The Grayhide Bear's massive carcass lay where the sled team had dragged it—in the center of the Wolf Fang Clan's training courtyard. Steam still curled from the beast's slashed throat, its fur stiff with dried blood. Around it gathered warriors and elders, apprentices and children, drawn by the scent of victory.
Li Rong stood off to the side, his breath forming slow plumes in the cold. His arms were folded, eyes half-lidded, body still. He said nothing, even as voices buzzed like flies around the fallen beast.
"He brought it down himself?" one of the guards whispered.
"That's what Jian said. With barely any help."
"A Grayhide? That's no common prey. That's a warrior's kill."
"Hmph," another scoffed. "Luck, maybe. The boy hasn't even awakened a ring yet."
Near the clan platform, Elder Heng's voice rang out. He leaned slightly on his cane, half his face cloaked in shadow.
"A bold first hunt," he said, addressing the crowd. "And boldness, at times, must be recognized."
Elder Mo, silent beside him, offered a single nod.
But Elder Zhou, eldest among them, stepped forward, his voice rasping like the dry winter wind. "Boldness without balance leads to reckless ruin. Let us not forget that strength without control is no virtue."
Li Rong met Zhou's gaze without blinking.
The old man studied him—then chuckled.
"Still… there is fire in this one. Or something colder than fire."
That evening, Li Rong was summoned to the ancestral hall.
Within its cold stone walls, shadows danced from the fire pits. Statues of past warriors stood guard—grim visages of wolves and men etched in stone. At the center stood Li Wei, his father, speaking with Elder Zhou.
When Li Rong entered, both turned.
"You've grown quieter since the bear," Zhou said, voice low.
"I didn't kill it for noise," Li Rong replied.
Zhou barked a sharp laugh. "Just like your grandfather."
Li Wei offered a faint smile at that. "My father, Li Shen, would've liked him."
Zhou nodded. "He was a Spirit King, that old wolf. The last true one this clan produced. We, the elders, fall just short of that title—Spirit Ancestors, most of us. But your grandfather stood above."
"And you believe I take after him?" Li Rong asked flatly.
"I believe you're more dangerous," Zhou said.
He stepped closer, voice now a whisper. "I heard from Elder Mo. You've already reached Eighth Rank in Spirit Power, haven't you?"
Li Rong nodded.
Zhou's eyes narrowed, but not in suspicion—in approval.
"Most boys awaken at Level 3 or 4. A handful at 5 or 6. Li Feng reached 7 and was hailed like a prodigy. But you…"
He turned to Li Wei.
"Even your son eclipses you."
Li Wei didn't look pleased or displeased—he simply said, "He'll need that strength. Our clan is fractured."
Zhou's expression darkened. "Yes. And not everyone is thrilled to see a branch son rising."
Later, in the stillness of night, Li Rong sat across from his father near the hearth. The fire cracked softly.
"Tell me about Grandfather," he said suddenly.
Li Wei blinked. "What brought that on?"
"I want to know what kind of man a Spirit King was."
Li Wei leaned back, eyes glinting in the low light.
"He was relentless," he said. "Not loud. Not cruel. But driven. He saw the rot in this world early and never let it touch him."
Li Rong stared into the flames. "Did he lead?"
"No. He let the elders play politics while he guarded the borders. That was his answer to everything—power. The right to act."
Li Rong nodded.
"I don't want to play their games either."
The next morning, Li Rong trained alone on the outskirts, where frost laced the pines and mist curled between stones. Li Jian approached, his breaths puffing out in the chill.
"You're avoiding the others," Jian said.
"I learn better in silence."
Jian crouched beside him, tossing a pebble into a frozen stream.
"They're all still talking about the bear. Even some elders."
"I didn't kill the bear for them."
"I know," Jian said. "But maybe it's time to use their attention."
Li Rong glanced at him.
"Why are you here, Jian?"
"To see if you're building something," Jian replied, "and if I should stand beside it."
Li Rong turned back to his breathing forms. "Then stay. But don't expect banners and speeches."
"I'd prefer sharp blades and a quiet fire," Jian smirked.
That night, in the higher chambers of the elder lodge, a hushed meeting took place.
"Li Rong is no longer just a name," Elder Mo said. "His progress is abnormal."
"He's still unproven," Elder Heng said. "A child with luck."
Elder Zhou remained silent until the room hushed.
"Or he's something else," Zhou said finally. "A force we weren't expecting. Perhaps… the next true heir."
The others stiffened.
"The boy is Li Shen's blood," Zhou continued. "If he continues rising, this clan will shift."
"And not everyone will survive the turning," Mo muttered.
Zhou's wolf spirit flickered behind him, glowing faint and ghostly.
"Let the winds howl," he said.