The world seemed too quiet.
Even the stream, which had been babbling happily moments ago, now whispered faintly, as if afraid to draw attention.
Ashan stood frozen, the Heavenly Whip dangling loosely from his fingers. The Nightfang Wolf — the same beast that had just tried to tear into his herd — sat obediently before him like a well-trained hound.
"Master," it said again.
Its voice wasn't a growl. It was deep, clear, and carried a strange… respect.
Ashan rubbed his eyes. "Alright, either I hit my head on a rock, or I'm dreaming."
The wolf tilted its head, crimson eyes locked on him. "The Soul Contract has been formed. My life is yours, and yours is mine."
That made Ashan's stomach twist. "Whoa, whoa, whoa… I don't remember signing up for this! What contract? I didn't—"
"The whip," the wolf interrupted. "It carries the authority of Heaven. It binds beasts to the one who wields it."
Ashan looked down at the coiled cord in his hand. The red cloth handle was warm — warmer than it had ever been before.
"…Grandfather, what have you given me?" he muttered under his breath.
The wolf's ears twitched. "You are not a cultivator. How did you awaken the whip's seal?"
"I don't know! I was just—" Ashan stopped, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. "Look, I was just trying to stop you from eating that calf."
The wolf's gaze shifted to the small Stonehorn, which was still trembling behind Ashan. Its golden eyes narrowed. "That one… is not ordinary. There's power in its blood."
Ashan frowned. "Power? It's just a calf. It still tries to eat rocks and chokes on them."
The wolf didn't answer. Instead, it suddenly lowered its head — a gesture Ashan recognized from watching how beasts submitted to herd leaders.
The sight made his heart race. This was a Nightfang Wolf, a predator feared by hunters, bowing to him.
"Alright," Ashan said slowly, "if this is some kind of weird beast logic, fine. But you're not biting anything in my herd. Deal?"
"Deal."
For a brief moment, the tension eased. Ashan thought maybe he could just… walk back to the village, pretend none of this happened, and go back to napping in the sun.
But then the wind shifted again.
It was colder this time, carrying a metallic tang that made the hairs on his arms rise. The Stonehorn calf bleated sharply, stamping its hooves. The rest of the herd began to shuffle nervously.
From the treeline, a deep rumble rolled across the valley.
The Nightfang Wolf growled low. "They found us."
"Who?" Ashan asked, already knowing he wouldn't like the answer.
Before the wolf could respond, three figures stepped out from the shadows of the forest.
They weren't beasts. They were men — or at least, they looked like men at first glance. Their skin was pale, their eyes glowed faintly blue, and faint wisps of smoke curled from their bodies as if their flesh was smoldering from within.
Each carried a weapon — a hooked spear, a black bow, and a jagged blade that pulsed with sickly green light.
Ashan had never seen people like them, but the killing intent rolling off them was enough to make his legs feel heavy.
The one with the spear smiled, revealing sharp, inhuman teeth. "So… the Nightfang found a new master." His voice was smooth, but there was venom in every word.
Ashan's grip tightened on the whip. "I think you've got the wrong valley. This is—"
"—Forbidden land," the spear-wielder finished for him. "And everything in it belongs to the one who can claim it." His eyes shifted to the Stonehorn calf. "That includes the little prize you're protecting."
Ashan took a step back, heart pounding. "Listen, I'm just a shepherd. You can walk away now, and we can all—"
The man with the bow raised his weapon. "Shepherd or not, you hold the Heavenly Whip. That makes you worth killing."
Ashan felt the wolf tense beside him. Its voice slipped into his mind. "If you die, I die. So listen carefully: I will attack the archer. You keep the calf safe and strike anyone who comes near with the whip. The Whip's power will do the rest."
Ashan's throat went dry. "I'm not a fighter!"
"Then learn. Now."
The moment the wolf leapt, the valley erupted into chaos.
The archer's arrow hissed through the air, but the wolf was faster, its claws slashing the bow clean in two. The spear-wielder lunged at Ashan, but as the jagged tip neared his chest, he snapped the whip forward.
The crack split the air like lightning. Blue sparks danced along the cord, striking the spear and sending the man stumbling back with a snarl.
Ashan's heart was racing, but his hands moved without thinking. Again, the whip lashed out, forcing the attacker to retreat.
The third man — the one with the green-bladed sword — rushed past him, aiming for the calf. Ashan swung the whip sideways, the cord wrapping around the man's arm. The glow spread instantly, and the man screamed, dropping his sword as smoke rose from his skin.
In that moment, Ashan understood — the whip didn't just tame beasts. It burned away anything unworthy of touching what it protected.
The battle was short, but brutal. The attackers, realizing they couldn't overpower the whip and the wolf together, melted back into the trees, their voices carrying on the wind.
"This isn't over, shepherd."
When silence returned, Ashan was shaking. He dropped to his knees, gripping the whip like a lifeline.
The wolf padded up beside him. "You've made enemies today. Dangerous ones. They will come again."
Ashan looked at the calf, which was now staring at him with an unsettling awareness, as if it understood everything.
His peaceful life… was gone.