Chapter 112: Complete Herd of Firehorses!

Those present had never even seen a hundred gold coins gathered together; even when raiding the scorpion nest, there were only dozens of gold coins at most.

So they could not possibly imagine what it would look like to have over two thousand gold coins together.

“That’s the value after selling them—if not sold, they’re just a few Firehorses!”

“But this herd of Firehorses is a complete clan, including mares and foals.”

“I plan to keep these horses in my domain—they’ll be the seed to breed hundreds or even thousands of Firehorses!”

“Master, I’ll notify all our clan members at once!”

Hearing his master’s vision, Pik’s expression turned grave.

Earlier, it had been mere shock.

Now that he confirmed there truly were so many Firehorses, he knew he had to take this extremely seriously.

After all, this mission was by far the most important since the Hunting Village joined the Storm Domain!

It was the perfect moment to report to Lord Gervas.

An hour and a half later, Gervas arrived with over a hundred men near the Dragon’s Blood Grass Gorge.

He did not advance further, fearing their scent might alert the Firehorses.

And since the Hunting Village was involved, professional matters must be left to professionals.

“Pik, it’s all up to you now!”

“Master, we won’t let a single Firehorse escape!”

Pik and his men were full of confidence.

In other terrain, they might not have had such assurance.

But this long, deep gorge ahead was a natural trap.

“Then let’s begin!”

Gervas nodded in satisfaction and watched Pik and his men enter the gorge.

Since the gorge had no tall trees—only low grass—he could clearly see what Pik and his men were doing.

As they advanced, Pik and his men smeared dung over their bodies.

When they reached the location of the Dragon’s Blood Grass, they began digging pits and laying ropes.

After half an hour of frantic work, Pik returned.

“Master, our traps are set. Now we wait in ambush—no disturbances inside the gorge, or we’ll scare off the approaching Firehorses!”

Gervas understood perfectly, confirmed Pik didn’t need his men’s help, and ordered the guards to retreat two li.

He himself stayed behind, crouching with Lei Meng on the cliffside, waiting.

Time passed second by second; after half an hour, several brown shapes appeared at the far end of the gorge.

“They’re here!”

Gervas and Lei Meng exchanged glances, both eyes alight with excitement.

Especially Lei Meng—he clenched his fists unconsciously.

Though his lord had already told him Firehorses would come,

seeing dozens of them as a herd still left Lei Meng stunned.

This was dozens of Firehorses—most noble families couldn’t possibly own so many.

After the initial thrill, both Lei Meng and Gervas pressed themselves lower, burying themselves deep in the grass, leaving only their eyes fixed on the distance.

Probably because they were foraging with their entire clan, the Firehorses were extremely cautious—even more so than the Swift Grey Rabbits from last time.

The Firehorses sniffed repeatedly, hesitating and pacing at the gorge’s entrance for a long while, yet refused to enter.

As if the grass at the entrance tasted better than the Dragon’s Blood Grass.

Just as Gervas and Lei Meng began to wonder if the herd had sensed something, one Firehorse finally stepped slowly into the gorge.

But it only went about ten meters before pausing to graze again.

After five or six full minutes, seeing no danger, it lifted its head toward the gorge’s depths and began walking forward.

The other adult Firehorses then began entering one by one, in pairs.

Yet they too did not rush in—instead, they lined up orderly, spaced dozens of meters apart, eating a few mouthfuls, then taking a few steps.

At this point, the first Firehorse had reached the gorge’s midpoint—the Dragon’s Blood Grass now lay ahead.

Its pace quickened slightly; once inside the grass zone, it scanned the surroundings one final time, then lowered its head to chew.

The crunching sounds echoed loudly in the quiet gorge.

Chewing as it walked, another five or six minutes passed before the Firehorse finally lifted its head and looked toward its companions.

Whoa!

A long, piercing neigh made the distant Firehorses lift their heads.

Clip-clop! Clip-clop!

Then, five or six foals, previously out of sight, entered the gorge under their mothers’ lead, trotting happily toward the gorge’s midpoint with their short legs.

The other Firehorses gradually joined the run, surrounding the foals.

“It’s done!”

With the foals’ appearance, Gervas knew today’s hunt was essentially won.

Indeed, the Firehorses were now completely at ease; once the foals and adults reached the midpoint, they no longer bothered to scan their surroundings—they eagerly began crunching away.

And the Firehorses fed in tight clusters—originally to better protect their young, but now it gave the hunters a better chance to capture them.

Rustle! Rustle!

Rustle! Rustle!

As the Firehorses grazed peacefully on the Dragon’s Blood Grass, wooden stakes and ropes suddenly erupted from the ground, forming a tight circle around the herd.

No wonder they were professionals—this encirclement was far more concealed and sturdy than Gervas’s last attempt.

Not only had the supporting stakes lain flat in the grass beforehand, but the restraining ropes numbered five thick strands—so even the foals couldn’t escape.

Compared to this, Gervas’s last success in capturing seven Firehorses had been pure luck.

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

Such commotion naturally alerted the Firehorses—they immediately panicked and bolted in all directions.

But the surrounding ropes completely blocked their escape; soon, the large and small Firehorses became flies trapped in a jar.

Neighs and hoofbeats filled the entire gorge.

The hunters didn’t dare delay—they now threw off the thick layers of grass covering them, rising up and shouting.

Each held a rope noose, spun it several times to build momentum, then hurled it without hesitation toward the Firehorses.

Their throwing technique was expert—no one missed; every noose landed firmly around a Firehorse’s neck.

Once the noose caught, the hunters yanked hard, tightening the slipknots around the Firehorses’ necks, then left them be.

Instead, they picked up a second noose and began throwing again.

The ropes had been pre-anchored to low wooden stakes already driven into the ground.

This way, they didn’t have to worry about the Firehorses struggling—they could throw more nooses, just in case.

In just a few seconds, over forty Firehorses each had at least three nooses around their necks.

Even if they struggled violently now, it would be useless.

“Excellent!” Gervas, seeing this, couldn’t help rising to his feet and cheering.