Episode 15 : The Wolf King of Dogtooth Mountain - Part 4

 Moreover, given his old age, it could be that the Wolf King was the last living remnant from the Desert Wolf's time in the desert... but Guin quickly dismissed that idea with a smile. Many years must have passed since the desert wolf had been a desert wolf.

 That's when Guin jolted to his feet.

 But soon he will relax. The Wolf King has returned.

 The wolf king approached Guin in a supple manner, as if he was sorry for making him wait. There's something in his mouth. The Wolf King gently places the thing in his mouth at Guin's feet, and then, in the manner of a lord who has paid tribute to a sacred sovereign, he steps back a little, sits down gently, and rests his chin on his paws, with his head on his chest. But he also looked up at Guin with a strangely familiar expression.

 Guin took what the Wolf King had brought him. It was a well-fed Baltic bird with beautiful iridescent feathers, as warm as if it had just died.

 Guin looked at the Wolf King. The Wolf King was watching him as if he were afraid his gift might not be to his heart's content. Guin nodded and took it into his mouth without hesitation.

 The sweet, fresh blood flowed into his throat and soothed his parching dryness. Like a born beast, Guin tore into the plump bird with his sharp fangs, bit into its flesh, and immediately began to devour it with a hunger he had forgotten. His strong jaws moved, and he chewed the bones to pieces.

 The Wolf King watched the scene with some satisfaction. Guin, who was absorbed in eating the bird, suddenly noticed that he had torn off one of its feathers with his hand and presented it to the Wolf King. The Wolf King pushed it back with the tip of his nose, but he accepted it as if he were grateful for the king's food, and began to eat it slowly.

 Soon, Guin had devoured most of the large bird, which had plenty of markings. This wild food was so delicious that every part of Guin's body was filled with satisfaction and joy, as if he had devoured the meal of the gods, life itself. As he licked the blood from his mouth and hands with his long, coarse tongue, however, Guin could not help muttering to himself with sudden anxiety.

I'm a beast, aren't I? No civilized country's well-cooked food has ever filled my heart as much as this freshly killed Baltic bird which I devoured by slurping its blood and crushing its bones. Am I still no more than a beastman, not a man?

(Would Linda, the little princess of Paro, scream if she saw me like now, sitting alongside the wolf, devouring the prey with a bloody mouth?

 It was a thought that sent him into his usual tingling doubts about who he was and why he was being made to look like this.

 But the thought didn't bother him as much as it usually did. He was full and tired. On top of that, the Wolf King, who had been standing beside him contentedly licking the hairs on his legs and chest with his tongue, when he saw that Guin had finished his meal, dropped his head on his feet and closed his eyes, signaling to him that he should get some sleep.

"You're a smart guy, you know that?"

 Guin said with a laugh.

"But that's all right now. You've been sent by someone to look after me. I'm done being upset and upset and uppity over things that happen to me. It's not in my nature. Wolf King, I believe you and I believe that you're here to serve me at the behest of something. And that bird was the best meal I ever ate. The only thing I regret is that if you weren't a beast and could talk, you might be able to tell me what it is I'm looking for, who I am, what I'm meant to be, my destiny. I mean, you might even be able to tell me!"

 The Wolf King opened his eyes and listened intently as Guin spoke to him, as he would to any human being, as if trying to understand him as well as he could. But there was no sign in the wise beast's eyes that he understood, or that he did not understand.

 He just bowed his head and closed his eyes as if to say, "Rest again. Guin smiled and nodded, then stretched out his arms and legs and lay down and closed his eyes.

 The nights were cold in the Gutou Mountains. But the sturdy tanned leather cloak that encircled Guin's body protected him from the night air outside, and his well-trained warrior's body was trained to sleep and rest anywhere and everywhere.

 He fell asleep immediately.

 The Wolf King did not move for a while, as if he was afraid of disturbing the warrior's rest.

 Eventually, he gently stretches his neck and peers at Guin.

 Guin seemed to be sleeping well. The Wolf King woke up slowly to check it.

 He stretched, shuffled gently, brushed off the mud, and moved loosely to look into Guin's face. Then he licked Guin's forehead, taking care not to wake him, with the eyes of a pensive and strangely thoughtful beast fluttering.

 It was a gesture of respect and awe, like a wise old lord gently pressing the hand of a beloved emperor, but at the same time, it was also full of tenderness, like an old wise man, the eldest of the clan, caring for and caring for the new chief, who was still young and had many things he did not know. There was a strange resemblance between the huge silver wolf, the king of the Dog Head Mountain, and the fearless Leopard-headed warrior who slept crouched at his feet.

 It was probably something common to such fatalistic beings who were chosen by something greater to bear a heavy fate that was difficult for ordinary people in the world to bear, who were given abilities, mental strength and extraordinary fighting spirit, and who were sent into a terrible battle where they could expect no help. It must have been something common to such fatalistic beings.

 Very rarely, there are those who live such a life - and because they are so lonely, so charged with so extraordinary a mission, and so driven to achieve it, people call them "heroes". because they are so lonely, so charged with so extraordinary a mission, and so driven to achieve it.

 Guin jerked slightly, his strong body shaking nervously. He seemed to be dreaming.

 The Wolf King peered at him anxiously. But when he saw that he was going to sleep again, he raised himself gently and ran away towards the rocky ground without making a sound, as if he had thought of something. His figure looked like a white, fuzzy apparition.

 The darkness was deep. But the careful observer would have known at once that it had begun to change into a gloom that was somehow subtly different from that of the past.

 The stars circle the sky with regularity, and the pale moon Iris runs her chariot to the western horizon, as if fleeing the white-hot lure of her morning wooer. An indigo awakening creeps into the air, the lure casts a white omen into the eastern sky, awaiting its magnificent birth, and the huge, star-studded eye of the sky is about to open the curtain that surrounds it.

 Morning is coming to Nosferus. It's the morning that marks the beginning of the second day of the four-day deadline that Guin promised the Shem Alliance to return with reinforcements for Lagon, and the morning that 10,000 expeditionary forces of Mongol, led by Lady Amneris, prepare to launch an all-out assault to destroy Shem. It was also the morning of that day.

 Guin was asleep. Not a single beast, not even a mindless beast that disturbed his sleep, not even a tiger, not even a snake, not even a leech, dared to approach him, as if a mysterious pentagram had been drawn around his sleeping place, a barrier to protect him from all enemies.

 When the morning light shone on the top of Guto Mountain, as if the strong arm of a lure had been thrust through the thick night--

 The Wolf King has risen.

 He was again holding something in his mouth. This time it was a great lizard, as white as a Baltic bird, and its flesh tasted like bird's scissors. When he had put it down, he ran away again, and when he came again he had a vashy fruit in his mouth, full of juice. He was busy preparing breakfast for Guin.

 Placing Vashagruh next to the lizard, the old wolf-king stood over Guin's head, his legs flailing to protect him.

 At that moment, the incandescent disk of the rising lure cast its first glow of the day upon this rock-covered mountain. Immediately, the Wolf King's silvery-white body glittered and shone in the light, more dazzlingly than the glaciers of Asgarn in the aurora borealis.

 It was an infinitely mythical and infinitely beautiful scene. The king of Goutao Mountain stood motionless, glowing as if he were a leopard-headed hero with his body.

 three

 It was morning.

 Guin's eyes were blinded by the cold, wet nose pressed hesitantly against his chest and hand. What he saw was a huge wolf, its golden eyes peering at him in the morning sun, its whole body glistening with pure white as if it had been crystallized from alpine snow.

"I've been dreaming."

 He did not show the slightest sign of surprise at seeing it. He said to the Wolf King as if he had spent many years reigning with the Wolf King over the wolf pack on Dogtooth Mountain.

"In that dream I was a king. I had a glorious crown on my leopard's head and the purple robe of a king on my shoulders in the temple of Janus. People were calling my name - then the dawn star tried to escape from my hand and I followed it, defying the people's warning. I threw away my crown, my staff and my robe and became a naked warrior again. Then, somewhere on the way, in the middle of a straight red road, there appeared a strange old man with one eye, a long beard, a triangular hood and a goatee from the waist down, striking me with a crooked staff. He blazed red with his single eye and said, "Fool! Come back, come back and take back the dragon's throne! Come back and take back the dragon's throne!"

 Guin raised his hand and scratched his round head sagely.

"Was it none other than the loom, the old yarn, that wove destiny?"

 Of course, the old wolf did not answer. Instead, he rubbed his nose against Guin's arm in a friendly gesture, trying to draw her attention to the breakfast he had prepared for her.

 Guin laughed, patted the wolf on the head in appreciation, peeled off the rock lizard's skin, split the vacha fruit in two, and made breakfast. In spite of all his adventures and hard fighting, his strong limbs were well-rested, full of strength, and refreshed from fatigue.