Peering from behind the large rock, Wufu noticed that rather than saying the "big insect" and the python were entwined in combat, it appeared more like they were each toying with the other.
The python thought it could play the King of Beasts to death, while the big cat considered the python no more than a minor centipede, easily crushable with one swat of its paw. Its current playfulness was simply out of boredom.
Thus, both sides were teasing the other.
The python coiled tighter around the tiger’s neck, squeezing ever more firmly. The tiger sensed the danger, ready to stop playing.
Three consecutive roars startled the animals in the forest to flee in all directions, with birds flapping their wings frantically as they scattered with chirps and squawks.
Wufu’s gaze swept across to a trembling little rabbit hiding in a dense thicket of thorns.
Under normal circumstances, she would have likely taken a shot, but with such a fierce beast present, Wufu was not about to waste her feathered arrows or energy.
Her attention fully on the tiger and snake, she watched as the python tightened its grip, periodically snapping at the tiger’s head, which responded with anguished roars while desperately trying to claw the serpentine body wrapped around its neck.
This was the opportunity. If it managed to tear the python apart, she would not have another chance to attack so easily.
Don’t think fighting a tiger is easy. After all, there’s a reason a tiger is the Beast King. With ambush tactics and clever intelligence, Wufu, a girl, would not have much of a chance in a head-on conflict.
She had no interest in turning herself into the King’s prey; hence, she would hunt if possible, and run if not.
Currently, setting a trap was too late; it was better to play the opportunist, waiting for both to injure each other, then finish them off.
Realizing this, Wufu felt that she indeed had the aura of a protagonist—such good luck to come across a tiger and snake fighting.
Wufu moved to another position, drew a feathered arrow, and notched her bow.
As the tiger leapt about, Wufu’s arrowhead followed its head. With other prey, she could shoot freely, but the tiger’s skin was particularly valuable, especially a complete pelt, which could fetch a high price.
Wufu was loath to turn it into a hornet’s nest, which would reduce its value.
She aimed for a shot straight into the tiger’s eye.
Wufu held her breath, took a deep inhalation, and the hand holding the bow and arrow became even steadier, waiting quietly.
The wind blew through the forest, rustling the treetops.
Wufu’s eyes never left the tiger and the snake.
The tiger, unsuccessful in knocking the snake from its neck and exhausted from leaping about, stood growling in frustration.
With a looseness of her grip, the feathered arrow shot out, swift and carrying the chill of the wind.
An arrow pierced the tiger’s eye.
The tiger went berserk. It looked in Wufu’s direction, the arrow still in its eye, not even minding the python around its neck, and charged toward her with lightning speed.
Wufu climbed up a tree she had previously spotted, reaching an unprecedented speed.
She was just hanging upside down, hands and feet around a branch, when the tiger, arrow still in its eye, lunged at her, continuously swiping upwards with its claws.
Twice, its knife-sharp claws tore through Wufu’s clothing, shredding it.
Wufu had no choice but to flip over and climb higher up the tree.
The crazed tiger was not to be underestimated. Failing to catch Wufu, it started ramming the tree relentlessly, shaking it violently.
Continuing this way, the tree would surely fall. Wufu drew another arrow, aiming downward from her high vantage point.
This arrow struck the middle of the tiger’s head.
With that move, Wufu sent the tiger into a frenzy. Its endless roars rang out, and with a powerful ram, she lost her grip on the bow and arrow, which fell to the ground, as the tree trunk cracked, leaning to one side, ready to topple.