Four weeks later...
A Shao wolf wandered through the wide-open territory, a feast of scattered prey spread across the ground before him, torn apart by the other wolves with insatiable hunger. They didn't look much different from ordinary wolves, aside from large orange patches covering their paws and forelegs, and slightly bulging bellies that looked almost like living armor.
In the middle of them stood the wolf who had just finished eating, watching in silence. He didn't need to announce himself; by Shao wolf tradition, the pack leader ate first, and once he was done, he would simply stand among the hungry wolves as a signal that the feast had begun. And this wolf was, without question, the leader of the pack.
From a distance, the scene inspired nothing but dread.
Packs of Shao wolves tore into their prey, from boars to deer, with a savage hunger, and that wolf standing at the center, the leader, seemed to stand guard over this banquet of death. The chaos, the noise, the shredded flesh... everything about it was savage down to the bone.
But on the edge of the hill, hidden among the dense shrubs, Shen Zuo watched in silence... a faint smile spreading across his face. Not mockery, but the smile of a victor who already knew their fall had begun.
And suddenly... the leader began to tremble.
Seconds later, he collapsed to the ground, his body writhing silently, then went still as stone.
The wolves froze in confusion. The eating stopped. Every one of them stared at his motionless body. And in that tense, heavy silence... others began collapsing, one after another.
In under a minute, half the pack lay on the ground, perfectly still. And the other half? They didn't fight, didn't growl. They simply fled in blind panic, as though they'd watched death itself smile at them.
Roughly half of them died, nineteen wolves out of thirty-six.
Shen Zuo's smile widened, then he turned his back and walked away quietly... as if he'd done nothing at all.
A week earlier...
Shen Zuo sat in front of the small cave, a piece of dried meat in hand, his eyes drifting toward the gray sky as if searching for something invisible. His hand moved slowly toward his mouth, eating without any real interest, as if his body was simply meeting its needs while his mind was somewhere else entirely.
Nothing could be heard except the quiet sound of chewing, and the wind sweeping harshly across the rocks.
Then, simply enough, he washed his hands clean of the food, gathered his gear with his usual quiet efficiency, and headed east, thoughts turning calmly in his head:
"Alright... I've got the rock berries. Now I just need to find a few of those cursed rot boars and get them to catch the berries' scent... they'll think I'm the source of food and chase me everywhere. Well... let's hope I actually find them, since they're rare enough as it is."
Shen Zuo walked east with slow, steady steps, his face set in focus, as if every little detail of the ground ahead of him carried meaning. He carried a light pack on his back, and in his hand, a short stick he used to push aside shrubs, check the soil, or nudge pebbles out of the way.
The first hours passed slowly as he moved between dry grass and cracked rocks. He found traces of small animals: old droppings, half-faded footprints, pecked marks on dead tree trunks, but no sign of the rot boars he was looking for.
Along the way, he spotted a few creatures. A scrawny wild rabbit, a pair of gray lizards, and a bird picking at an old carcass. He'd occasionally pause to mentally note where they'd appeared, but none of it was enough. His real target was still nowhere to be found.
Then, while crossing a sloped stretch of land, he noticed a series of small caves opening up along both sides of a valley. Noticeably cold air drifted out from them, carrying a heavy, stale dampness, the kind of scent well suited for gas traps... or low-visibility ambushes.
The area itself was ideal: the slopes forced anyone through narrow passages, and the caves provided back routes or elevated ambush points. He mentally noted his observations, stopping more than once to check wind direction and ground conditions.
The sun crossed its peak and began leaning westward. The search continued, but nothing came of it, just aching feet and a layer of dust coating his face and clothes.
By the time the sky started turning orange, Shen Zuo turned back toward home, his steps slower this time but along a shortcut. Still, he wasn't discouraged. In his head, the map kept building itself, piece by piece.
Once he reached the small cave, he sat down on a nearby rock, pulled out his map, and spread it carefully in front of him. With his charcoal pen, he began sketching in the new terrain he'd discovered: symbols for the caves, lines marking the slopes, notes on good cover spots, even small remarks about soil type and wind direction.
He finished the sketch quietly, stared at the map for a moment, then sighed and wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead, muttering in a low, flat tone:
"I'll just have to set the trap-building aside for now... until I find those damn boars."
Then he folded the paper quietly and tucked it back at his side.
...Six days passed.
Six days of continuous searching, moving between ravines and slopes, studying the ground, tracking old traces, sleeping curled up behind rocks, and eating what remained of his supplies in a silence that bordered on meditation.
The sky changed. The sun grew harsher, the wind drier. But Shen Zuo's eyes kept searching, never settling, and his patience hadn't broken yet.
Over those six days, Shen Zuo ran into a few ordinary beasts, wolves, reptiles, small hyenas. He never engaged with them directly. He simply lured them toward the traps he'd already set. Some fell and died, others fled once they sensed the danger. He handled them all calmly, as though they were nothing more than temporary obstacles along his path.
Shen Zuo kept moving through the eastern region as usual, inspecting the soil, searching for tracks, following scents. The day was scorching, the wind dry, but he didn't stop.
After hours of searching, he suddenly stopped behind a low rock, his eyes locking onto a distant spot below the slope.
Three rot boars... moving slowly, their massive bodies swaying, their cracked hides giving off a distinctly foul odor.
Shen Zuo stared at them for a moment, then smiled faintly and whispered:
"Finally..."
Shen Zuo pulled out a handful of rock berries, the rare kind that didn't grow on trees but only appeared on rocks near underground water sources, ones he'd found some time earlier while exploring the region.
He picked up one of the berries in his hand; it was hard and tough. It took considerable effort just to crush it, and once he did, a thick liquid with a sharp, piercing scent oozed out.
He crept closer to the boars, slow, calculated steps, until the scent finally reached their noses.
They lifted their heads, paused for a moment, then suddenly charged straight at him with wild force.
Shen Zuo smiled without looking back, and started running, leading them exactly where he wanted them to go.
Evening was approaching, and shadows had begun stretching across the ground behind him.
Shen Zuo had no intention of hurting them. All he wanted was to drag them toward the Shao wolf territory. They were nothing more than tools in a much larger plan.
As the boars charged after him, the chase turned westward.
The ground shook beneath their pounding feet, a light haze of dust rising up behind them.
The low, slanting rays of the sun struck Shen Zuo's face, stinging his eyes as he ran, while the enraged boars chased relentlessly behind him, catching the scent and growing wilder by the second.
Time was running short, and the west was waiting for him, where the real plan would finally begin.
The plan itself was simple, really. Rot boars were known for bodies that could withstand toxins for long stretches without breaking down, which made them perfect carriers for poison without dying too quickly.
Shen Zuo had no intention of harming them directly. He just wanted to use them as a delivery method.
He'd already prepared a small amount of the Craigar poison core's extract, and once he pulled the boars close enough to the wolves' territory, he'd feed it to them, mixed with a bit of rock berry to make the taste more palatable.
Shao wolves considered rot boar meat their absolute
favorite meal, and the moment those boars got close to their territory... the real story would begin.