Forging Immortality: The Undying Blacksmith

Chapter 62: The Tiger Cub

Old Man Sun could only stare, his jaw slack, as Li Qing hefted the massive tiger onto his shoulder in one fluid motion.

Just as he was about to leave, his sharp hearing caught a faint, almost imperceptible stirring from within the tiger’s den.

“Hm?”

Li Qing turned, his gaze sweeping towards the source of the sound. It came from a pile of mangled cubs, crushed under the python’s coils. Miraculously, one of them still clung to a flicker of life.

He walked over, the dead tigress a monstrous weight on his back. There, amidst the flattened bodies of its siblings, was a single cub, its breathing shallow and weak. If left here, it wouldn’t last the hour.

Li Qing frowned at the round-headed creature, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. What was he supposed to do with this?

As if sensing his indecision, the tiny tiger nudged its head forward, dragging itself with immense effort in Li Qing’s direction. Carrying its mother, Li Qing was saturated with her scent, a beacon of comfort for the newborn cub whose eyes had barely opened to the world.

He let out a quiet breath. “Your mother’s leg was shattered in the fight with the serpent. She was already dead,” he murmured, more to himself than the cub. “I just hurried it along.”

“I’ll take you with me. Let’s hope you don’t grow up to resent me for it.”

With that, Li Qing unfastened his iron armor. He gently scooped up the cub with one hand and tucked it securely inside the front of his shirt, against his chest.

“Aow…”

The cub poked its head out, letting out a soft, mewling cry.

Carrying one large tiger and one small one, Li Qing started back.

Old Man Sun, who had been hiding behind a tree, finally emerged, his voice filled with awe. “Young brother, you are truly formidable! To take down a tiger with your bare hands… such heroic spirit!”

Li Qing merely shook his head, dismissing the flattery. “Enough. Let’s get back.”

The rocky den now held only the small corpses and the ruined carcass of the giant python. He had no interest in them. All he could think about was returning to begin his great brewing enterprise.

The trek back was grueling. It was well past midnight when they finally reached the outskirts of Cuishan Village.

The moment Li Qing, with the tiger on his shoulder, neared the entrance, the village’s hunting dogs erupted in a cacophony of savage barks and panicked howls.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

“Grrr-woof!”

It wasn’t a threat they recognized, but an ancient, primal scent that clung to Li Qing—the scent of the mountain’s fallen king. It drove the village hounds into a frenzy of terror.

Soon, oil lamps flickered to life, one by one, as the village hunters were jolted from their sleep.

“Why is Erchai barking like he’s seen a ghost? Did something come down from the mountain?”

“Grab your bow, let’s check it out!”

“Go, go! That’s not a normal bark!”

A crowd of men holding torches and weapons began to converge on the village entrance, their faces tense with alarm.

But then, from the edge of the forest, Old Man Sun’s voice boomed out. “Don’t be alarmed! We’re back from the hunt!”

“That’s Old Man Sun’s voice!”

“Strange… What could he have hunted to make the dogs lose their minds like this?”

As the villagers murmured amongst themselves, they witnessed a sight that would be seared into their memories for the rest of their lives.

A colossal, striped tiger emerged from the darkness. As the torchlight washed over it, the hunters saw that it was being carried on the shoulders of a single, plain-faced young man, who strode into the village as if carrying nothing more than a sack of grain.

A collective gasp cut through the night. Hearts hammered against ribs.

The hunting dogs fell silent instantly, tucking their tails between their legs and whining, trembling where they stood.

This man had hunted a Mountain Lord! And carried it back himself! Judging by its sheer bulk, it had to weigh well over five hundred pounds—a tiger in its absolute prime.

“Hahahaha, no need to be afraid!” Old Man Sun boomed, beaming with pride. “Brother Li is a man of incredible valor! A mere tiger is no match for him!”

In a primal place like Cuishan Village, strength was the only currency that truly mattered. The villagers, most of them hunters, understood better than anyone the sheer terror of a full-grown tiger in its element. It was a beast to be avoided at all costs.

To see one hunted and brought back like this… Li Qing was no longer just a man. He was a force of nature. Their gazes were filled with a new, profound awe.

The eyes of the village’s unmarried women, in particular, now burned with a fervent heat whenever they looked his way.

From that night on, the story of Li Qing the Tiger-Slayer became legend in Cuishan Village.

Li Qing stayed at Old Man Sun’s house that night. Hauling the tiger for so many miles had taxed even his formidable stamina, but thankfully, the journey had been uneventful. The potent aura of the dead predator had cleared their path, warning away any other beasts that might have lurked in the darkness.

After finding a nursing hound to feed the cub, Li Qing settled down with the tiny creature curled against him and rested through the night.

By dawn, Old Man Sun’s son had worked tirelessly to skin and butcher the tiger. As they had agreed, Li Qing took only the few sections of tiger bone he required, leaving the rest for the Sun family. He also gave the old hunter fifty taels of silver as payment for his guidance. It was a sum large enough to free the Sun family from the hunter’s life, enough to send their children to Shengtian for a proper education.

And so, leaving a legend in his wake, Li Qing boarded a carriage and began his journey back to Shengtian.

***

Li Qing had barely departed when, deep within Xiaocui Ridge, a figure blurred through the forest canopy with unnatural speed.

A closer look would have stolen the breath from any mortal, for the figure wasn’t running. He stood upon a gleaming sword, weaving through the ancient trees as if gravity were a mere suggestion. This was Sword Riding.

The immortal-like figure descended beside the rock-strewn tiger den, and his face instantly darkened.

*Pa!*

He was a young man with an otherworldly air, clad in immaculate white Daoist robes that marked him as someone far removed from the mortal coil. He tapped a small, brown brocade pouch at his waist. In a shimmer of light, a second tiger appeared from thin air. This one was even larger, more majestic, and its aura was terrifyingly potent.

The moment it materialized, the great tiger saw the dead cubs in the den. A sound of pure, emotional anguish ripped from its throat—a roar of grief and fury.

“AOOOOHR!”

The roar was a physical force, a shockwave that tore through the clearing and stripped leaves from the surrounding trees.

“Sigh… If tiger-type Demon Beasts weren’t so rare, I never would have allowed you to mate with a common beast,” the young man lamented, stroking the massive tiger’s head in consolation. “To think, a litter was finally born, and they all died before I could even check for a hint of a Demon Beast bloodline.”

“Eh?”

The man’s eyes caught something. He walked quickly to the back of the den and found the mangled, colossal corpse of the python.

“So that’s what happened. Attacked by a great serpent. An ordinary one, but it must have lived for nearly a century to reach this size.” His eyes lit up. “This serpent’s gall, however… it’s a fine prize. It will serve as a potent ingredient for my Beast Nourishing Pills. The trip wasn’t a complete waste, then.”

As he spoke, he summoned his flying sword. With a flick of his wrist, the blade shot forward, neatly slicing open the python’s belly. A fist-sized, emerald-green gall bladder was revealed, pulsing with a faint light.

With a nod of satisfaction, he recalled the Demon Beast into the pouch. A moment later, he was back on his sword, a streak of white light vanishing into the deep woods.