"Ha, this little fellow is quite cute." Reger showed his usual good-natured temperament, smiling as he extended his black, dirty, and rather unsightly hand toward the little dragon.
"Wow—uh—" Green was not polite at all; perhaps she was disgusted by the fact that someone hadn't washed their hands in so long. She opened her mouth wide and carefully gave his hand a thorough cleaning.
"Hey, don't bite!" The old magician's smile grew even wider at the corners of his mouth. "I've turned my hand to stone; you won't be able to bite it."
"Peh—peh—" Green cooperatively spat out the old man's hand, panting as she desperately tried to spit out the remnants on the ground. The originally green saliva had turned black after washing the magician's hand, and one of her little paws pressed against her teeth, evidently feeling a bit sore.
"Hey, young man, what did you say your name was again?" The petrification effect had not fully taken hold; blood that was black and red still seeped from Reger's stone-like hand. As he flicked the blood away, he subtly shifted his focus.
"Da Qingshan, Harke Da Qingshan." True to his name, Da Qingshan was like a solid mountain, stable and steady. Although he noticed someone plotting against him and that some did not regard him highly, he was like a towering mountain, never reacting with malice.
Perhaps it was this innate kindness, simple nature, and steadfastness that earned him the favor of the ancient ice-type giant dragon.
Compared to Amy's tortured childhood, Da Qingshan's early years were even darker.
At the age of ten, while most children were still accustomed to snuggling in their mothers' arms, Da Qingshan had already begun hunting independently for a year.
It is hard to imagine how a little boy faced prey that was at least twice the size of any animal on the continent, or more accurately, these creatures saw Da Qingshan as their prey.
At first, some villagers would send him food, but when winter arrived, the days were extremely short—only two hours of daylight—and most animals hibernated, making it impossible to hunt on a large scale. Each household relied on the scant food they had managed to hunt during the summer, and what little could be spared for an orphan was minimal.
Constantly begging for food from others was certainly not something Da Qingshan could bring himself to do.
During those short days and long nights, the thing Da Qingshan, at the age of nine, did most and wished to do most was—sleep.
Only in dreams could he forget his hunger; only in dreams could he see the sunlight; only in dreams could he taste delicious food; only in dreams could he see his parents before the avalanche; and only in dreams could he save his energy.
However, even in dreams, he often felt hunger.
Hunger and cold became the most vivid memories of Da Qingshan at the age of nine.
When he could no longer withstand the hunger, dazed and confused, he clung to the last thread of hope, thinking about going outside to see if he could catch a small prey like a snow hare. He had tried digging traps, setting up snares, and excavating the burrows of snow hares.
The prey on the frozen continent had long since adapted to human hunting activities. Unless there was a large-scale hunt, most animals could evade capture, let alone a small child's naive tricks.
Da Qingshan's father had left him a steel crossbow, but how could a nine-year-old boy have the strength to pull a bow that even adults would struggle with?
Occasionally, on sunny snow slopes, Da Qingshan would find snow hares, snow mice, or snow chickens frozen to death at night, but more often than not, each time he ventured out to hunt, he returned empty-handed or only found some wild vegetables that had already frozen to death.
Watching Da Qingshan grow weaker and more frail, most villagers realized that the child would not survive the harsh winter. There was nothing they could do; the frozen continent was that cruel, and food was so limited…
Until one evening, the villagers were startled to see Da Qingshan staggering back from outside the village, struggling to drag a gigantic carnivorous creature—a snow leopard.
Everyone was dumbfounded.
In the heart of Dragon Tooth Mountain, snow leopards were extremely agile, with sharp claws and teeth. They were massive, could climb trees and swim, and had the strongest attack power. A single snow leopard could independently take down a pack of snow wolves.
Hunters generally kept their distance from snow leopards, and even ten hunters together might not be able to kill one.
How could an orphan manage to kill one?
During the winter, the relationships between people in the village were extremely cold. No one visited each other, not only because sitting still helped save energy and retain heat, but also because everyone feared the saying, "Nothing good comes from unnecessary visits." More and more people began to speculate: "Is that snow leopard frozen to death?"
"I don't know."
"Look, he isn't injured. How could he hunt a snow leopard without getting hurt?"
"Look at the snow leopard; it doesn't have any wounds either."
"It seems the snow leopard isn't frozen to death; its body is still warm."
As always, in silence, Da Qingshan laboriously dragged the snow leopard back home. He skinned it and filled a pot with snow to melt over the fire. After gathering some dry branches, he bent down to light the fire. Finally, after a long time without smoke, a wisp of blue smoke emerged from the chimney of the long-abandoned little house, and the long-missed aroma of meat slowly wafted toward every corner of the village.
When the meat was cooked, the boy filled a wooden basin with the best cuts, then, carrying the heavy basin, he went from door to door, delivering it to the villagers who had once helped him. As always, he remained silent, knocking on doors and bowing. "Thank you, Uncle/Aunt/Grandpa/Grandma." He would place down the meat and leave.
Two days later, another evening arrived, and the villagers again noticed a frail figure struggling through the snow—Da Qingshan was back, this time dragging something else—two snow foxes!?
In the frozen continent, the most cunning animals were foxes. Unlike other animals, snow foxes boasted blood-red fur even in the depths of winter. Despite their brilliance, very few hunters could capture a fox, and generally, hunters preferred not to hunt them at all.
A few years prior, a hunter had injured a snow fox, and from that day forward, foxes began visiting his home daily, dragging away his chickens one by one until none were left. Then they set their sights on the pigs. But since the pigs were too large to carry away, the clever foxes would ride on their backs, gnawing on their ears to steer them, using their bushy tails as whips, herding the pigs back to their den, where they would kill and eat them.
Since that incident, no one dared to hunt foxes again. How did this little guy manage to kill one, let alone two at once?
In silence, Da Qingshan returned home, skinned the foxes, and cooked the meat. Fox meat wasn't particularly tasty, but in winter, having anything to eat was good enough. When the meat was ready, just like before, he filled a basin with the best cuts and delivered them to the villagers who had once helped him, maintaining his silent demeanor as he knocked on doors and bowed. "Thank you, Uncle/Aunt/Grandpa/Grandma." He would leave the meat behind and walk away.
Thus, every few days, Da Qingshan would drag one or two massive carnivorous animals back to the village. The dilapidated little house left by his parents became the only one in the village that was always smoking. The villagers who had helped Da Qingshan no longer worried about food.
In the yard of the little house, more and more pelts of carnivorous animals, cured with hard wood logs for support, hung up to dry.
During this time, a rumor began to circulate in the village: after Da Qingshan's parents had perished in an avalanche caused by the mountain god, the mountain god had chosen Da Qingshan as his heir, commanding the carnivorous animals to come and surrender themselves before him, allowing Da Qingshan to feast upon them—otherwise, how could there be no signs of injury on any animal? Since then, fewer and fewer people dared to approach Da Qingshan.
As the cold winter passed, the orphan who should have starved to death had instead grown much stronger than the average village child due to the abundant food. His old clothes were torn, and the boy fashioned himself new garments by cutting up the cured pelts, using animal bones as needles and sinews as thread to sew for himself.
That summer, the tale of the mountain god's heir was confirmed once again: after disappearing for several days, Da Qingshan returned to the village, and people noticed a little green dog beside him. This dog walked on two legs, and every animal that saw it immediately lost control of itself, trembling uncontrollably—what other dog but the mountain god's hound could command such awe?