SWORD OF THE DEMON WOLF

The Blood Moon Phenomenon

The man, more than a hundred years old, hurried out of the cave. His eyes widened as he looked up and saw the moon glowing a deep crimson.

“What kind of phenomenon is this? Why has the moonlight turned red like blood?” he murmured to himself.

Moments later, the crimson light from the moon narrowed into a concentrated beam and shot downward at the speed of light.

Zhang Wei was stunned. He suddenly remembered—the point where the red moonlight was falling was exactly where Xiao Chen was meditating to awaken the power within his body.

Not wanting anything to happen to the only disciple he had ever trained, Zhang Wei called Benggala to accompany him to the waterfall where Xiao Chen was meditating.

The two of them darted into the darkness of night. Despite being twice the size of an ordinary wolf, Benggala’s running speed surpassed even the finest horse.

In addition, Benggala’s ability to see in the dark was another great advantage—a natural gift for a nocturnal hunter.

About an hour later, they reached the vicinity of the waterfall. The place should have been pitch-black, but instead, a wide area was illuminated in red—the glow spreading from the concentrated beam of moonlight.

Zhang Wei could not hide his astonishment. Even from thirty meters away, he could clearly see the crimson moonlight centered directly on Xiao Chen, whose body was being pounded by the waterfall.

Curious about Xiao Chen’s condition, Zhang Wei stepped closer. But when he reached the last ten meters to the pool’s edge, his body suddenly felt heavy, as though weighed down, making it difficult to move forward.

“What’s going on?” the old man muttered under his breath. Never in his life had he experienced something like this. Even when facing murderous auras from formidable enemies in the past, he could always overcome them without much trouble.

He stared at Xiao Chen’s figure, though the young man’s body could no longer be seen clearly—completely engulfed in the blinding crimson light. Even the water in the pool had turned red.

Not wanting to risk himself, Zhang Wei chose to sit cross-legged and wait to see what would happen next. He was certain this phenomenon had not yet reached its climax.

About an hour later, exactly at midnight, a burst of energy exploded from Xiao Chen’s body. It made no sound, yet the pressure was overwhelming. Zhang Wei had to channel his own inner energy to avoid being thrown back.

The dominance of the crimson glow vanished instantly, along with the moon itself disappearing from the sky. The energy burst defied the laws of gravity—water that should have been falling down the waterfall now reversed direction, streaming upward until the pool beneath was completely drained.

Zhang Wei was dumbfounded. In all his life, he had never witnessed anything so strange.

“Could it really be like that?” he murmured, mind racing to connect the reversed blood flow in Xiao Chen’s body with the upward rush of water. Both were phenomena unheard of in the natural world.

When the energy pressure finally dissipated, Zhang Wei heard a rumbling above the cliff. He knew the water would soon crash down again—this time dragging rocks and debris with it.

The old man darted forward, scooping up the unconscious Xiao Chen before he could be buried beneath the falling rubble. The young man’s senses were completely shut down; he was unaware of anything happening to him.

In less than a second, Zhang Wei had carried Xiao Chen far from the waterfall. Sure enough, moments later, a torrent of water mixed with large and small rocks came crashing down, filling the now-empty pool.

Not wasting any time, Zhang Wei brought Xiao Chen’s body back to the cave.

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The next morning, Xiao Chen still showed no sign of waking from his trance. He remained lost in deep meditation, unaware that he was now lying inside the cave.

Zhang Wei gazed at Xiao Chen’s body resting on a broad, flat rock he often used for sleeping. The man who had once shaken the martial world was now completely puzzled by what had happened to his disciple.

First—if it had taken him three weeks to awaken his own inner power in the past, Xiao Chen had managed it in only one week. Second—the blood-red moon, focusing its light solely on the young man. Third—the defiance of natural gravity. And finally—Xiao Chen’s continued unconsciousness, along with the strange blue glow emanating from the cloth bundle.

These four peculiarities had never occurred when Zhang Wei awakened his own power, and that alone left countless questions in his mind.

Meanwhile, the bizarre event of the previous night had been witnessed by nearly everyone who was still awake until midnight. The moon’s high position allowed any pair of eyes to see the phenomenon clearly—especially martial artists from all factions.

The nearest village, about three kilometers from the waterfall, was abuzz with rumors. Some men on night patrol had clearly heard the rumbling explosion, followed by the blood-red glow of the moon.

From them, the story spread rapidly, causing great commotion in the village. In today’s terms, it would have been called “viral”—spreading swiftly to other nearby settlements.

Two days after the “Blood Moon Phenomenon,” as the locals called it, the village had become a gathering point for martial artists from all walks of life, eager to investigate.

According to martial world legend, strange celestial phenomena were often considered special omens—either signaling the appearance of a powerful sacred weapon or the birth of an extraordinary martial artist destined to shake the world.

Both orthodox and unorthodox sects sent their best people to confirm the matter. If it truly was the appearance of a divine weapon, whoever obtained it would gain immense power.

The second possibility was the birth of a prodigy. Martial artists also came to check if any woman had given birth at the exact time of the event.

But unlike the martial artists, common villagers—unfamiliar with such legends—interpreted it as a sign of an impending plague. Fearing the worst, they began preparing for the disaster they believed would soon come.

At the largest eatery in the village, a group of six men dressed entirely in red with black headbands were in a heated argument with several others dressed in white uniforms. Some had even drawn their swords, ready to fight.