Chapter 073: The Ridge of Abandonment

Hearing the Thunderbeast's cry, Luo Chong turned and saw it still trying to stand on its mangled limbs, fiercely protecting its swollen belly. There wasn't a single wound on its stomach, protected even at the cost of its own limbs.

With Luo Chong's gaze upon it, the Thunderbeast let out a roar that seemed to drain all its remaining strength, its body trembling slightly.

Thud—a heavy sound resonated as the Thunderbeast's bloated belly suddenly deflated. Luo Chong's eyes widened in disbelief. The beast had endured all that suffering to protect its unborn child. The cold wind blew, but Luo Chong felt a warmth inside him, and his own wounds seemed less painful, knowing his efforts were worthwhile.

Although it was not raining, Luo Chong's eyes were moist. Through his blurred vision, he watched as the Thunderbeast, using its last bit of energy, slowly shifted its body to face its newborn calf. With tender affection, it licked the calf's amniotic sac clean, each gentle stroke clearing the filth from its baby's body.

The calf, eyes still closed, wiggled slightly, seemingly comforted by its mother's touch, unaware of the imminent departure of its mother.

As the sac was cleaned, the mother beast raised its head and looked directly at Luo Chong with a plea in its eyes. Tears of blood trickled down from its eyes, dropping onto the calf, each tear a mixture of love and reluctance but mostly a sense of finality.

The mother beast then nudged the calf towards Luo Chong with its horn, its battered legs collapsing into a kneel, its blood-red eyes locked on him with a plea that brooked no refusal.

"Alright, I promise you, I'll take care of it, you can rest now," Luo Chong whispered, wiping the ice-cold tears from his eyes. He wrapped the calf in his tattered cloak, collected his bow and spear, and cradled the young Thunderbeast in his arms, turning back towards the cave.

The mother closed her eyes forever as Luo Chong lifted her child.

The slope, later named by Luo Chong as 'The Ridge of Abandonment,' bore witness to a young man with two blood-streaked trails on his back, staggering eastward through the snow, leaving deep footprints behind.

"Damn, this thing's heavy. Must weigh over 100 kilos already. Can I return it? MMP…" Luo Chong muttered under his breath, grappling with the calf's weight, eventually making it back to the cave, exhausted from the fight and his injuries.

The cave entrance was splattered with fresh blood; three wolves lay pierced with many holes, their bodies a testament to the tribe's vigilance.

Seeing their chief return injured and shirtless, the tribespeople hurried to assist him. "Chief, are you alright? Did enemies do this to you? Let's go get them," said Feather, rushing to Luo Chong's side, draping his own cloak over him.

"I'm fine, just ran into the rest of the wolves. Had a bit of a scuffle, let a few get away. Look after this little one for me, don't harm it; we're going to raise it," Luo Chong instructed, handing the calf to two women, then sat down exhaustedly, grabbing a handful of snow to suck on.

"Chief, those wolves didn't escape. We heard howling from your direction, and soon three wolves came running here, but we took care of them," Stone reported, handing Luo Chong a water skin.

With the crisis resolved, Luo Chong explained what had happened, particularly the story of the Thunderbeast's sacrifice. The tale left many silent, the men seemingly indifferent due to their daily brushes with death during hunts, while the women, empathetic to the motherly affection, wiped tears from their eyes.

Deciding to honor the mother beast, Luo Chong planned to bury her on the ridge, a decision unanimously supported by the women and unopposed by the men, who typically would have seen it as a waste of potential food.

With the day's objectives achieved—salt mines scouted and predators dealt with—Luo Chong led the preparation to secure the cave entrance and transport the wolf carcasses back to the tribe. The story of the Thunderbeast and its last act of maternal sacrifice spread among the tribespeople, especially touching the hearts of the children, who came to see the newborn.

Most herbivorous animals are resilient, with young able to stand and feed soon after birth, but the calf was clearly premature, born perhaps a month early. Usually, herbivores birth in the warm, food-abundant seasons of spring and summer to ensure higher survival rates for their young.

This calf, still blind and unable to stand after half a day, struggled for life, its condition far from the robustness typically seen in newborn herbivores.