Chapter Fifty-Five: Wolf of War (Part Two)

“So the Commander isn’t just adept with fists and blades—even his skill with bows and crossbows is unmatched. How laughable; back then, I still harbored some foolish hopes.”
Zhang Wujia glanced at him and shook his head in self-mockery. “If anything happens to me this time, I beg you, Commander, for the sake of our camaraderie as fellow soldiers, at least let my daughter live.”
Before Liu Ji could respond, Zhang Wujia waved to several men. “Old Wu, Old Shi, Fourth Kang, Chen Jin, follow me.”
Those he summoned were all towering figures, broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, each holding a great unfamiliar blade. Seeing them preparing to step outside the defensive circle, Liu Ji was startled and hurried forward to stop them.
“Are you mad? Are you going to throw your lives away?”
Zhang Wujia shook his head, gesturing toward the wolves gathering in the distance. “These beasts are cunning. They won’t attack in broad daylight. We’ve trespassed into their territory, so it’s a fight to the death. They can confront us for days and nights without rest—can we do the same? The only way is to strike first. If we kill one or two, the rest will attack us relentlessly.”
Liu Ji understood. In his past life, he’d heard that these snow wolves were nocturnal, rarely seen in daylight. That they appeared now meant only one thing:
They’d lost their source of food.
Zhang Wujia was right. These were hungry wolves defending their territory; there was no path but battle. If dragged into the night, Liu Ji dared not imagine the outcome.
“No one’s allowed to go! That’s an order!”
Liu Ji barked a stern command, but he himself stripped off his boots and, using a cloth strip, wrapped his feet clad only in linen socks tightly. His actions bewildered the others; in this weather, bare feet would numb quickly and freeze off entirely.
What was the Commander planning?
Once his feet were wrapped, he did something even more surprising—he removed his long fur coat and stuffed it into Zhang Wujia’s hands.
“Be ready to cover me.”
Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed his Far-reaching Crossbow and dashed out at full speed. There was no other way; wearing the fur coat and boots, he simply couldn’t run fast enough.

By the time Zhang Wujia realized what had happened, Liu Ji was already swallowed by wind and snow. He stamped his foot in frustration, tossed Liu Ji’s coat onto the sled, raised his unfamiliar blade, and shouted,
“Team, ready! Prepare for contact!”
It was damned cold. Liu Ji felt his body heat draining rapidly. He had only one chance—if the wolves caught him, it would be the end of his journey. If he somehow returned to his own time, what would he tell his girlfriend?
“Hey, I took a trip to the Tang Dynasty and got eaten by wolves?” What shame.
His optimism made his body feel a little less stiff. After running about a hundred meters, he finally spotted a cluster of white shadows—so well camouflaged that, unless close up, one could hardly distinguish them from the snowy background.
The snow wolves were indeed sly. They kept just at the edge of the crossbow’s range. Shooting blindly would waste arrows and accomplish little. Such tactical prowess was no less than a real battlefield.
He dared not underestimate them. Raising his crossbow, he held his breath and aimed at a tall figure in the distance, aligning it in the sight. He quickly calculated air resistance and wind angle, then pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The moment he squeezed the trigger, Liu Ji felt a powerful force jolt him forward. The taut bowstring snapped back, the bronze mechanism converted the force into propulsion, and the heavy steel arrow shot out, slicing through the wind and snow with a faint hiss.
A sharp howl echoed through the snowstorm, clear and piercing. Liu Ji slung his crossbow over his shoulder and turned to run back. A hundred meters—barely ten seconds. He knew only to push his legs as hard as possible, forgetting this was no ordinary sprint.
Behind him, wolf howls grew closer, footsteps thudded louder, as if right at his heels. Ahead, all was still a white blur. For a moment, he wondered if he’d run the wrong way.
At last, he glimpsed a dark shape. He hunched low, ignoring his numb feet, moving forward purely on instinct.
He dared not look back. The heavy, rhythmic breathing behind him was like death’s gaze, shadowing his every move.
With a thud, Liu Ji felt a force crash into his shoulder, knocking him onto the ice. He tried to push himself up, but something pinned him down, rendering him immobile. From the corner of his eye, a massive wolf head drew closer, drool dripping from its blood-stained tongue onto the ice before his eyes.
Just one step short. He had overestimated his body’s endurance—piercing cold had slowed his reactions, dulled even his willpower. Disappointment swept over him. Fate always brings what one most fears.
“You beast, how dare you!”

Zhang Wujia’s voice, carried by the wind, trembled slightly, but to Liu Ji it sounded like the music of the heavens.
With the voice came the man—a tall shadow flashed across his vision, blocking everything. The blade’s gleam was swifter than sound, slicing down diagonally. A faint crack rang out—the sound of a skull splitting. Liu Ji felt his body suddenly lighten as a hulking form crashed onto the ice, its hot wolf blood freezing instantly.
“Kang Fourth, Chen Jin—rescue him! Old Wu, Old Shi—cover our retreat!”
He shouted sharply. Two soldiers stood on either side, blades raised to block the wolves charging from the front. The other two grabbed Liu Ji’s arms, lifting him and, without letting go, dragged him back toward the formation.
Howls echoed in succession, long and mournful, like battle horns wailing through the snowstorm. Countless massive figures emerged from all directions, encircling the small Tang army squad.
A particularly large snow wolf, nearly half again bigger than its peers, stood with a black crossbow bolt lodged in its massive body—only the tip visible outside. Pain made it restless, its sharp claws scraping the ice, gray-green eyes fixed fiercely on the humans and their blades.
The death of their comrade had stirred their bloodlust. For these intruders, there was only one fate.
The wounded alpha wolf raised its head and howled. Both Zhang Wujia outside the line and the soldiers within knew—
The battle had begun.