He was just another rock in the darkness.
The alpha, sensing no immediate danger, finally gave a low growl and trotted into the garden, the pack fanning out behind it. They began to sniff around, drawn by the scent of the herbs.
This was the moment.
Meng Ru did not attack the pack. He did not attack the alpha. He focused on a lone wolf at the very edge of the pack, one that had strayed near his ravine.
He poured a significant portion of his primeval essence into his fist, the silver light contained, not released. He activated his Grasshopper Leg Gu.
In a single, explosive movement, he burst from the ravine. He covered the ten meters to the lone wolf in an instant. The wolf, startled, had no time to react.
Meng Ru's fist, coated in the dense A-grade essence, slammed into the wolf's skull.
There was a sickening crunch of bone. The wolf collapsed without a sound, its life extinguished in a single, brutally efficient strike.
Before the rest of the pack could even turn, Meng Ru used the Grasshopper Leg Gu again, leaping backward and disappearing back into the darkness of the ravine, his stealth activated once more.
The entire exchange had taken less than three breaths.
The pack froze, confused. One of their own was dead, but the attacker had vanished as quickly as he had appeared. The alpha snarled, its yellow eyes scanning the darkness, searching for the phantom that had struck from nowhere.
Meng Ru waited, his heart a steady, rhythmic drum. The first entry had been made in the wolves' ledger. He had sown confusion and fear. Now, he would wait for them to make a mistake. The night was young, and his patience was infinite.