The lone wolf paid no attention to the sounds of the birds. It approached a young boy’s body, sat down and sniffed. Then it gave a long and sorrowful howl which made the birds grow quiet.
The young boy’s face was pale but stern, with many scratches across his body. His clothes were ragged and a black dagger was tied to his waist. The dagger looked rusty and dull. The boy was completely lifeless.
The lone wolf stayed on his side and kept howling, as if it was begging for the heaven’s for mercy.
Perhaps, the heaven would answer its plea.
All of a sudden, the black rusty dagger quivered and a strange power stirred from within. An indescribable force sucked Xuanyuan’s spirit towards the dagger. He was startled but before he could react, his body no longer felt weightless.