Nighttime. The bandits had stopped pursuing Yan Chen and Shanyang. Instead, they set up camp, deciding that they would chase the pair in the morning.

In the camp, laid a makeshift tent that could provide shelter for two people. The bandits had designated the first shift of night duty to the youngest one, because the older bandits were afraid of sleeping in the same tent with him after their new discovery. Outside the tent lay a flickering fire, bringing warmth and light to the campsite. The youngest one sat in front of the campfire. He fed it firewood whenever the flames showed signs of dying out. From time to time, a large yawn came out of his mouth. The exhaled water vapor would condense and freeze as it came in contact with the cold air, creating fog.

It had already been two hours since the youngest started guard duty. He was bored out of his mind and tired from all the running that the group of bandits did today. As his mind wandered, a lecherous grin replaced the drowsy look on his face. One of his hands made its way into his pants, making rubbing motions that became more and more vigorous. And all the while, he pictured a familiar pale figure. Soon, grunting noises emerged from him.  

After a few minutes of fun, he became too absorbed in his fantasy to notice a figure emerge from the darkness. 

Yan Chen raised his pickaxe above his head. He channeled energy into his arms and swung down toward the top of the bandit’s head. The man died without even knowing that someone had attacked him. His cranium had shattered with fragments flying all across the campsite, crimson blood spurted out, and brain matter splattered out of his skull. A hissing sound could be heard as some of the brain matter fell into the fire, being cooked by the flames. 

The body fell downward, making a muffled sound as it hit the snow. 

Yan Chen walked past the body without sparing it a glance. He opened the flap of the tent, looking around before entering. In front of him, laid a snoring bandit, unaware of the murder that had happened a few moments ago. 

Yan Chen slowly entered the tent, careful not to disturb his next victim. The rusty pickaxe head was raised again, covered in the blood and brains of the youngest bandit. It dropped downward, shattering another head, painting the inside of the tent with blood and brain matter. Yan Chen pried the bloody pickaxe head out of the shattered skull. He stared at the body for a few seconds before realizing something.

‘Where’s the third one?’

Suddenly, a knife stabbed through the fabric of the tent, nicking Yan Chen’s face. He quickly tumbled out of the tent and prepared to face the attacker.

Outside stood the third bandit. He was wielding a blood-coated knife and had a furious expression on his face. The man had been relieving himself behind a tree before noticing strange sounds coming from the camp. By the time he returned, the youngest bandit was already dead and Yan Chen had just killed the sleeping one.

He roared in anguish, pained to see the corpses of his friends lying on the ground with their skulls cracked open. The bandit wildly stabbed and slashed, his attacks controlled by his anger. Yan Chen was forced to back away, unsure of how to counterattack with his top-heavy weapon. 

The bandit continued moving forward, determined to kill the killer of his comrades. But then, he heard hooves pounding the ground and what sounded like a goat bleating angrily. 

“Maaaa!”

Shanyang charged toward the bandit with his horns pointed at the man’s crotch. The goat rammed straight into the man, piercing through a sensitive part of the body. The man let out a tortured shriek as his crown jewels were skewered, giving Yan Chen the chance to land a killing blow. As the man watched the pickaxe fall toward his head, he felt a sense of regret while picturing a woman and a small child.

‘I didn’t get to say goodbye to them.’

With a crack and thud, the last bandit was dead, and the threat to Yan Chen was no more. 

“That was a great attack!” Yan Chen rubbed Shanyang’s head, thankful for the goat saving him. 

Although Yan Chen was strong, he did not know how to fight. It was likely he would suffer a severe injury after making a mistake while fighting all three bandits. That would have made all his preparations for escaping the iron mine a waste of time. And asking them to fight him one on one was such a stupid idea that no one would ever agree to if they had even a single brain cell. So, one of the possible ways to eliminate them without incurring many injuries was by attacking at night. Even the night attack resulted in him getting wounded. It could have been worse had Shanyang not interfered.

Shanyang bleated, pleased with himself. Before the attack started, Yan Chen made sure that the goat would not enter the campsite to ensure his safety. But when Shanyang saw that his friend was in danger, he rushed forward to help. 

“Alright, let’s clean up and check out what the bandits had on them.” 

Yan Chen dragged the bodies after stripping them, leaving behind a trail of blood and brain matter that painted the pure snow red. He buried them under a thick layer of snow. This was not done out of kindness, for they were people that had tried to kill him and Shanyang. Instead, they were buried to reduce the chance of any hungry predators catching the scent of blood. He also covered all the bloodstains on the ground with snow and scrubbed the tent clean. 

Yan Chen placed all the bandits’ belongings into a pile. Altogether, the bandits had fifty-odd copper coins, three shoddy iron knives, six leather slings, three waterskins, three tunics, three pants, and a flint used to start fires. 

Along with that, Yan Chen found some reddish-yellow strips that had the texture of leather. The strips gave off a strange smell that stung his nose. He licked one of the strips. He was immediately assaulted by the strong flavor of salt combined with an odd flavor that he had never tasted before. He grimaced, but licked the strip again and then bit into it. 

The strip of… something was rock hard and super chewy. The salt sucked the moisture out of his mouth and any remaining salvia made the strip even chewier. It was as if Yan Chen was fighting against his food. After countless minutes of chewing, Yan Chen could finally swallow the strip of what he determined to be flesh. 

Although the strips of flesh were hard to eat, they tasted hundreds of times better than the bland millet rocks he usually ate. So, he shoveled snow into his mouth to rehydrate and continued ripping off chunks of the strip with his mouth, replenishing the energy used during the fight. 

Shanyang curiously gazed at a strip of meat before putting the whole thing into his mouth. Yan Chen watched while chewing on a strip of flesh, interested in what the animal’s reaction would be. 

A blank look covered Shanyang’s face. The intense flavor of the meat had blown the goat’s mind. That moment changed Shanyang’s life. He discovered that there was food even tastier than tree bark and grass in the world. Addicted to the flavor, he began gobbling down more strips of flesh. 

Shanyang and Yan Chen ate until they were full and satisfied. They then went inside the tent, Yan Chen wrapped himself and Shanyang in blankets. Soon they fell asleep. The crackling fire died down and the cold and dark forest was finally covered in a blanket of silence except for the occasional soft bleats of a goat enjoying his dream. 

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Author's Note:

[I wonder what Shanyang is dreaming about.]

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This is not part of the story.

(Feline Transmigrator)

[Part 1]

A black haired British Shorthair cat sat lazily atop a cushion, basking in the sun.