Chapter Two: The Mysterious Youth

“Big brother, what delicious things did you catch today?” came a child’s innocent voice.

“Today we brought down a wild boar. And not just any boar—look, it must weigh at least a thousand pounds. It takes several sturdy men just to carry it,” replied a deep voice, brimming with delight.

At the foot of a towering mountain, there lay a tiny village, home to no more than a few dozen families. At its entrance, several broad-shouldered men were hoisting a wild boar as large as a young elephant toward the village. This was no ordinary animal—its tusks, as long as a grown man's arm, gleamed menacingly, sharp enough to pierce the thickest ox hide and, were they to gore a person, could easily spill their entrails. The boar’s hide was thick, bristling with coarse hair like a field of needles, so tough that even a sword might struggle to pierce it. Its massive form was easily a thousand pounds of brute force. One could only wonder how the villagers had managed to bring it down.

“Chief, look! This is today’s catch. With its size, it’ll feed the whole village for days,” the man at the front said excitedly to an elderly man leaning on a cane at the village gate.

“Excellent, excellent, well done,” the old man replied, coughing lightly, his joy evident. He was, without a doubt, the village chief.

This village was called the Dugu Clan, nestled at the base of a small mountain in the Hundred Beasts Range. The name came from the fact that everyone in the village bore the surname Dugu.

“It’s all thanks to Dugu Ling,” the burly man continued, gesturing to a young man at the rear of the hunting party. “If not for his natural-born strength, who would dare attempt such a feat?”

What kind of young man was this Dugu Ling? He stood well over six feet tall, his slightly fitted clothing revealing a perfectly sculpted physique. His features were striking, almost chiseled, his skin bronzed, his countenance deep and defined like a Greek statue. His sharp brows slanted into the dark locks at his temples, and his eyes were like icy pools—wild, unrestrained, with an alluring hint of danger.

“Big Brother Dugu Ling is amazing! When I grow up, I want to be just as strong as you!” A child ran up to Dugu Ling, hugging his leg.

The child’s face was round and plump, his large eyes sparkling with excitement, and his broad smile was irresistibly charming.

Dugu Ling scooped the child up, his voice gentle. “All right, Dugu Hao, but you’ll have to work hard. Get up early every day and train your body. No more sleeping in, or how will you ever join the hunting party and go on hunts?”

“I promise! Starting tomorrow, I’ll get up early and train hard, just like you!” the child replied, his voice loud and unwavering. The group burst into laughter at his earnestness.

That night, Dugu Ling lay down alone to sleep. Moonlight spilled across his face as memories of the past three years drifted through his mind.

He recalled nothing of his life before three years ago. He only remembered waking up in this very bed, his past a complete blank. When he’d asked the chief, the old man told him that, three years prior, Dugu Ling had suddenly collapsed at the village gate and had been found by Dugu Bo, the hunting party leader, who carried him inside and nursed him back to health. When Dugu Ling awoke, night had already fallen, and so he began life in the village.

The chief also explained that, although he appeared about fifteen or sixteen years old at the time, Dugu Ling’s mind was as blank as a newborn’s. Since everyone in the village was named Dugu and he had no name of his own, the chief had bestowed upon him the name Dugu Ling.

In these three years, he had learned the local language, learned to hunt, to work, and so much more. Dugu Ling was naturally gifted with extraordinary strength. Once, he’d casually lifted the thousand-pound millstone at the village gate, astonishing Dugu Bo and earning himself a place on the hunting party. The memory still brought a smile; he’d nearly scared Dugu Bo out of his wits.

Dugu Village was a simple, honest place. Life may have been modest, but for Dugu Ling, it was peaceful and content. Everyone treated him kindly, never regarding him with suspicion for being an outsider. In fact, they were grateful for the food he brought back each day.

Since Dugu Ling had joined the hunting party, their small group had enjoyed daily successes. Yet, despite this, one question continued to trouble him: Who am I?

That night, the question weighed on his mind until he drifted off to sleep.

Outside, the waning moon hung cold and beautiful, its light tinged with crimson. Suddenly, a massive silhouette flashed beyond the village—a huge, swift shape, unseen by any.

The next day, Dugu Ming set out with the rest, venturing into the mountains in search of food for the village.

The mountain that cradled Dugu Village was but a small peak in the Hundred Beasts Range. Yet even this “small” mountain rose several hundred meters high, daunting for ordinary folk to cross. It hinted at the vastness of the greater range.

Generations of villagers had lived off this land; men hunted while women tended the fields. Dugu Ling had heard the chief speak of what lay beyond the mountains, and of immortals—beings who could grant any wish and fly through the skies.

Dugu Ling remained skeptical. How could anyone truly fly? Even immortals seemed a stretch of the imagination. If they existed, why had he never seen one? Still, after three years at the mountain’s foot, the world beyond called to him. He longed to see what lay outside.

As the group trekked through the forest, someone grumbled, “Strange, we’ve walked so far today and haven’t even seen a rabbit. Dugu Ling, what do you think?”

“I’m not sure,” Dugu Ling replied, “but something feels off about the mountain today. There’s something strange in the air. Why don’t you all rest here? I’ll go deeper into the mountain and scout ahead. If I find anything, I’ll come right back.”

Dugu Bo considered this for a moment. “That’s the best we can do. But be careful. If anything seems wrong, return immediately, understood?”

“No problem. Trust me,” Dugu Ling answered confidently, flexing his arms before heading alone toward the mountain’s heart.

None of them—least of all Dugu Ling—knew that a calamity was silently creeping toward Dugu Village.

Ps: Two chapters today. I’ve rewritten this section and hope you’ll encourage me with your support. This novel will unfold across two intertwined worlds—one fantastical, one real—alternating chapters between them. Give it a read, vote for me, add to your favorites—any and all support is welcome.