Chapter 42: Wolf Family That Transcends Racial Hatred II

CH42 Wolf Family That Transcends Racial Hatred II

***

Mama wolf growled.

Low. Commanding. Final.

The cub paused... then finally released its grip and let Alex guide it down.

Papa wolf barked once—short and deep.

The five cubs immediately trotted over.

They rubbed affectionately against their parents, tails wagging and noses bumping together in a ritual of scent-sharing and familial reassurance.

Then—

Without warning—they ran back.

To Alex.

Alex’s body froze as they began climbing all over him again, like nothing had happened.

The biggest of the bunch immediately kicked away its siblings and reclaimed its seat atop his head, tail swaying smugly.

’You little tyrant...’ Alex thought, daring not to move a muscle.

But this time—

There was no backlash.

The adult wolves merely watched.

Their killing intent had fully faded, replaced with bemusement... and maybe even reluctant acceptance.

He wasn’t a threat. That was now clear.

Papa wolf padded toward the den’s entrance and returned moments later, dragging a large, bloodied carcass into the clearing.

He barked again.

The cubs perked up, leapt off Alex like he was yesterday’s bedding, and charged toward the fresh kill with eager howls.

Alex blinked.

The prey they were now tearing apart?

It was a peak Class 1 beast.

The same level as him.

His lips twitched.

So... the five wolf cubs who had been climbing all over him—gnawing on his fingers, tugging at his cloak, chewing on his bootlaces—were capable of ripping a Class 1 beast to shreds.

’Which means they could’ve done the same to me...

’Am I just lucky to still be alive...?’ Alex wondered grimly.

Either way, he wasn’t about to complain.

Not when his head was still attached to his body.

Grruuumble~

Alex’s stomach let out a protest.

He sighed, then pulled a piece of dried meat from his Nullcore orb nestled within his satchel and began chewing.

The scent drifted through the den.

It didn’t take long.

Four of the cubs remained focused on their fresh kill, but the biggest—the self-proclaimed ’king’—turned his head, tail wagging furiously. The meaning was clear as day.

Alex raised a brow. "Really?"

Still, he fished out another strip of dried meat. But instead of handing it over, he took a small bite first—a test—and then extended it towards mama wolf, who had padded over, eyeing her greedy cub.

She sniffed the meat, eyes narrowing for a moment.

Then, with a quiet huff, she nudged Alex’s hand towards her cub.

Permission granted.

The cub didn’t wait. It chomped the meat from Alex’s fingers and swallowed it whole, wagging its tail and letting out a satisfied whine before trotting back to its siblings.

The simple exchange seemed to ease the last of the tension in the den.

Alex exhaled and relaxed his posture.

He resumed tending to his wounds—his palm glowing faintly as light-element mana streamed from his hand, weaving into his flesh.

The magic was from his maternal bloodline. As a result, the ambient wolf-like aura persisted around him, like the gentle echo of a deeper howl.

The two adult wolves didn’t stop him.

In fact, they simply watched—curious, contemplative.

It wasn’t just that he smelled like one of them.

He radiated power.

Power that felt... familiar.

’Could he be the offspring of a powerful wolf?’ They wondered in unspoken silence.

Over the next half hour, Alex’s injuries knit together. Muscles healed. Fractures sealed. Blood flow stabilised.

Only once fully restored did he take the time to truly observe his hosts.

And his eyes widened in realisation.

Papa wolf was a Crimsonspine Wolf.

Mama wolf, a Frostback Wolf.

Two powerful elemental variants of the same wolf species.

One embodied flame—the other, ice.

In the outside world, these two variants lived in entirely separate biomes. Fire and ice. Dry heat and frigid frost. In the rare instances where their paths crossed, the result had always been the same.

Violence.

They were considered natural enemies—mortal foes locked in eternal elemental conflict.

And yet...

Here they were.

Together.

Mated.

Raising cubs.

Living in peace.

Alex stared at them, quietly stunned.

’Here in this isolated subspace... even elemental and racial hatred has been tempered by time and proximity.’

He exhaled deeply, shaking his head.

"Maybe it’s true that hatred is taught by the world... not born from within. Nurture, not nature."

He rose.

He didn’t want to leave without showing gratitude.

So, he reached into the Nullcore orb again, and drew out two Class 2 Beast Cores—one glowing faint red, the other deep blue.

Fire and water.

He placed them gently at the edge of the den.

An offering. A thank you.

The cubs were already asleep, huddled in a fluffy pile after their feast.

With a final glance at the two adult wolves—who met his gaze but made no move to stop him—Alex turned and slipped out of the den.

Behind him, silence.

Only after his figure vanished did the wolves approach the gift. They sniffed the cores thoroughly, checking for poison, curse, or enchantment.

Finding nothing, they swallowed them whole.

Then, they too lay down—digesting not just the energy of the cores, but the strange series of events that had just taken place.

Alex, meanwhile, navigated the winding tunnels of the cave network, making his way back toward the open valley.

Roars and growls echoed through the stone.

He could feel it in his bones—the battle for supremacy still raged.

The competition for the corpse of the fallen Beast Overlord.

Reaching the tunnel’s exit, he tucked in his aura and slowed his pace.

From here, he could see it—the Viper Overlord’s cave.

A strange golden radiance wafted from within. It shimmered with invitation... almost like it was calling to him.

Alex narrowed his eyes.

Between him and that cave were several mana signatures—none too powerful. Most of the dominant beasts had gone to compete for the corpse, leaving behind scavengers and weaker predators.

But that didn’t mean they were harmless.

If he stumbled or got tangled in a fight, the noise could alert the stronger beasts. Then he’d be torn apart before he could even explain himself.

Still...

Alex grinned.

’Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’

He moved.

Silent. Swift. Steady.

Drawn forward by golden energy—and the promise of opportunity.

***