Dao of Money-Chapter 119: Wolves of fur

Chen Ren walked through the stairs to the rampart with the mortal sect member. The young man followed him silently, but their shared silence was loud with what was going on up ahead.

Even from here, he could hear the chaotic medley rising above the walls—crackling gunfire, beastly howls, and, through it all, the unexpected cheers of mortals standing their ground.

The sound didn’t reassure him. If anything, it made him wary.

Had the guns really performed that well? He doubted it. He remembered the power of the beasts too vividly from the first day of the rising. The beasts had torn through the defenses, their blood-drenched hides almost impervious to anything short of higher realmed cultivator attacks. On the first day, their rifles had worked well enough to wound, maybe kill a few weaker monsters, but certainly not something that ranked tier two.

Still, something had changed. The cheering. The occasional pauses of the fire. The lack of panic. That all meant the guns were working, at least more than he had expected.

And the entire thing was no small feat. His sect’s power had risen in the last few weeks because of these weapons. Production was limited now—every musket, every bullet, took time, effort, and materials they could scarcely afford to waste—but the framework was in place. Sooner or later, Chen Ren knew they’d produce enough to arm every mortal in the sect.

That thought alone sent a good-kind-of-shiver through him.

He reached the top of the rampart and paused, one hand resting on the parapet as he took in the battlefield below and understood the reason for the cheering. His brows lifted.

Below him, a line of mortals in sect robes crouched behind makeshift cover, smoke curling from the barrels of their muskets. They were firing at a pack of mid-sized wolves—red and black-furred pups. Each time a bullet struck true, the impact sent a pup sprawling with a yelp that was cut short mid-air. Blood pooled in the dirt where they fell.

But not every shot struck home.

Chen Ren’s gaze followed a young disciple who fired with a tremble in his shoulders. The musket kicked back, but the shot flew wide—a clean miss. The wolf pup lunged, only to be brought down by another shot from further down the line.

Chen Ren winced. Too many wasted bullets.

They were learning, yes, but most hadn’t drilled enough. Only a handful had spent real time in the training range, refining their stance and aim. The others still flinched when they pulled the trigger, blinking smoke out of their eyes, shocked by the sound and recoil.

They'd get better. They had to. Bullets weren't cheap. Every miss cost more than just a coin—it cost time and sweat.

He pulled his gaze away from the firing line, turning it beyond the mass of pups—past the blood, past the makeshift barricades—and finally saw what had truly set the battlefield in motion.

Two towering wolves stood at the rear—Bloodback alphas, their stance looked like shadows drenched in rusted crimson. Thick tufts of black-streaked fur bristled as they growled, eyes burning with feral rage.

They were here to hunt the humans and two men stood in their way.

Claws scraped against stone as one leapt forward, aiming for a figure darting across the wall’s edge—Li Xuan, blade flashing as he barely avoided being torn in half. At his flank, Little Yuze twisted in the air while perched on his back was Zi Wen, musket in hand, steady despite the bucking movement.

Zi Wen aimed low and fired. A crack rang out. The wolf reeled with anger. Blood splattered its snout, but it didn’t slow.

Chen Ren narrowed his eyes. At a glance, he could tell.

The two wolves weren’t random tier twos. They were a pair. Mated. And the pups being slaughtered on the battlefield were their children. And each time a pup was gunned down, the alphas howled. Their low howl echoed through the hills like mourning turned to fury, and they lunged harder.

Both Li Xuan and Zi Wen fought as if they were about to face death. Lightning crackled along Li Xuan’s blade as he clashed head-on with the larger of the two bloodback alphas. The beast’s claw came down, but the man lifted his sword and swung it, sending sparks arcing into the air as the force rattled through his arm. He slid back a pace, and Chen Ren saw how his boots dug into the dirt, but the man held.

Across from him, the she-wolf lunged at Little Yuze, only to meet resistance. Zi Wen from behind gritted his teeth, fired another shot, and hit the she-wolf square in the snout. The beast reeled but didn’t fall. Blood dripped from its muzzle, but its fury only deepened.

Chen Ren narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t expected Li Xuan to be defending them. Last he’d heard, the man had stayed behind after losing his duel, retreating into solitude. He had holed himself up in a room cultivating as if trying to drown his defeat in qi.

And yet here he is, Chen Ren thought, watching him deflect another claw strike. Holding the line. It was a good thing too. Without him, the rampart would’ve already been torn apart.

He folded his arms, thoughts shifting. He didn’t want to call on Yalan, Qing He, or even Hong Yi and his puppets—not yet.

From the edge of the rampart, a voice broke his thoughts.

“You’re late,” Yalan said.

He turned toward it and saw her perched on the rampart. He hadn’t noticed when she arrived—but then again, he rarely did when it came to Yalan.

“But I suppose it was worth it. You’ve reached the eight-star qi refinement realm, haven’t you?”

Chen Ren exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah. It almost felt like my body was breaking.”

“It might just. You're pushing too hard. Even a cup breaks if you pour a waterfall into it.”

Her words hit home. Chen Ren’s gaze drifted down the battleground again, his expression tightening.

That was one of his worries these days. After the Gate of Immortals had revealed itself, he’d spoken more with the head—more than he ever had before—especially about the Dao of Money.

Unfortunately, the head hadn’t even heard of such a Dao.

The conversation had shifted instead—to legends about the golden dragon, to whispers passed down through scrolls and dreams. And, eventually, to Chen Ren himself.

The head had warned him. "Progression like yours is rare. Unnatural. One day, your body might not keep up."

He knew it could be true. But for now, he hadn’t felt anything wrong—not yet. But the words struck with him, growing louder each time he broke through. Especially with the amount of pain that followed.

And the only one who might truly understand was the dragon itself. Which was why he had so many questions that he wanted to ask.

He glanced at Yalan. “I saw it today.”

Yalan purred, licking her lips and stared back at Chen Ren. “Did you talk?”

“No. It looked… weak. Faded. And so, so tired—”

Before she could press further and he could tell whole, a deep, snarling howl ripped through the air, louder than any before. Chen Ren’s head snapped toward the front lines just in time to see Little Yuze cry out, blood flaring as a claw slashed across his face, forcing him backward. Zi Wen tumbled from his shoulder, musket clattering against the stone as he hit the ground with a grunt and didn’t rise.

On the left flank, Li Xuan’s stance faltered, the weight of the male alpha’s strikes growing heavier with each blow. It wasn’t that he was growing weaker. It was the wolves that had changed.

Chen Ren’s eyes swept over the field—and saw it.

The pups were gone. Every last one of them—slain, broken, still. The bloodback alphas were no longer just fighting.

They were mourning. And they were enraged.

Fuck. This is bad.

He turned toward Yalan. “I’ll tell you later.”

Without another word, he leapt from the wall.

Lightning flared at his heels and the wind roared in his ears as he descended. His eyes were fixed on the she-wolf-mid-charge. Its crimson-streaked claws arced forward, aimed to finish Little Yuze once and for all.

But Chen Ren struck first.

He dipped low, momentum surging through him like a crashing tide, and slid beneath the beast's strike, palm surging upward with precision. His lightning-clad hand slammed into its ribcage, a dull crack echoing out as the force knocked the wolf sideways, claws tearing grooves in the earth as it skidded to a stop several steps away.

Dust rose around them.

Chen Ren straightened, eyes cold, and glanced back toward Zi Wen as he reached Little Yuze’s side. “Get him treated. I'll handle it.”

Zi Wen didn’t need to be told twice. He nodded and dragged himself toward Yuze, beginning to apply basic healing powder from his pouch even as the bonded beast protested faintly.

Chen Ren didn’t look again. His attention returned to the she-wolf who was now staggering to its feet.

And up-close, it was easier to see—the red and black, matted fur, now thick with blood, snow and soot, the hardened muscle that was twitching beneath torn skin. One of its eyes was bloodshot, and there was a wound just below it from a glancing shot. It was obvious that the injuries weren’t fatal, but they had been carved lethally. But it still looked ready to take on a hundred men.

Was it rage? The need for revenge? Or was it because they were naturally resistant?

Chen Ren exhaled at the thought and the qi within him surged.

His breakthrough to eight-star had brought with it a new clarity, a tautness to his meridians, a density in his qi. And now, he would test it.

Without hesitation, he moved.

Lightning coiled tighter around him, not wild but refined—condensed. It arced across his chest and shoulders as he charged.

“Grrrrr!”

The she-wolf reacted. Its hind legs tensed and she sprang to the side, narrowly avoiding the downward punch Chen Ren had aimed at her spine. Her claws lashed out in retaliation, a streak of motion too quick for most mortals to follow.

But not for him.

He pivoted mid-strike. Starlight burst across his skin, a shimmering pale-blue glow wrapping his forearm just as the claws connected. Claws scraped against qi-forged resistance.

He gritted his teeth, caught the beast’s paw mid-swipe, and with a growl of his own, heaved it over his shoulder, sending it careening through the air.

Its body collided with a tree at the base of the slope, the wood groaning before splintering from the impact. The wolf let out a choked whimper, rolling onto its side as it struggled to stand.

Behind him, a sharp, aching howl broke through the haze.

Chen Ren didn’t turn. That’ll be the male, he thought. Li Xuan… I’ll leave that one to you.

He surged forward again.

The female had barely pushed its upright, thick ropes of muscle along its limbs twitching as she faced him once more. Her mouth opened wide, fangs bared—she lunged.

Chen Ren stepped into her charge, planted his feet, and caught the beast by its jaws.

Teeth inches from his throat.

His hands locked onto either side of the she-wolf’s gaping maw, and before it could clamp shut, lightning erupted from his dantian—wild, unrelenting, a pure storm crashing outward in all directions.

[Lightning Frenzy!]

The blast created a white flash in the battlefield. The wolf’s body convulsed in his grip, its limbs jerking violently as the current tore through the muscles, down the spine, and into the ground. It made no sound, only a broken gasp before its body collapsed at his feet, steam rising from the fur. The belly contracted deeply, showing off its ribcage.

Chen Ren stood over it, chest rising and falling, fingers still sparking faintly. He didn’t celebrate. Didn’t speak.

He simply turned, eyes narrowing, as the next howl rose in the air—this one deeper, louder, closer.

The male. It was still coming. And this time, it wasn’t howling in grief. It was howling for blood.

The she-wolf twitched.

Its body lay broken, smoldering where lightning had torn through muscle and bone, but even now, it struggled. Claws scraped faintly at the earth, legs trembling as it tried to rise.

Chen Ren watched in silence.

There was no glory in this. No pride in seeing a once-fierce creature reduced to this fragile motion, barely clinging to life. For a breath, he felt something shift in his chest—a weight, not of pity, but something quieter—guilt.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

But it passed.

He had fought too many battles in the last year. He had bled and endured and steeled his heart enough to know that mercy had no place here. Not anymore.

Without another word, he raised his hand.

A single strike—quick and clean.

Lightning pulsed through his palm, and the she-wolf’s head burst in a flash of force and light. No more twitching. No more suffering. Just stillness. He knew that was the best gift he could give—a quiet death.

Behind him, a hoarse roar came.

Chen Ren turned just in time to see the male bloodback wolf charging forward, red eyes locked onto him like burning coals. Its body, larger than its mate’s, moved like a boulder in a landslide, claws outstretched and jaws wide.

Behind it, Li Xuan followed, panting but unyielding, sword flashing as he tried to close the gap. But the beast reached Chen Ren first. Its claw came down fast.

There wasn’t enough time to dodge. But there didn’t need to be.

A thin shimmer sparked to life around Chen Ren’s body—the faint outline of his defensive technique, like a second skin. The claw struck, and energy flared, absorbing the brunt of the impact.

Chen Ren’s eyes narrowed. In the next instant, lightning surged down his legs.

He crouched low, planted his foot, and then launched himself upward, driving his heel directly into the wolf’s chest with all the force. The impact sent the beast flying backward through the air, its massive form spinning above Li Xuan’s head. The cultivator ducked, barely avoiding the flailing limbs, and rolled to the side as the beast crashed into the earth with a pained snarl.

Chen Ren didn’t wait.

Before it could recover, he was already moving—lightning crackling, qi condensed and singing through his blood as he descended on the wounded alpha.

The beast twisted on the ground, desperate, half-curled in pain. Its forearm swept out, claws aiming wildly in an attempt to catch him—But Chen Ren was faster.

He dipped beneath the swipe, fists coiling with power. His knuckles struck just below the creature’s jaw, a clean, sharp punch to the throat.

The beast let out a strangled sound as the force of the blow sank in, and then lightning burst outward from Chen Ren’s fist—driving deep, tearing through bone and tissue.

The wolf convulsed once. Then went still.

For a moment, only the low crackle of spent energy remained. Smoke drifted from the wound. His arm still tingled from the release of force.

Chen Ren straightened, slowly breathing through the adrenaline.

He looked down at the beast’s corpse. Both wolves—now lifeless at his feet—had been stronger than most. Even the male, who had withstood Li Xuan for far longer than Chen Ren expected, had only barely pushed him.

He exhaled through his nose, letting the last embers of lightning fade across his skin. Mid-tier two, at the very least. The male... perhaps just shy of the peak. And yet, he thought, flexing his fingers, it hadn’t felt like a real fight. No strain. No real pressure.

Power still surged in his veins, thrumming beneath his skin like a river waiting to burst. This had only been a warm-up.

A single breakthrough could shift the scales of battle. He had just proven that.

Before he could drift too far into thought, a ripple of noise drew him back.

Cheers.

It started softly—a few voices from the wall, scattered like distant bells—but it grew. Soon, it became a tide of voices, rising over the rampart as his sect members raised their muskets in the air, some pounding fists against the stone. Even the villagers who had clung to cover minutes ago now leaned forward, their faces flushed with awe and adrenaline.

They were cheering for him.

Chen Ren blinked, pulled out of himself.

His gaze swept across the rampart until it landed on Yalan perched low. She didn’t clap. Didn’t smile.

Instead, her amber eyes were focused on him. Whatever was going through her mind was not good, Chen Ren just knew.

Before he could read more into it, another voice cut through the noise.

“How…?”

Chen Ren turned.

Li Xuan stood a few paces behind, sword still in hand, breath visible in the cold air. His brow was furrowed, but more than that—his eyes were wide, face flushed red, mouth slightly parted as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle that refused to fit.

“How did you get so much stronger in such a short time? Were you hiding your strength?” he asked again.

For a moment, Chen Ren felt a pang.

Had he just widened Li Xuan’s wall?

“I made progress in my Dao,” he said.

Li Xuan stared at him. "You got enlightenment... just sitting around?"

His voice had an edge now—half disbelief, half the brittle weight of someone questioning their own path.

Chen Ren offered a wry smile. “My Dao’s a bit... special. It’s more abstract than most. Hard to explain.”

That, at least, was half-true.

His Dao wasn’t truly abstract. If anything, it was the most grounded concept imaginable. But it was powerful—deceptively so—and even now, he didn’t fully understand it himself. Some parts still slipped through his grasp like water through fingers.

But Li Xuan didn’t need to know that.

Neither did the others.

Let them think it was something vague and mysterious. Let them underestimate it. That was safer—for everyone.

Li Xuan didn’t respond. Not immediately. His eyes drifted toward the bodies of the wolves, then down at his sword. The expression on his face shifted—like someone standing on the edge of something vast, unsure if they should step forward or retreat.

Before the moment could stretch too long, another voice broke in.

“Hey.”

Zi Wen approached, limping slightly but steady, with Little Yuze leaning against his side. Its eyes were dim, and tongue out panting.

Zi Wen glanced at the corpses, then at Chen Ren, then whistled low. “You didn’t leave much for us.”

Chen Ren’s gaze dropped to Little Yuze.

“He’s okay?”

Zi Wen nodded. “Yeah. he’ll be fine. Recovery’s already sped up a lot.” He smiled faintly, patting him on the back. “Just needs some rest and a bit of salve. No bones broken.”

Yuze sank to the ground with a whimper.

Chen Ren let out a quiet breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Chen Ren gave Zi Wen a small nod, but his eyes weren’t on him anymore.

They had drifted toward the ground, where the bodies of the wolf pups lay scattered—small, fragile things compared to the adult beasts. Their red-and-black fur still shimmered faintly in the dim light, and for a brief moment, it was hard to look at them as monsters.

They hadn’t howled like their parents. They hadn’t really fought. Most had run. A few had lunged on instinct, maybe out of fear, maybe in confusion.

And now, they were still.

Killed by bullets.

He felt something twist in his chest. A quiet sadness that pulsed like a bruise beneath the ribs. They were just following their parents. They never got the chance to grow.

He hated that part of this world. Of any world.

The moment hung between them until Zi Wen’s voice broke the silence.

“You don’t have to feel bad, Sect Leader Chen,” he said, stepping closer and following his gaze. “These are bloodback wolves. Nasty ones. They’re not like other beasts.”

Chen Ren glanced at him, and Zi Wen continued.

“They suck blood from anything they catch—humans, animals, even other monsters. That’s how they grow stronger. We’ve lost hunters to them before, deeper in the forest. They don’t just kill—they feed. And they enjoy it.”

He jerked his thumb toward Little Yuze.

“Even he doesn’t like them.”

Chen Ren’s gaze softened as it flicked briefly toward Yuze, who snorted faintly and looked away. freewebnøvel.coɱ

He nodded. Slowly. “I know.”

But the weight in his chest didn’t vanish. It never did, not completely. Still, he understood. This was the way of the world.

Power ruled. Mercy came second. Sometimes last. And no matter how he felt about it, the wolf pups would’ve grown into killers, just like their parents. There was nothing he could change now.

With that thought pressed down, he turned, and they began walking.

Together, the four of them—Chen Ren, Li Xuan, Zi Wen, and Yuze—made their way back up to the rampart. As they crested the steps, the scene above had already shifted.

Villagers lined the stone path.

Some injured, others dirty and soot-covered, but all standing. And as the group stepped into view, the people bowed. Quietly at first, then more openly as they passed.

Chen Ren felt their gazes at his back.

Then, as if appearing from the crowd itself, Chief Muyang moved towards them.

He bowed low, deeper than the others, and straightened only when he spoke.

“Thank you for your service, Sect Leader Chen,” he said. His voice was rough but sincere. “If not for you… we wouldn’t have been able to hold against those bloodbacks. Our hunters have feared them for generations.”

Chen Ren met his gaze and shook his head lightly.

“It’s alright, Chief. This is our duty. We live in this village too.”

Li Xuan, standing just behind, gave a faint nod and added, “A righteous cultivator always helps those in need. They were only beasts.”

But Chief Muyang didn’t move. His hands remained clasped, and his eyes shone with quiet intensity.

“Still,” he said, “for someone to fight for our lives… It is not a small thing. Everyone will remember this.”

Chen Ren said nothing to that. Just offered a faint, awkward smile. Praise had never sat well with him. He’d done what needed to be done. That was all. But then the chief’s gaze flicked past him, toward the rampart’s edge—to the corpses of the fallen wolves.

His brow furrowed. “By the way… what are you planning to do with the bloodback bodies?”

Chen Ren followed Chief Muyang’s gaze toward the corpses of the bloodback wolves.

“Harvest,” he said simply. “Some of their organs might be useful in alchemy. Beasts store qi in strange ways—there’s value in that.”

Chief Muyang gave a thoughtful nod but didn’t stop there.

“What about the fur?” he asked. “This winter’s been cruel. Too cruel. A few of the wealthier families in the village have already come to me asking for ways to keep warm—some of them said they’re willing to pay good coin if they can get their hands on wolf-fur coats.”

Chen Ren blinked at that.

“Fur coats?” he echoed, half to himself.

He glanced back at the bloodback’s body—its thick, rugged hide still mostly intact despite the battle. The coarse fur, dense and sharp, shimmered faintly red in places where qi had warped the color. It wasn’t beautiful, exactly. But it was striking. Memorable. And more importantly—durable.

And just like that, an idea sparked. Not just a one-time harvest. Not just pelts for profit. A business.

***

A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon. Annual subscription is now on too. Also this is Volume 2 last chapter.

Read 15 chapters ahead HERE.

Join the discord server HERE.

Magus Reborn is OUT NOW. It's a progression fantasy epic featuring a detailed magic system, kingdom building, and plenty of action. Read here.

Visit freewe𝑏no(v)el.𝘤𝑜𝓂 for the best novel reading experi𝒆nce