Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 198 - 9_1

Chapter 198: Chapter 9_1

The original food of these Mutated Wind Hounds was the corpses of the fallen Demon Clan, who had died in poverty and starvation. Although the flesh of these corpses were frozen hard by the night wind, they were certainly softer and more flavorful compared to the bodies of other unusual magical beasts. The reason these Wind Hounds didn’t hunt live prey was purely because their individual and collective combat abilities were too weak. Moreover, they were innately sensitive and suspicious, hence they only fed off others’ kills.

After getting used to feeding on the bodies of the Demon Clan, these Wind Hounds started accurately detecting which nearby demons were on the verge of death. They even began to boldly attack some of the desperate demons who were on their last breaths.

Hence, unfortunately, Bauman happened to turn into their target this time.

Anyone else might have dismissed the green lights as ghostly cold flames. But Bauman was different. Even though her vision was not very good, she had witnessed scenes where the Wind Hounds dragged away living Demon Clan vagabonds who were still breathing.

These Wind Hounds may seem insignificant to others, but to those who have lost all magic or physical strength and are on the verge of death, they are unstoppable executioners. The Wind Hounds managed to acquire such opportunities due to the deliberate neglect of some lower class residents within the Demon Clan towns. Most of these residents held roles such as overseers of shelters.

Refugee shelters were usually established by nobles, but not even the prestigious silver-eyed lords, their family members, or their followers would devote 24 hours to the operations of the shelters. Most shelters were managed by local unemployed people. The nobles only had to pay their wages regularly and provide daily necessities.

So, whilst the overseers didn’t exert much effort, if someone wasn’t satisfied with sharing the same food as the refugees, they would find ways to embezzle and sell the supplies of the shelter, and the refugees’ living conditions would be dire. When deaths occurred under such circumstances, disposing of the bodies without anyone taking notice became a problem for the overseers.

The appearance of the Wind Hounds curiously solved the problems of both parties. The overseers embezzled, the refugees lost their lives, and the Wind Hounds took care of the rest. This perfect system made the lives of the overseers much easier and nurtured the Wind Hounds’ bad habit of eating demons specifically.

Among the refugees, those who were disobedient were either thrown out to be fed to the Wind Hounds or forced to watch the Wind Hounds’ "hunting" scenes in their entirety. When Bauman was younger and weak, she often received various punishments for her slowness, even though she did not actively disobey the overseers’ orders. Punishments included watching Wind Hounds eat people.

Bauman had been threatened more than once that if she continued to disobey, she would be thrown out to feed the Wind Hounds. Therefore, even though a fog had risen in the forest that night, and despite her being exhausted from a long journey, she still managed to recognize the mutated magic beasts trailing behind her.

Nor could she stop at this moment. Even if her movements were slow, she had to keep going on.

While Wind Hounds typically did not bother with creatures that still possessed vitality, if someone was nearing death, they would directly pounce and tear them apart. Given Bauman’s remaining strength, she would be no match for these creatures. Even at her fittest, she would not be able to handle a Mutated Wind Hound, let alone three that were currently desperate with hunger.

Although she hadn’t had any rest, Bauman bit her teeth and continued on with her bundle of belongings. Stepping unsteadily through the forest, her legs felt like they were filled with lead, but she had to keep moving.

Because she didn’t know if the Wind Hounds would take away everything from her the moment she stopped to rest.

The Wind Hounds with their black fur indeed only obediently followed behind Miss Lich. Occasionally, they stuck out their tongues, saliva dripping from their mouths. It was clear the Lich woman before them had become their dinner for the evening. The part to worry about was the magic that the Lich could still possibly release.

These Wind Hounds had already suffered because of this, although female Lichs seemed less powerful and their flesh was relatively tender compared to their male counterparts. If their target was not completely dead, their last suicidal magic blasts would make these Wind Hounds pay a heavy price. They had lost many of their companions to such ferocious counterattacks from the magic clan, therefore their vigilance was high.

If these Wind Hounds knew that Bauman no longer had any ability to cast spells, they would have directly pounced, seized her, and used their sharp teeth to tear through her tender neck.

Fortunately, they knew nothing, allowing for the Lich girl Bauman to have a fleeting moment of respite.

Bauman was already unable to move, but she still insisted on taking steps forward. This might not only be for her own survival. The Wind Hounds were social creatures. If she attracted some, then the number of Wind Hounds around the nearby camping adventure team was probably not small. If something unexpected happened in the camp, she might be innocent of wrongdoing, but Baojia...

In order to keep herself from stopping, Bauman resorted to many methods, even including "wasting" her own water supply to stimulate herself. In reality, this was only to stimulate her spirit by fiercely chewing on icicles.

Wind Hounds were patient animals. They could even wait for several days for a person to die. Thus, when they sensed that their cover might have been blown, they leisurely continued to follow behind Bauman, occasionally letting out a low growl or two to disturb her, all the while inspecting how close the Lich girl was to her limit.

Honestly speaking, Bauman herself didn’t even know how she had managed to travel such a long way. Logically speaking, she should have reached her limit long ago, yet every time she thought about giving up and falling to the ground waiting for death, she would always imagine scenes of Baojia and the others being attacked by these Wind Hounds without any warning.

Then Bauman would realize that her body had unexpectedly gathered a little more strength, enough to mechanically enable her to move forward, to continue forward.

The fog in the forest had unknowingly dissipated, but not for long before it gradually condensed again, then slowly vanished...

The Wind Hounds were becoming impatient, but the prey in their sights showed no signs of slowing down. Had they misjudged the situation? This creature, which looked like a female Lich, could it merely be a detestable warrior? Why else would it keep going without stopping for so long? Some of the Wind Hounds were beginning to question this, eager to see if they had indeed been wrong.

Therefore, as Bauman was struggling through the thick layer of fallen leaves, she suddenly heard footsteps behind her that were becoming more distinct and closing in rapidly. She didn’t dare to look back because some members of the Demon Clan had been bitten in the throat by Wind Hounds that had stealthily snuck up from behind while they were distracted. All she could do was keep moving forward, but soon, a creature of two to three meters long rushed in front of her, blocking her path.

"So it has come to this," Bauman thought slowly, sorrowfully, as she ceased her mechanical march. The relentless progress through the cold wind had not only drained her physical strength but also blurred her mind. Bauman was now in a daze. If not for any interruptions, she would have kept trudging along at a slow pace. But when a Wind Hound appeared in front of her barring her path, she was at a loss for what to do next.

Almost drained of all her strength, she probably couldn’t even end her own misery, let alone the fact that she was a Lich who didn’t know any magic spells and had no idea how to kill herself.

The Wind Hound in front of her was carefully using its sense of smell to gauge the situation. It needed to determine if the prey in front of it could become its food. Meanwhile, its prey suddenly started laughing.

Bauman didn’t know why she was laughing. All she knew was that she felt relaxed, be it her body or her facial muscles. With the Wind Hound in front of her closing in for exploration and the ones behind her slowly approaching, the female Lich simply chose to sit down on the ground, much to the surprise of the mutated mongrels.

They... are actually afraid of me...

But what... am I afraid of...

Death? For a Lich of the Demon Clan, death sometimes even felt like a luxury. So what else could it be?

Baojia?

There was nothing to fear about that. After all, she would probably never see him again. No more heartache from seeing him talking to this girl or that girl. Friendship ceased to exist after they parted ways in their childhood. His heroic act of saving her, and now his effort in distracting the Wind Hounds, had made up for it.

She was so tired. The moon (Xiang Pa) looked so round, so bright. The tree beside her swaying...

Wait. It wasn’t just one tree swaying, it was the entire forest. The whole forest seemed to be encircling her, spinning around, like they were dancing to a rhythmic tune. Strangely enough, this obviously illusory spectacle never seemed ridiculous to Bauman.

If the silence in the forest was described as giving the impression of many skeletal, elongating wraiths, then the forest of dancing trees in front of Bauman now seemed nothing like wraiths, nor like the Demon Clan. They were instead reminding her of the Barbarians called Beamon in the Aegean invasion myths -

Clumsy, yet filled with staggering might.

A truly strange association... Seems like she was indeed on her last legs. Bauman closed her eyes with a self-mock.

Not to give up struggling, not to stop moving, or even breathing. She just felt a desire to sing. For some reason, she felt a compulsion to sing as though notes were appearing in her head, eager to leap out from her mouth.

The moon tonight was indeed very round.

Before closing her eyes, Bauman looked up at the sky and registered a fact that she had overlooked all night long.

The night sky was pierced with an ethereal, melodious song, echoing through the shadowy forest, spreading far and wide...

"If only there was a piano now." She again didn’t know why, but Bauman had this thought popping into her mind.