Chapter Seven: The Mad Dog’s Calamity

Compared to the wild, vicious nature of a beast, it was more the cunning of the Mad Hound Kaplan that plunged us into grave danger.

This giant dog, though powerfully built, seldom launched direct assaults on us. Instead, it repeatedly used the trees of the forest to rebound, darting with swift aerial turns to harass our weaker points. Its tactics yielded astonishing results: apart from Niu Million's initial surprise attack, we had yet to inflict any truly threatening injury upon it, while under its fierce and unpredictable onslaught, the three of us were soon covered in wounds.

"This can't go on!" Shielding my vital spots, I seized a chance to survey the surroundings. To our left was a relatively open forest clearing. In the southwest corner of the clearing lounged a few level-five wild dogs, but experience had taught me that as long as we kept our distance, no matter how intense our struggle, they would not be disturbed.

"Run that way!" Having made my decision, I spun around, pushed Elegant Song behind me, and shouted at him, pointing toward the clearing. Though he was the highest-level among us, as an elven ranger his physique was far more delicate, clad only in lightweight leather armor—our weakest link in defense.

Elegant Song responded immediately, dashing toward the indicated spot. Seeing its prey about to escape, the Mad Hound Kaplan roared and lunged forward in pursuit, but Niu Million and I joined forces to block its path.

With our elven companion temporarily out of the trap, Niu Million quickly unleashed his War Stomp—a technique he's well-practiced in when it comes to retreating, shameful as it is for a member of his race. Taking advantage as the fierce beast struggled to reach full speed, we seized the moment to withdraw, making our way to the northeast side of the clearing.

The Mad Hound Kaplan pursued us relentlessly. Possessing a stamina unmatched by its kin, it closed the gap in just a few breaths. Had we not been prepared, it would have scattered us with a single leap.

As it turned out, we had chosen our battlefield wisely. In this relatively open space, there were not so many trees for the hound to use as springboards for its acrobatic attacks. Though its ferocity and power remained formidable, and its claws and fangs devastating, its movements were now forced into predictable, linear charges. This allowed us to set up more effective defenses along its attack lines and made our counterattacks possible.

"Clang!" I used my "Block" skill to intercept Kaplan's pounce, and my longsword slid in for a slanting thrust, dealing 25 points of damage. This meager wound posed no real threat—less, in fact, than the vitality I lost from the shock of blocking its blow. But crucially, I slowed its momentum, buying my companions precious moments to retaliate.

No sooner did Kaplan land than Niu Million's massive wooden club came swinging in. Though agile, the wild hound twisted away from a fatal blow, but still took a heavy strike across its back. This was no minor injury; it sent the beast into a frenzy, snapping at Niu Million's throat. The minotaur, slow to react, had no time to dodge...

An arrow, sharp as a viper's tongue, flew from almost point-blank range, aiming for Kaplan's belly. The cunning shot not only drove the beast back and spared our warrior serious harm, but also cost Kaplan 67 health points. As the giant hound bellowed in rage, Elegant Song stood poised behind us, bow drawn, ready for the next volley.

Though we had only just met, though we were all still awkward novices, and our shared successes amounted to mere simple hunts, our time together had bred a subtle understanding among the three of us, forming basic but effective teamwork. For instance, right now, I used my shield and armor to absorb Kaplan's attacks and slow it down; Niu Million, under less defensive pressure, focused on offense; our combined presence shielded Elegant Song, allowing him to get as close as possible to the quarry and unleash his, albeit clumsy but powerful, archery. I suspect he might be the closest any ranger has ever stood to their prey—almost using bow and arrow as a dagger, assassinating like a rogue.

Our coordination was crude, often marred by errors, yet against a foe like the Mad Hound Kaplan, it worked remarkably well. Attack, repulse, attack again, repulse again—repeating this three or four times, Kaplan's health had already dropped to a quarter, while we remained relatively unscathed, thanks to Niu Million's ample supply of healing potions.

"Push a bit harder, it's almost done for!" Watching the silver-furred wild dog leader falter, I couldn't help but shout in excitement.

"Steady now, don't get ahead of yourself. As the Father of the Nation said: 'The revolution has yet to succeed, comrades must persevere.'" Within three steps, Elegant Song's marksmanship was truly reliable—not only more accurate, but also more damaging than most peers of his level, mainly because few others let their foes get so close. He shot an arrow into Kaplan's hind leg and replied to me, his scholarly words sounding more like smug boasting, as if he'd already slain the beast.

Just as we thought victory was in hand and were ready to celebrate, the Mad Hound Kaplan suddenly ceased its assault. It retreated a few paces, glared at us menacingly, then threw back its head and howled. The sound was wild and piercing, with a chilling undertone that sent shivers down the spine.

"Is that a wolf's howl or a dog's bark? It gives me the creeps..." Niu Million shuddered, neck drawn in, and muttered, "I have a bad feeling about this..."

"More than its lineage..." Elegant Song frowned, clearly uneasy, "...I suddenly think we've been overlooking a more important problem..."

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

"Why is it called 'Leader'?" Elegant Song's face suddenly went pale.

It was a crucial question, and as it happened, we had just learned the answer.

At Kaplan's summons, the wild dogs roaming the area began to gather. A quick count revealed fourteen or fifteen, all roughly level five or six. These beasts clustered around the silver-furred leader, eyeing us with undisguised hostility.

So, the so-called "Leader" meant one that could rally and command its followers.

At that moment, Kaplan stopped its howling and, as if issuing an order, barked at the pack. Instantly, the wild dogs snarled and charged toward us.

The three of us froze, then exchanged a glance of perfect understanding, and shouted in unison:

"Run!"

The three of us—tall, short, fat, and thin, the Dog-Slaying Trio—turned and bolted together. If anyone had been watching from the sidelines, they would have witnessed a grand spectacle: three desperate fugitives, trailed by a long line of savage wild dogs, churning up a thick cloud of dust, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake.

"They're gaining on us!" Niu Million glanced back, his voice rising in panic.

"Of course they are—wild dogs are faster than we are," I replied.

"Damn it, why do I always end up being chased and bitten when I'm with you?"

"Don't blame me—the first time, that mob of hens was your fault!"

"If only we hadn't gone after this big guy, none of this would have happened!"

"And who was it earlier who thought the big guy looked easy to handle and was yelling to take him down?" Elegant Song curled his lip in disdain.

"I was trying to boost morale! Wait, you two—wait for me, I'm... I'm not fast!"

"Then stay behind and be the main course—a nice roast beef for the dogs. Once they're full, they'll leave us alone!"

"Ah, you heartless brutes..."

"I'm an elf, not human—save your words for him... Ouch..."

As an elf, Elegant Song should have been the nimblest among us, but his poor eyesight slowed him down. The forest, with its tangled trees and thick branches, proved his greatest adversary. The trees, indifferent to his kinship with the goddess of nature, offered him no special favor. As he ran, cries of "Ouch!" and "Ow!" rang out, and his handsome face was scratched bloody by rough branches, leaving him the most bedraggled of us all.

Rounding a bend, the wild dogs were less than four strides behind. Suddenly, Elegant Song tripped over a thick root and tumbled headfirst into a hollow tree nearby.

We heard his cry and tried to double back and help, but it was too late. The wild dogs surrounded the tree hollow instantly. A shrill, commanding howl rang out, and at its sound, the pack fell silent, crouching in fear. Soon, the silver-furred Mad Hound Kaplan strode from their ranks to the tree hollow.

The wild dog leader glared into the hollow with bloodshot eyes, then seemed to grow angry, growling in frustration, circling the tree, and barking irritably at its followers.

"What is it doing?" Fortunately, the dogs' focus on Elegant Song gave us time to patch our wounds. Hidden in the shrubs, I watched, perplexed. "It doesn't seem happy."

"Who knows, maybe it's not satisfied with its catch," Niu Million peered nervously from behind a thick trunk. "Maybe the elf's too skinny for their tastes—skin and bones, might crack their teeth, barely any meat, and you could choke on the bones..." He glanced at his own burly frame and quipped, "If it were me in there, maybe they'd have more appetite..."

To be honest, Niu Million's attitude baffled me: his courage was in no way proportional to his size. Sometimes I wondered if he embodied all the cowardice of his race. Yet, after our brush with death, while my legs still trembled with fear, he was already joking about his own demise, as if our life-or-death escape had been nothing more than a game.

Similarly, for one so averse to conflict, he was still willing to risk his life to stay and watch over our elven friend—an act of loyalty, perhaps. Yet he showed no concern or worry for Elegant Song's fate, instead watching the impending tragedy with idle amusement, as if proving his cold-bloodedness.

These contradictions coexisted in this horned warrior, whose gentle nature was paired with a strange, passionate optimism—or perhaps callous indifference—towards life. He seemed utterly unaffected by death—neither shunning nor fearing it.

Can you imagine? Someone who fears pain, itches, falls, wounds, blood, battle, and enemies, but not death itself. I thought the silent soil of the grave, symbolizing eternal oblivion, was the one thing in this world truly worth fearing.

Not just him; Elegant Song was the same. In fact, every "Voidwalker" I've met is like this. Whether boisterous northern barbarians, aloof high elves, friendly mountain gnomes, or solitary blue-skinned trolls—anyone born with the ability to walk the shifting planes seems never to take death too seriously. Their favorite saying: "Let's fight! Worst that happens, we die and start over!"

Die and start over?

That doesn't quite align with my understanding of death.

Perhaps that's the fundamental difference between us: traversing the boundless cosmos has given these gifted souls a deeper grasp of the spirit, making them more at ease with death—be it their own or another's.

Perhaps for Niu Million and Elegant Song, death was never a serious matter, but losing a companion with whom I'd fought side by side still filled me with sorrow. Yet, to my delight, it seemed that loss would not come to pass.

As it happened, the hollow was extremely narrow, with two fallen trunks blocking the entrance; the actual opening was barely wide enough for anything to pass through. In ordinary circumstances, neither man nor dog could squeeze inside. Only the momentum of Elegant Song's fall had wedged him in—a stroke of luck.

Now, the Mad Hound Kaplan and its summoned beasts were stymied by the narrow entrance. The silver giant prowled about, scratching fruitlessly at the logs but unable to make a gap wide enough to enter.

"Elegant Song, are you all right?" I called out from a distance.

"Hahaha... Don't worry, I'm fine—very fine! Hahaha, they can't get in..." His triumphant laughter echoed from the hollow, his mood transformed from the despairing cries he'd made when first tumbling in.

Kaplan crouched at the entrance, clawing desperately inward, but always just a little too short. We could hear the elven ranger taunting from inside, "Come and get me! Bite me! Eat me! Haha, you can't reach me, you can't!"

It turned out that even elves, famed for their composure, can be overcome by the thrill of luck. Overexcited, Elegant Song did something staggeringly foolish. He deftly pulled down his trousers and presented his pale backside to Kaplan, waggling provocatively—a traditional gesture of mockery among the Northwestern Highlanders.

Unfortunately, he forgot the hollow was cramped. As he performed this ritual, his body edged closer to the opening.

Kaplan did not miss the chance. With a sudden lunge, it swiped with its right paw...

"Ah!" came the expected, agonized shriek from within.

"Hey..." I called, more amused than concerned, "Are you okay?"

"Owww... I'm... I'm all right..." After a moment, Elegant Song replied, voice muffled. Clutching his wounded pride, his cheeks flushed red—whether from pain or embarrassment, it was hard to say. Chastened, he gave up all thoughts of further provocation.

Through the hollow, we saw him gesture upward. "The tree is hollow inside," he called, "and there's a ladder—I’ll climb up and see."

With that, he scrambled upward and soon vanished from view. Moments later, he emerged from a hole at the top of the tree, leaves sticking to his hair. The wild dogs below barked furiously at his appearance.

Even now, surrounded by ferocious beasts, Elegant Song's spirit remained unbroken, even to the point where his exuberance had cost him dearly. Yet, as soon as he climbed out, his demeanor changed utterly: clinging to the trunk, he peered out with trembling caution, then quickly ducked back, both arms locked about the tree, his face pale.

We hadn't yet noticed the change in his behavior. Niu Million and I shouted, "Elegant Song, shoot from the tree! Shoot those wild dogs—kill them all!"

But Elegant Song was even more terrified now than when he’d been chased. His lips quivered, bow hand cramped with nerves, and when he tried to nock an arrow, a light breeze startled him so much he yelped and dropped the arrow, clutching the trunk for dear life.

"You idiot, what on earth are you doing up there?" Niu Million finally snapped, exasperated.

"I..." Elegant Song's voice was almost in tears, "I'm scared, I... I have acrophobia..."

It was the first I'd heard of such a malady: when trapped at a height, an unfortunate soul might feel dizzy, hands and feet cold, nausea, even fainting.

Now, this poor elf clung to the tree, shaking as if in a fever. Below, a pack of hungry wild dogs waited, gazing up with greedy anticipation, as if expecting a feast to fall into their laps.

Judging by Elegant Song’s near-fainting state, their hopes for a windfall might not be entirely unfounded.

Just then, inspiration struck me, and I shouted,

"I have an idea!"