Bolis slowly recalled the past of the three Wolfkin brothers. He immediately summoned Ouyang to his side. "Get ready now," he warned.
A bad premonition gnawed at his heart. Wolfkin siblings shared blood bonds. If one was in trouble, the others would sense it.
No need to wait until tomorrow. Bolis guessed the eldest and second brothers were already heading to the castle. Time for preparation was running out.
Three hours remained until sunset. Only Ouyang, with an intact body, held a crippled Blood Clan member—just a head—in her arms. Perched on her head was a tiny coal ball that wouldn’t wake no matter how much she poked it.
The longer she waited at the gate, the more nervous Ouyang grew.
"Don’t be nervous. Relax," Bolis said.
He saw the anxious tension on Ouyang’s face. She looked like a rookie with little combat experience, facing Mosterians for the first time.
As an elder, Bolis spoke kindly to ease her nerves for the coming fight. "Even with only half a head left, I still count as half a fighter."
Words did nothing. Bolis thought of a better way to reassure her.
He gazed at her delicate, cute frame and smiled warmly. "If you’re truly scared, transplant my head onto your body. I’ll handle the fighting. You just watch."
Bolis’s horrifying idea made Ouyang shudder. She rejected it without hesitation. "I think that’s quite unnecessary."
"Hahaha, just a joke from me," Bolis chuckled.
His joke made Ouyang silently exhale. The distraction eased her tension.
Everything proceeded smoothly per Bolis’s plan.
Ouyang readily agreed. She first retrieved the silver sword lost in the castle hallway. Then she went to the training room. She split Anderson’s corpse in two. She hung his head above the outer gate. She placed his body before the sofa chair. She arranged it deliberately at the entrance for the two brothers to see. It was Bolis’s revenge. He could never forgive what they’d done.
Even beheading Anderson couldn’t erase the harm he’d inflicted on her.
She’d never forgive the Anderson brothers. Playing with human lives, deciding fates arbitrarily—such Mosterians didn’t deserve to live.
"Many thanks, Miss Ouyang, for your excellent, brave cooperation," Bolis said. "I don’t like owing debts. Call anytime you need something."
"No need. No repayment," Ouyang replied.
It was only a temporary alliance. Ouyang didn’t want ties with the Blood Clan. Once this ended, they’d cut all connections. They’d never meet again.
This wasn’t Ouyang’s first time handling corpses.
In the Northern District, fools always challenged Xiaomo’s business.
Ouyang had seen the cruelest price: stuffing rivals’ bodies into a meat grinder, packaging them as canned goods, and returning them until competitors quit.
Maintaining Xiaomo’s power in the Northern District involved hidden currents. Ouyang had only glimpsed part of it.
She recalled the Bloodkin Prince’s words. What Xiaomo knew about the maid training institute was just the tip of the iceberg.
Ouyang guessed her placement here—in the sham institute—aimed to destroy the hidden Wolfkin den. Xiaomo had used her identity to infiltrate Mosterian conflicts. She’d completed a covert mission.
Dealing with these two Wolfkin would let her temporarily return to human life.
But only temporarily…
Feeling a hint of gloom, Ouyang shook her head. The priority was the Wolfkin before her.
She believed everything Brother Long had done was right.
Just then, both heard footsteps outside the pine forest. The pace was incredibly fast—like running on all fours. They’d appear in under ten minutes.
What was coming had arrived.
Ouyang and Bolis stared seriously at the growing commotion ahead. They spoke in unison: "Targets have appeared."
Wolfkin mostly had clear, sharp blue eyes, despite different fur colors.
Before entering the pines, they smelled the foul Blood Clan stench. Two mighty Wolfkin stood before Ouyang.
One had grey fur. The other had grey and tea-colored fur. Their forms matched Anderson, dead in the castle.
Greywolf saw the corpse before the sofa and the head hanging above the gate. He let out a low, furious growl.
"A dog can’t stop eating filth," Bolis called out, unafraid. "And neither can a wolf."
Greywolf’s gaze shifted to his old friend Bolis in the little maid’s arms. Bolis joked and laughed.
"If someone freed you," Greywolf growled, "we can lock you up again."
He wasted no words. Both sides clashed instantly.
Bolis cleared his throat. He emitted a deafening ultrasound. The powerful decibels halted the Wolfkin brothers mid-step.
Ouyang watched eagerly. The Wolfkin covered their ears, pained and unable to advance. She awaited Bolis’s next move.
"After controlling Greywolf and Brownwolf," Bolis realized, "what then?"
His plan had a critical flaw.
Bolis signaled with his eyes to be placed on the ground. He urged Ouyang to take the silver sword and strike.
The moment Ouyang set him down, a creaking sound echoed from distant pines.
Greywolf, eyes bloodshot, took a deep breath. He roared—an ear-splitting sound. In under a minute, he nullified Bolis’s ability.
"Is this all you’ve got?" Greywolf mocked.
He effortlessly uprooted a pine tree. He charged at Ouyang and Bolis. He swung the trunk like a baseball bat. It smashed into Bolis’s head. The head flew high—a perfect home run.
"Fend for yourself, little maid," Greywolf said.
Bolis’s head vanished. Greywolf tossed the trunk aside with a clang. He approached Ouyang, voice cold and furious. "Only you could’ve cut off my brother’s head and arranged it like this."
"That’s right," Ouyang confirmed.
She gripped the silver sword. She swung swiftly at him. A crisp clang rang out. Greywolf stood unharmed.
"Don’t be nervous, little one," Greywolf sneered. "Since you and Bolis are the same kind, I can turn you into him too."
His fur hardened constantly. Bloodshot blue eyes burned with murderous intent. As the eldest, he threatened coldly: "I wouldn’t mind adding another Blood Clan canned good to my storage."
