A night of bloodshed passed, and the morning sun shone on the broken camp.
In the heavy atmosphere, everyone cleaned up the battlefield, packed the goods, and set off again with heavy hearts.
However, this wolf pack attack was only the beginning.
A few days later, they were attacked by a pack of Grey Wolves again.
This time, the scale was even larger than before. However, the caravan was fully prepared, so their losses were actually somewhat fewer than the last time.
After repelling this pack of Grey Wolves, the caravan had barely caught its breath when they were attacked by a pack of Lightning Wolves three days later. Three Raging Lightning Wolves and nine Valiant Lightning Wolves killed a full fifteen Gu Masters. In the end, they left a field of wolf corpses, and only one injured Raging Lightning Wolf led the remaining wolves in retreat.
Although many Gu Masters in the caravan wished to take revenge, they lacked the strength and dared not venture deep into Howling Moon Mountain. They could only watch helplessly as the wolf pack retreated.
This attack made the caravan's leader and vice-leaders realize their dangerous situation. That very night, they decided to quicken their pace to escape Howling Moon Mountain's encroachment as soon as possible.
And yet, even so, over the next half-month, they still suffered frequent attacks from wolf packs.
Grey Wolves, Lightning Wolves, Snow Wolves, Dire Wolves, and even Bloodfang Badgers…
Leaving Howling Moon Mountain, the entire caravan breathed a collective sigh of relief.
They enjoyed a period of peace and stability, but when they entered White Tiger Mountain, they encountered another beast horde attack.
This time, it was the Turtleback Apes.
These white apes were enormous, with shells on their backs bearing clear tortoise-shell patterns. The ape horde's attack, while not causing massive casualties, led to heavy losses of goods, causing countless people's hearts to bleed.
Fang Yuan's goods also met with disaster; less than half of his dozen-odd cartloads of goods remained.
The caravan's morale plummeted. These people braved life and death to trade, purely to earn money. But these losses rendered the journey of many completely futile.
"This trip was a waste."
"I settled my accounts yesterday. All in all, I made less than two thousand Yuan Stones!"
"My situation is worse. I've already lost thirty percent of my goods."
"Can it be worse than Zhang family? They've already lost a big chunk of their goods!"
"Alas, if I had known this would happen, I would have just stayed in the family clan. Why suffer such risks for so little money!"
…
In this atmosphere, five days later, a pack of White Tigers attacked.
The caravan suffered losses again.
Seven days after that, a group of Blaze Tigers launched a surprise attack. The caravan's camp was covered in flames, and a large amount of goods was burned.
Everyone's morale hit rock bottom. Many had already lost everything.
Ten days later, just as they were cheering at the prospect of leaving White Tiger Mountain's territory, a Manticore appeared.
Five tigers, one Manticore. A Manticore is a tiger with wings.
The saying 'a tiger with wings added to it' was precisely describing this creature.
A single Manticore was at least a Thousand Beast King. With its ability to fly, it was even more troublesome.
To resist this Manticore, one of the caravan's vice-leaders unfortunately lost his life.
The Manticore followed the caravan, constantly harassing them for over a hundred li. In the end, the caravan discussed and decided to sacrifice the pawns to save the king, cutting off their own arm like a brave warrior, abandoning nearly a hundred family slaves.
Most of these family slaves were wounded or crippled. They cried out in despair, cursed, or wept and begged for mercy, but none of it could change their fate.
In the end, the Manticore feasted its fill and left satisfied.
Far away from White Tiger Mountain, the caravan rested and recuperated properly. The leaders of the various clans did not skimp on rewards, finally managing to boost morale and reinvigorate their spirits.
The caravan's size had been reduced to less than half of its original.
However, after this brutal selection and tempering, the entire caravan began to develop a certain elite temperament.
"I have been a merchant for many years. This is the most difficult trip yet."
"These beasts, what has gotten into them, attacking so frequently!"
"After this trip, I am retiring."
"Regardless, this trade route needs its risks to be reassessed…"
"The main reason is that these great mountains are uninhabited. Without outposts to garrison and cull, these beasts grow unchecked and uncontained."
Some lamented, some were disheartened, and some still held onto hope.
But bad luck seemed to have latched onto this caravan. In the subsequent journey, not only were they assaulted by various beast hordes, they also encountered many swarms of insects and wild Gu worms.
The number of people in the caravan kept shrinking. People no longer cared about profits and losses; they began to taste the pressure of life and death.
Many goods were actively discarded in pursuit of greater speed.
The sky was filled with sunset clouds, the setting sun red as blood.
The caravan passed through the mountain forests. Everyone was silent, their expressions tired and numb, their morale low.
Many people were wearing bandages, bearing injuries of varying severity. They staggered along the rugged mountain path, their steps unsteady.
It had rained yesterday, making the mountain path muddy and slippery, difficult to traverse.
A cart fully loaded with goods had its right wheel unfortunately stuck in the mud. The dragging Camel-Chicken craned its neck, let out a series of cries, and stamped its feet with effort, but it couldn't budge.
Just then, a pair of hands pressed against the back of the cart and, with a forceful lift, raised the wheel out of the mud pit.
The one doing this was Fang Yuan.
He casually clapped his hands. The several thousand jin of goods…