Chapter 18: The Bear Trembles, Food Comes Knocking

“Little Hammer, you’ve eaten my rations for half a month already! And it’s all dried meat, do you understand?”

Dragon Silver lifted the little creature onto a protruding stone and began his lecture. Man and beast, big eyes staring into smaller ones.

The little one wore an exceedingly humble expression, nodding at its tiny paw to show it really did understand.

Dragon Silver’s face darkened instantly; no matter how he tried to educate, the creature always maintained the same attitude—listening earnestly, never changing.

The Card Beast Compendium described the Mountain Hammer Bear as gentle, honest, and friendly to humans. At this moment, Dragon Silver deeply doubted the compendium’s account. The little fellow before him was cunning to its core.

When hungry, it never fussed or made noise, but simply looked at him with innocent eyes until he relented, helplessly handing over dried meat. The way its eyes sparkled as it received the treat made Dragon Silver rub his forehead. He had been wrong to assume that raising a card beast barely the size of his palm wouldn’t be a burden. In only three days, it had devoured half a month’s worth of dried meat. Three days—half a month! And, perhaps it was his imagination, but the little creature seemed to have grown larger. Where once a single piece sufficed, now dozens couldn’t fill its belly; its appetite had quickly scaled from pieces to whole bags.

There it was again—that innocent look: “I’m not full yet!”

One bag? Two bags!

Dragon Silver glared at it. “Can’t you eat a little less?”

“Awo awo~”—I’m already eating very little!

Dragon Silver was dumbfounded, the phrase “I’m already eating very little” echoing endlessly in his mind.

Since acquiring Little Hammer as a pet, Dragon Silver had keenly felt the pressure of survival in the wild! Finding food had become increasingly urgent. But after three days following the creek, he’d found nothing. The water remained clear, no creatures appeared nearby, and most baffling of all, not a single fruit grew by the riverbank. It was as if he were destined to eat into his supplies until nothing remained.

Watching the little one’s joyful expression as it ate, Dragon Silver grew furious. “If I don’t find food today, I’ll roast you for rations!”

Little Hammer, standing atop the stone, instantly stiffened its legs, ears standing straight, trembling as it extended a half-eaten piece of dried meat with its paw. “Awo awo~ awo awo~”—Don’t roast me, I—I—I’m full!

Dragon Silver’s mouth twitched. Reaching out, he watched the little creature reluctantly hand over the remaining half bag of dried meat. Tossing it into his storage space, Dragon Silver, satisfied, placed Little Hammer on his shoulder. Was it his imagination, or had the creature gotten heavier?

For the rest of the day, the little one ate very little. Though still unable to find anything edible, Dragon Silver had abandoned the idea of roasting his companion.

On the sixth day,

Dragon Silver awoke to find the little creature missing. Stepping out of the tent, he saw it returning with a branch in its mouth, which it deposited onto an already impressive pile of wood. Puzzled by its actions, Dragon Silver called out, “Little Hammer!”

The bear turned to retrieve another branch, occasionally glancing back at Dragon Silver with a mournful look. Dragon Silver was bewildered; had he done something?

“What are you doing?”

All he got in reply were those plaintive eyes.

Unable to find an answer, Dragon Silver ignored it and began his morning wash by the creek. When he returned, the creature had somehow dragged back a rusty iron tray and placed it atop the woodpile.

Dragon Silver was stunned. “Little Hammer, are you going to roast something?”

“Awo awo~”—Yes.

Dragon Silver’s face brightened. “You found food?”

“Awo awo~”—Yes.

“Where, where?” Dragon Silver looked around excitedly but saw nothing resembling food. Turning to his companion, he was both amused and annoyed. “What are you doing?”

“Awo awo~”—I’m starving, Master, just roast me!

The little bear lay on its back atop the iron tray, resigned to its fate.

Dragon Silver was quite exasperated. He lifted the creature off the tray, scowling. “If you’re going to be roasted, clean the tray first!” This little rascal had even learned to threaten him—did it think he’d spent all these years among amateurs?

Little Hammer hadn’t expected this response. Dazed, it grabbed the tray and tossed it into the creek, leaping onto it and scraping its paws across the surface while howling mournfully, sounding as forlorn as a child left without a mother in the cabbage field.

“Awo awo”—Bear steak~ bear steak~ Master wants bear steak~ Master wants bear steak~

Dragon Silver surrendered. He dug out the dried meat he’d been saving, and watched as the little one gleefully ran over, hugging bags of dried meat and devouring them ferociously. Seeing this spectacle, Dragon Silver had a premonition: soon, it would be his turn to lament in the cabbage field, motherless at three.

His surrender only emboldened the little creature, whose appetite soared. It was eating constantly, growing visibly bigger every day. Within a week, Dragon Silver could no longer carry it.

Luckily, the bear was sensible—except when it came to food, where it argued its case relentlessly.

After a month, Dragon Silver blinked at Little Hammer, now grown to the size of his waist, like a balloon inflated overnight. Such growth was truly awe-inspiring.

After two months, Dragon Silver noticed the bear’s height had stopped increasing, but it was growing wider. By now, he felt it was time for a candid conversation.

“Little Hammer, I’ve fed you for two months. Your daily intake matches my monthly ration. At this rate, in three days, unless I roast you, I’ll starve to death myself!”

Indeed, nearly two months wandering the jungle, he’d accumulated almost ten thousand four-star energy cards, yet found nothing edible. Even the creek’s source seemed endlessly far, stretching on without end.

By now, Little Hammer could walk upright on its hind legs. It clasped its head with its forepaws, displaying a look of pure innocence and honesty in the face of Dragon Silver’s mild reproach.

Dragon Silver rubbed his brow again. He was mistaken, it seemed. Confessions only brought him grief. From the start, hadn’t he known Little Hammer was a mountain bear prince: honest in appearance, sly in soul? If he wasn’t so certain that a royal’s bloodline was the purest, he’d swear one parent was a sly fox.

Dragon Silver sat with arms folded before the bear. “Alright, tell me, what will we eat in three days?” Half a month ago, he’d noticed Little Hammer was a royal bear with an omnivorous appetite. Because of this, his plant-based rations had vanished just as quickly.

Little Hammer tilted its head. From a human perspective, it was still a three-month-old infant. To expect a baby to ponder such things was unreasonable, but the bear was no human—it was an eighth-tier card beast! With the cunning of a fox from birth, Dragon Silver felt it necessary to make clear: while he wouldn’t ever treat it as food, if he was reduced to eating grass, his pet would surely chew more than he did.

“Three days from now, shall we eat grass together?” Dragon Silver smiled, prompting the bear to shrink back nervously.

“Awo awo~”

Dragon Silver raised a brow. “You say you’ll find us food?”

“Awo awo~”—Yes.

Veins bulged on Dragon Silver’s forehead. He ground his teeth. “Why didn’t you look for food before?”

“Awo awo~”—It tasted bad.

“So, as your master, I have to suffer with you?”

Sensing Dragon Silver was on the verge of exploding, Little Hammer quickly shook its head.

“Awo awo~”—I simply forgot.

Forgot its hunting instincts? Was this all his own doing? Dragon Silver patted Little Hammer gently. “Good child, since you remember how to find food now, tomorrow—no, right now—you can prepare your own dinner.”

The angrier Dragon Silver became, the gentler his smile. Little Hammer, sensing danger, nodded obediently under this terrifying pressure.

Dragon Silver, grumpily, bit into a scallion pancake and settled on a stone to watch his bear child hunt.

Little Hammer glanced timidly at Dragon Silver, then looked around before letting out a roar toward the setting sun. The sound was so loud that Dragon Silver nearly dropped his pancake. Soon, he felt the ground shaking beneath him, and tossed the pancake into his storage space. Was this an earthquake? Then, a thick cloud of smoke rolled in, and Dragon Silver gaped as a mass of animals, card beasts among them, charged toward his location—a beast tide? He jumped from the stone, grabbing his bear child and making for safety, but quickly realized something was off. The beast tide stopped abruptly in front of him, then all the creatures prostrated themselves in absolute submission.

“Awo awo~” Little Hammer nudged Dragon Silver, who turned mechanically to him. He was saying—these are all food, Master, what kind of meat would you like?

Happiness had come so suddenly, Dragon Silver didn’t know how to react. Two months without seeing a single animal, and now so many appeared before him. Did Little Hammer’s roar have such a powerful effect? If he stood by a river full of fish and roared, would the fish leap onto the shore?

In the end, Dragon Silver simply picked a few rabbits. Little Hammer roared again, and Dragon Silver witnessed the law of the jungle in action: the dominance of apex creatures over those lower in the food chain, to an awe-inspiring degree. Truly, the words were apt—towering and unattainable.

Even as the fragrant roasted meat was placed before him, Dragon Silver couldn’t accept it—food had come too easily. Just a roar and the beasts delivered themselves, even providing menu options, with service so good it nearly included feeding. He took the roasted rabbit and, faced with the ingratiating fox, felt even more surreal.

He took a bite of rabbit, then spat out the scallion pancake he’d eaten earlier. “Unpalatable” didn’t even begin to describe it. Bear child, now I fully understand you.

That night, Dragon Silver unexpectedly didn’t train his spiritual power; he had a far more meaningful task—teaching these generous animals how to roast themselves to perfection.

After this, he learned from the fox the nearest route to the water source. Pleased, Dragon Silver rewarded Little Hammer with ten bags of dried meat, pitched his tent, and, too excited to sleep, finally drifted off only after exhausting his spiritual power.