The return to the Ju Tribe camp was a spectacle designed to silence doubt, but I didn't let the cheers of the mortals below go to my head.
I flew low, the Rank 2 Sky Wolf Wings humming with a soft, spectral blue light that trailed behind me like exhaust. The wind whipped at my hair, but the sensation of flight was intoxicating—a freedom that my previous life, confined to sterile hospital corridors, had never offered.
Below me, my newly acquired pack of five hundred wolves kicked up a storm of snow, a moving gray carpet that devoured the white plains. The ground trembled rhythmically under the heavy paws of the five separate Hundred Beast Kings.
To the uninitiated eye, it looked impressive—a Young Master returning with an army. But internally, I was analyzing the flaws with the cold scrutiny of a surgeon reviewing a botched operation.
Commanding five hundred beasts wasn't just about having a 30-man Soul; it was about multitasking. It felt like trying to perform five different microsurgeries simultaneously with invisible hands.
The Lightning Frenzy Wolves were twitchy, adrenaline-filled addicts that constantly wanted to break formation and run. The Water Shell Wolves were lethargic, preferring to hunker down like turtles, dragging the formation's speed. The Poison Scorpion Wolf was an introvert, constantly trying to hide in the shadows of the larger beasts, disrupting the spacing.
My soul handled the raw pressure—I didn't have the splitting headache of a novice—but my technique was sloppy. The signals I sent were jagged. The formation was elastic, stretching and breaking like cheap sutures.
I seem like a man with a sledgehammer trying to conduct an orchestra, I diagnosed grimly.
I circled the Awakening Square once, letting the shadow of my wings fall over the tents, before landing in the center. Yue Yin slipped off my waist, instantly reverting to her humble maid posture, though I felt her alertness through our connection.
The wolves circled up, snarling at the gathering crowd, their discipline hanging by a thread.
"Ju Yang!"
A sharp voice cut through the growls of the pack.
It was Ju Meng, a Rank 2 Initial Stage cousin from the powerful Mo branch family.
He stood there with his own pack. He possessed only fifty wolves—a tenth of my number—but they were all elite Steel-Back Wolves. Unlike my chaotic menagerie, his wolves stood in absolute, statue-like stillness. They breathed in unison. Their metallic fur gleamed like polished armor. They were not a pack; they were a unit.
Ju Meng stepped forward, his hand resting on his sword hilt. His eyes were filled with the cold calculation of a veteran who despised unearned privilege.
"You bought these beasts with the Clan's money,!?" Ju Meng stated, his voice projecting clearly over the murmurs of the crowd. He pointed an accusatory finger at my chaotic formation. "Look at them. They are tripping over each other. A rich boy can buy a sword, but can he swing it?"
He glared at me.
"The Vanguard Commander position against the Hei Tribe is not a toy for children. If you lead us into the Ice River Valley with this messy control, you will get our men butchered. I challenge you."
The crowd quieted down. The Northern Plains respected strength above all. Money could buy resources, but it couldn't buy respect. If I refused, my reputation as the "Dragon Son" would be stained with cowardice.
I deactivated my wings, the spectral light fading, and stepped off the back of the Water Shell Wolf King.
"You want my position, Cousin?" I asked calmly, dusting snow from my silver robes. "Fine. Ambition is good. But a challenge requires a bet. I have five hundred wolves and the Clan Leader's mandate. What do you have that is worth my time?"
Ju Meng sneered, confident in his superior technique. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a Gu worm.
It hovered in his palm—a flat, bronze plate about the size of a dinner plate, with intricate spinning gears and topographical lines carved into its surface. It hummed with a low, tactical resonance.
Rank 2 Battle Disk Gu.
My Dog Shit Luck Gu in my aperture suddenly buzzed.
Opportunity.
"This is the heirloom of the Mo branch," Ju Meng announced, holding it high. "It allows a Gu Master to visualize the battlefield and coordinate wolf movements as if they were a single limb. It is the only Rank 2 Battle Disk in the tribe as it is a rare gu. If I lose, it is yours. If you lose, you surrender the Vanguard Token and your new wolf pack to me."
I looked at the Gu. It was exactly what I needed—the software to run my hardware.
"Deal," I said instantly.
The Duel
The crowd retreated, forming a wide circle in the snow.
"Begin!" the referee Elder shouted.
Ju Meng didn't yell. He didn't wave his arms. He simply poured primeval essence into the Battle Disk Gu hovering in front of his chest.
His fifty Steel-Back Wolves moved instantly. It was beautiful to watch. They didn't charge; they shifted. The front row lowered their heads to form a shield wall. The back row leaped onto the shoulders of the front row.
They formed a Wolf Phalanx. A solid wedge of muscle and iron.
"Charge," Ju Meng whispered.
They moved as one block.
"Attack!" I commanded, pushing my will through my soul connection.
My pack was ten times larger. My five Beast Kings roared and charged. But it was a mess.
The Lightning Frenzy Wolves, faster than the rest, surged forward, breaking the line. They hit the enemy first—alone.
CRUNCH.
Ju Meng's phalanx absorbed the impact. Their steel backs deflected the lightning claws. Then, moving like a machine, the phalanx snapped. Fifty mouths bit down at once.
Yelp.
My leading Lightning Wolf King stumbled back, bleeding from a dozen wounds. The Steel-Backs held their line, pushing forward like a grinder.
"Clumsy!" Ju Meng laughed, his eyes glued to the spinning gears of his Battle Disk. "You have no coordination! Look at your lines! They are tripping over each other!"
He was right. I was overwhelmed. The sensory input from five hundred minds was a chaotic storm. Pain from the Lightning Wolves, confusion from the Water Wolves, fear from the Scorpion Wolf.
I was reacting, not leading. I was losing.
Calm down, I told myself, forcing my heart rate to drop. Stop fighting like a beast tamer. This isn't a brawl. This isn't coordinated .
This should work like a body .
A nervous system doesn't send signals to every cell individually. It sends signals to muscle groups.
I pulled back my consciousness, zooming out. I stopped trying to control every paw step and started grouping them into biological functions.
"Water Wolves... you are the Ribcage. Center! Tank the hit!" I commanded, slamming my will into them as a collective unit.
My Water Shell Wolf King howled. The hundred water wolves behind him hunkered down, their shells glowing with blue water-barriers.
BOOM!
Ju Meng's steel wedge slammed into my water wall. The impact shook the ground. My wolves groaned under the pressure, shells cracking, but the mass was too great. They held.
Ju Meng's pack was stuck, grinding against my defense like a drill hitting a steel plate.
"Now," I whispered. "The Pincer."
I split my mind into two hemispheres.
Left Hemisphere: Guide the Lightning Wolves in a wide arc to the right. You are the Right Hand.
Right Hemisphere: Guide the Poison Scorpion Wolf through the shadows on the left. You are the Scalpel.
Ju Meng saw the Lightning Wolves flanking. He frantically tried to rotate the dial on his Battle Disk. "Left flank! Defend!"
But there was a lag. His control was perfect, but his soul was only a standard 10-man Soul. He couldn't process the sudden shift in geometry of their movements fast enough.
The Lightning Wolves crashed into his exposed side. Electricity arced through his tight formation, shocking the Steel-Backs, disrupting their coordination.
And while he was panicked by the lightning, the Poison Scorpion Wolf King—which I had kept low to the ground, hidden behind the bulk of the Water Wolves—slithered behind him.
It didn't attack the wolves. It leaped at Ju Meng.
"What?!" Ju Meng gasped.
The Scorpion Wolf didn't bite him. It landed on his chest, pinning him to the ground. Its tail, dripping with toxin, hovered inches next to his left eye.
The Battle Disk Gu fell from his hand into the snow.
His wolves, sensing their master's defeat, lost their order. His army collapsed.
The square went silent.
I stood amidst my chaotic, panting pack. I was sweating profusely, my head pounding from the mental exertion. It wasn't a clean win. It was messy, brutal, and relied on overwhelming force. But I had learned more about command in these five minutes than before.
"Formation requires fluidity," I said, walking over to Ju Meng. "Your phalanx was strong, Cousin. But once you committed a mistake , you couldn't turn around."
I signaled the Scorpion Wolf to back down.
"I yield," Ju Meng gasped, his face pale.
I picked up the Battle Disk Gu from the snow. It was warm to the touch.
I sat down right there in the square and refined it. With my Rank 2 essence and 30-man Soul and his cooperation, it took only 15 minutes .
When I activated it, the world changed.
A spectral projection of the surrounding terrain appeared in my mind's eye. The wolves appeared as dots of light—Blue for Water, Yellow for Lightning, Green for Poison. The Battle Disk acted as a switchboard, organizing the sensory noise into clean data streams.
"Much better," I exhaled. The headache vanished.
I looked down at Ju Meng, who was collecting his wolves, looking defeated and humiliated.
"Ju Meng," I said.
He flinched. "You won, Ju Yang. You can have the token. Mock me if it makes you feel good."
"Your control is excellent," I said, offering him a hand up. "But your soul is weak. You cannot handle the flexibility required for a mixed pack."
I pointed to my Water Shell Wolf King. I had two of them.
"I don't need two defensive Kings. I have too much defense and not enough piercing power."
I looked at his Steel-Back Wolf . It was a magnificent beast, its fur like chainmail.
"I have a proposal. I will trade you one pack of Water Shell Wolf with its hundred beast king for one of your clans Steel-Back Wolf packs and its hundred beast king."
Ju Meng blinked, confused by the generosity. A Steel-Back King was valuable, but a Water Shell King was rarer in the Northern Plains. "The water shelled Wolf has higher defense... why would you trade down?"
"Because I need a spear tip," I said, looking at the Battle Disk projection in my mind. "My formation is soft. I need iron at the front."
We made the trade after going to mo family branch. The crowd watched in awe—not just at my victory, but at my magnanimity.
Now, my pack was balanced:
* 2x Lightning Frenzy (Flank/Speed)
* 1x Water Shell (Shield/Tank)
* 1x Poison Scorpion (Assassin/Stealth)
* 1x Steel-Back (Vanguard/Phalanx)
I looked at the formation on the Battle Disk. It was no longer a mob. It was a machine.
"Yue," I signaled my maid, who was waiting by the edge of the square, a faint smile on her lips. "We are leaving."
"The war?" she asked.
"Not yet," I said, mounting the new Steel-Back King. The metal fur was cold and hard, stable as a rock. "I need to test this new formation in blood. And I need to increase them if needed."