This was an aging mountain wolf. Unlike ordinary mountain wolves with gray or black fur, this one had a distinctive brown coat, a sign of its status as a magical creature. While the average lifespan of a mountain wolf was around 20 years, even after breaking through its limitations and advancing to a magical creature, this wolf's lifespan had only been extended to 30 years at most. Now, it had already reached the lifespan limit of an ordinary mountain wolf—20 years.
Though it theoretically had one-third of its life remaining, in the fiercely competitive forest, aging meant elimination. The pack needed a stronger, younger leader to guide them. The wolf had lost its eye not long ago in a fight with a newly ascended magical wolf from its own pack. Years of hunting experience and advanced combat skills had left the old wolf covered in scars.
The old wolf had lost. Its blinded eye marked the end of its dominance over a certain section of the outer Murphy Forest and served as a gift to the new alpha, who needed to establish authority. Dragging its scarred body, the old wolf left Murphy Forest and settled in the Bering Mountains.
Murphy Forest was filled with magical creatures and beasts. Most of their food came from ordinary wild animals, and only higher-tier magical beasts hunted lesser magical creatures or magical animals. In the past, the old wolf had led a pack of over twenty young wolves and had no worries about food. Even when encountering low-tier magical beasts, the pack held the advantage—wolves are social hunters, after all.
But now, the old wolf worried about food. The magic within its body was fading day by day, and with its two decades of wisdom, it was well aware that it was on its last legs. That was why it had come to the Bering Mountains.
There were few magical creatures in the Bering Mountains, and with winter approaching, many animals had migrated to Murphy Forest. In this territory, only three other magical creatures remained besides the old wolf: a giant crab living in the saltwater lake to the south, an eagle perched on the cliff walls to the west, and a leopard dwelling in the northern forest. Each of these creatures had carved out their own territory. They didn't fear each other, but neither did they wish to provoke one another.
With most animals already gone, the old wolf spent half its day searching for food. Today, luck hadn't been on its side. After nearly an entire morning of searching, it had only managed to catch a clueless guinea pig to satisfy its hunger.
Should it venture into the leopard's territory in the north? The old wolf pondered. The southern saltwater lake offered nothing beyond the crab and its kin, and the western cliffs were out of the question—the wolf wasn't a monkey and couldn't scale steep rock faces. The northern forest, home to the leopard, was its best bet for food.
After a moment of contemplation, the old wolf shook its head and began heading north.
Caesar, lying low on the forest floor, only let out a breath of relief when he felt the brown wolf's presence gradually fade into the distance. He cursed under his breath. To encounter such a dangerous creature after venturing out only a short distance—it was maddening. A wolf over two meters long with such an unusual coat of fur was not something to mess with. Caesar, still far from his peak strength, had no choice but to stay hidden.
After carefully scanning his surroundings and sensing no other creatures nearby, Caesar finally stood up and began searching for edible fruit. He hadn't forgotten why he had come all this way.
Luck was on his side this time. He discovered a strange tree with bamboo-like segmented trunks. About ten meters tall, its branches bore clusters of grape-like white fruit.
It was around two or three in the afternoon when Caesar finally returned to the lakeside cave. Strings of grape-like fruit hung from his shoulders—his spoils from hours of effort. Climbing those thin tree trunks had been no easy task and had drained much of his strength.
Angelina, who had recovered significantly, was now able to sit up. Although she couldn't walk yet, she was only a few days away from full recovery. She had been waiting on the straw mat in the cave for hours. The tedious wait had given her a strange feeling—like a wife waiting for her husband to return home. The thought occasionally crossed her mind, leaving her both flustered and confused.
If her legs had been working properly, Angelina might have gone out to look for Caesar herself. She couldn't imagine how she would survive alone in this desolate forest without him. Just as her patience was about to run out, Caesar finally returned, laden with fruit.
Excited, Angelina tried to stand up but stumbled and fell back onto the mat. Luckily, Caesar didn't see it, or he would have surely been amused by her adorable clumsiness.
Caesar spotted Angelina sitting upright in the distance. He scratched his head awkwardly and greeted her, "Hey, you're feeling better?" Caesar wasn't sure how to interact with a woman of her status—a princess—and blurted out something utterly trivial.
"Yes, I'm better now," Angelina replied, equally uncertain about how to address this man who had taken such liberties with her but still went along with his casual remark.
It was the first proper conversation between them since they met—simple and naive.
To avoid the awkward atmosphere, Caesar busied himself preparing lunch. He flipped stones on the sandy shore, unearthed another "meat chicken," and stuffed it with as much fruit as possible. He refrained from catching too many of those creatures—without a reliable new source of meat, Caesar wasn't going to drive them to extinction.
The grape-like white fruits he had found earlier were edible, though their taste was bland—neither sweet nor sour, almost flavorless. Their only redeeming quality was their juiciness; after eating a few, Caesar's mouth was dripping with juice.
When lunch was ready, Caesar tore half of the "meat chicken" for Angelina and handed her a few yellow fruits. It was a simple meal, but both of them ate heartily. Caesar had initially worried that a princess like her might not be able to stomach such plain food.
Angelina, however, wasn't picky, especially when hunger was gnawing at her. Besides, Caesar's cooking was surprisingly decent.
"What's your name?" Angelina asked casually as they ate.
"Caesar. My name is Caesar. And you?" Caesar replied, realizing that after caring for her for so long and taking so many liberties, he still didn't know this princess's name.
"Angelina Garrel. You can call me Angelina," she said.
"Oh," Caesar responded simply.
A surname tied to the nation itself—Caesar wasn't well-versed in noble etiquette, but even he understood that Angelina was a direct descendant of the royal family. The gap between them was enormous. If it weren't for the unusual circumstances they'd shared, Caesar would have been far more reserved and deferential in her presence.
The two continued eating until Angelina pointed to her food and asked, "How did you catch this Tidal Salt Crab?"
"Tidal Salt Crab? You mean the 'meat chicken'?" Caesar said, realization dawning on him. "There are plenty of them on the sandy shore over there. They're pretty easy to deal with—just don't let them catch you with their pincers. A good rock does the trick."
"Meat chicken?" Angelina raised an eyebrow. "Why did you name it that?"
"Because it tastes like chicken," Caesar replied honestly.
Angelina burst into laughter, the sound light and clear.
The atmosphere between them eased significantly with that shared moment of humor.
"Did you know?" Angelina said, her voice taking on a more informative tone. "Tidal Salt Crabs have the potential to evolve into magical creatures."
"Magical creatures?!" Caesar's voice rose in disbelief. He had seen only one magical creature in his life—the massive wolf from that morning. Even at his peak strength, Caesar wasn't sure he could defeat such a creature. And now, these little crabs could evolve into something like that?
"Yes. Tidal Salt Crabs are a type of octocrab. They have the potential to comprehend one of three powers: salt, water, or strength. If they manage to grasp even one, they can evolve into magical creatures," Angelina explained confidently, drawing on her knowledge from her teacher's rare books.
Angelina continued speaking, but much of it went over Caesar's head. He didn't know what an "octocrab" was, nor did he care. What he understood was that the gray-white crabs he had been casually hunting had the potential to become magical creatures.
"Maybe I should just wipe them all out before they evolve," Caesar suggested, clearly uneasy about having ticking time bombs scuttling around nearby.
"Evolution isn't that easy," Angelina said with a dismissive wave. "It's like how humans advance—whether it's a mage ascending ranks or a knight refining their fighting energy, it's incredibly difficult. For magical beasts, it's even harder. Without rare materials or extraordinary opportunities, they might never evolve in their lifetime."
Unlike humans, who have combat manuals for knights and arcane techniques for mages, magical beasts rely entirely on passive evolution, which has its limits.
"But what if one of them does evolve?" Caesar asked, finishing the last bite of his food.
"Then we'll just have to consider ourselves unlucky," Angelina replied matter-of-factly. Then, as if remembering something, she asked, "Are there a lot of Tidal Salt Crabs around here?"
"Not really. Including the seven or eight I've already killed, there should only be about five or six left," Caesar said after thinking for a moment.
Angelina's bright eyes blinked thoughtfully as she looked at Caesar. "Fifteen. That's the standard size of a Tidal Salt Crab colony. There's a high chance they have a Crab King."
Caesar froze. "Crab King? What's that supposed to mean?"
"At the very least, it's a magical creature that has mastered one of the three powers," Angelina informed him with a calm yet ominous tone.
Caesar leapt to his feet, his mind racing. A magical creature might already be lurking nearby—and he had killed several of its kin. This was not going to end well.
Angelina, however, remained composed, her confidence unwavering.
"Oh, and one more thing," she added mischievously. "Once Tidal Salt Crabs evolve into magical creatures, they're no longer called Tidal Salt Crabs. Depending on the power they've mastered, they become Brine Crabs (salt), King Crabs (strength), or Tide Crabs (water). And all three types…hibernate during winter."
She ended her explanation with a sly smile.