Chapter Ninety-One: Rescuing the Wind Chasers!

The swift speed of the marrow-sucking dwarf rats was more than enough to toy with their prey. As long as there were branches for them to dart and weave between, any place could become their effortless hunting ground. No matter how powerful the prey, without specialized cranial defenses, it would be teased to death or forced to flee in panic.

Take, for example, the two giants before him. Faced with the sudden lash of the dwarf rats' tongue tubes, they could only protect their heads, leaving no opening to counterattack.

“If I want to harvest the Celestial Star Cedar, I must pass through this forest—these dwarf rats are enemies I have to face,” Wang Chen mused. “Perhaps I should lend them a hand, borrowing their strength to sweep away the rats.”

With this thought, Wang Chen retrieved a wooden flute from his storage space. Placing it gently to his lips, he recalled the experience of playing the jade flute, focusing only on controlling his breath—making each exhale as long and steady as possible.

…

“Abor, we need to find a way to fight back, or these rats will wipe us out,” said the giant whose scalp was bleeding.

Their language was filled with explosive sounds and curled consonants, and with their booming voices, it resembled rolling thunder.

“That’s right. We also need to warn the others, or they’ll be attacked by these rats sooner or later,” said the giant named Abor. “But what should we do, Gona?”

“You stay here and draw their attention. I’ll fetch everyone else, and when we return, we’ll slaughter these rats together,” Gona replied.

“Why don’t we go together?”

“If we go together, the rats will follow us—it’s pointless.”

After a brief hesitation, Abor agreed to Gona’s proposal. Gona protected his head and dashed toward one side of the forest. A few stray dwarf rats followed him, but as Gona ran swiftly and there was a lumbering big fellow who wouldn’t run, they turned back and continued their assault on Abor.

Scarlet tongue tubes kept shooting out, piercing Abor’s palm, which was as large as a fan. Seizing an opportunity, when one tongue tube stabbed into his palm, he flipped his hand and grabbed it, yanking a dwarf rat down from the tree. His other hand still guarded his head, so he only had one hand to use, and with it, he swung the rat by its tongue tube, smashing it against the ground until it was nearly senseless.

“Splurt—”

During this, another rat seized the chance and shot its tongue tube. Abor couldn’t defend himself in time, and the arrow-sharp tongue tube stabbed into the back of his head. Fortunately, the angle meant it only pierced the scalp. Such pain was trivial to a giant, but it made him unwilling to relax his guard, and he had to let go of the rat he’d been battering.

After all, the next tongue tube might pierce his brain.

The rat Abor had flung to the ground bled from its mouth; its innards were likely shattered, and it wouldn’t live much longer. Abor’s plight was little better—his palm was covered in wounds, and at this rate, in five minutes, his hand might be completely destroyed.

As he struggled desperately, a clear, ethereal flute melody suddenly wafted through the air.

Abor wondered where the music came from, but was astonished to see the dwarf rats halt their attack, frozen on the branches like felted figurines.

Without wasting a moment, he dashed to the supply cart and seized a giant bow. This bow was crafted to fit his stature, much longer and stouter than those used by ordinary humans. He fitted a similarly large-feathered arrow to his fingertips, drew, and fired!

A sharp whistling pierced the air—the arrow struck a rat on a branch with thunderous speed. Thanks to the arrow’s size and the immense draw weight of Abor’s bow, the rat was blasted apart in an instant. Its flesh and blood splattered, painting the branch crimson.

Abor pressed his advantage, nocking arrow after arrow and blasting every rat he could spot. He swung his giant bow to search for more, spotting one on another tree’s branch.

As Abor nocked another arrow, the previously motionless rat suddenly sprang to life, turning to flee—though stumbling, it moved swiftly. Seeing this, Abor could not hold back; he aimed at the darting rat and loosed his arrow.

The rat was about to jump to another tree, but mid-leap, the arrow struck it, exploding it into a cloud of blood.

Seeing so many of their kin slaughtered, the remaining rats were overwhelmed by the heavy scent of blood, their fear quashing their hunger, and they scattered in all directions.

Abor, as if avenging himself, continued shooting arrows after them. Before the rats escaped entirely, he killed another three or four that were fleeing at high speed. Finally, he slung the giant bow over his shoulder, turned to face a white birch tree, and called out in a voice like a bell, “I don’t know which friend lent a hand—my deepest thanks. Please come out and meet me.”

The one who helped was, of course, Wang Chen. But Wang Chen couldn’t understand Abor’s words; he could only judge by Abor’s slightly bowed posture and the act of putting away his weapon that Abor meant no harm.

After some thought, Wang Chen decided to show himself. He had just witnessed Abor’s extraordinary archery and imposing stature—clearly, this was a member of the Windhunter tribe. How else could there be a giant skilled in archery, coincidentally appearing where the Celestial Star Cedar grew?

Since his mission was connected to the Windhunter tribe, sooner or later they would cross paths; better to get acquainted early and see if he could glean any information about the quest.

Wang Chen stood before Abor, and facing this towering figure, it was impossible for him not to be wary. He gripped the Forest Gale tightly in his hand.

Meanwhile, he pondered how to communicate with the giant.

To his surprise, upon seeing Wang Chen, Abor hesitated briefly and then asked haltingly, “Hu...man?”

Wang Chen was delighted. “You can speak the human language?” He spoke slowly and deliberately, ensuring Abor could understand.

“I... a little... can speak,” Abor managed. “Thank you, human, for help.”

Wang Chen deciphered the meaning from Abor’s unique grammar and waved his hand, indicating it was nothing.

The two then began to converse slowly and laboriously.

Wang Chen learned Abor’s name, confirmed his Windhunter tribe identity, and discovered that the Windhunters had come to the Sefeng Plain because their attempts to purchase Celestial Star Cedar had been unsuccessful. Thus, they had no choice but to harvest it themselves, even though they had to face ferocious, dangerous beasts.

Wang Chen also explained his purpose for coming, suggesting they could cooperate: Wang Chen would use the wooden flute to immobilize the rats, while the Windhunters would shoot them down en masse. Afterwards, they would jointly harvest the Celestial Star Cedar, and Wang Chen would only need two cores.