Kane's Bloodhoof waited patiently. The dusk of the pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info came and went, and the sun gradually sank in the west, sinking into the mountains.

When the last rays of sunlight faded, the little warmth it emitted disappeared. Kane's bloodhoof held the hunter's patience and continued to wait. Finally, the restless one of the lions also lay down his head and fell into a deep sleep with the other lions, and the whole steppe lion pack was quiet.

Finally, Kane's Bloody Hoof got into action. His limbs were numb and he almost fell. He slipped out of his hiding place and walked down the slope, never taking his eyes off the sleeping lion. It lowered its head, breathed evenly, exhaled and breathed the dead grass in front of its mouth.

Kane's Bloodhoof moved lightly and cautiously towards his prey.

He didn't even feel the heat, he couldn't feel the wind, he couldn't feel the signs of grass and trees on his skin, his anticipation was so eager, his mind was so focused, his demeanor was so focused that it drove away all physical discomfort.

The closer he got closer, the steppe lion still asleep in his dreams.

He raised the short axe in his hand and swung it down.

Its eyes snapped open.

It struggled to get up, but the fatal blow had already fallen.

At this moment, how Kane Bloodhoof wanted to shout like his father's angry Bloodhoof! But he still didn't shout after all, after all, he didn't want to be torn apart by the lions full of vengeful anger.

His finely honed axe blade was so sharp that it sliced through the lion's thick neck and spine like cheese. Blood spurted out, and a warm, viscous liquid splattered Kane Bloodhoof. He smiled, it was part of the ritual to stain his body with the blood of the prey he had killed independently for the first time, and now that this part was done for him, it was a good sign.

He had been as quiet as he could, but he still heard the lions wake up. He spun around quickly, gasping for air, and let out the long-awaited terrifying wardrop.

The shiny blade of the axe had been darkened with blood, but the sharp weapon after seeing the blood was even more hideous, and he squeezed the handle of the axe and roared again, venting his emotions and warning the wild lions.

The lions seemed to hesitate.

Kane Bloodhoof was once told that if the blow to kill the lion was clean, the lions would sometimes choose to flee rather than attack, knowing instinctively that they would no longer be able to help their fallen siblings.

He hoped it was true. If they attacked, he might be able to take down one or two, but in the end he would not be able to escape the fate of falling under the claws of the lion.

They moved. They retreated in unison, whining, turning, running. He watched them run up the slope and disappear over the top of the slope, kicking up a cloud of dust on the grass as proof that they had been there.

Kane Bloodhoof lowered his axe, gasped, and raised it high again, letting out a roar of victory.

Tonight, his empty belly will be filled with flesh and blood, and the soul of the steppe lion will enter his dreams. Tomorrow morning, he will return to his clan as an adult, ready to take on his duties and serve his clan.

"Smack, smack, smack!" Prophet Jon Stareye clapped his hands and walked from afar!

The dividing line of the coming-of-age ceremony****************************

"Why can't you ride a Kodomon?" Kane Bloodhoof asked strangely, looking at Jon Star's eyes like a child.

"Because that's the way of the ancestors." Jon Stareye spoke briefly, and tapped Kane Bloodhoof on the shoulder.

Kane Bloodhoof was young and strong, and the long journey to the Holy Mountain was nothing to him. He is different, he is old and indifferent, he doesn't like sports, and if he can ride his huge Kodo beast "Zifeng" to travel, he will be grateful. But the old tradition is sacrosanct, and as long as he can walk, he will definitely continue to walk. Kane Bloodhoof bowed his head in approval, and the old and the young continued.

Although Jon Stareye has felt more and more overwhelmed every time he has embarked on this path in recent years, this time he was driven away by a sense of excitement from the pain and exhaustion of his body.

He had led countless young boys and girls through this journey and completed the rites of passage, but he had never seen a young man summoned by the spirit of the ancestors. He was old, but he still hadn't lost his curiosity: perhaps because the previous Minotaur had canceled the killing of a steppe lion alone during the previous Minotaur rite of passage, or perhaps Kane Bloodhoof really had something special.

For the young, it takes only a few hours to reach their destination, while it takes almost a day for the elderly.

As twilight fell, the sacred mountain finally came into view. Jon Stareye looked up at the familiar silhouette of the Holy Mountain and couldn't help but smile. The ridge of Qingniu Mountain is not as jagged as other mountain ranges, and its peaks are gently transitioning, without edges and corners, just like the character of the Minotaur - gentle and smooth.

Its delicate surfaces reflect the sun's rays and sparkle like crystal, making it very different from the surrounding landscape.

A long, long time ago, the spirits of the ancestors were drawn to it, and because of this, the Minotaur built a dwelling place in its sacred shadow. No matter what disputes and disagreements the souls of those ancestors had during their lifetimes, they are one in this mountain.

He knew he would be back soon, but not as a toddler, dying old man. It would be his last visit in this old and decaying shell; Next time, Jon Stareye will come as a member of the Spirit, volleying in the air like a bird, with no worries in his heart and a new soul.

"What's wrong, Prophet?" Kane Bloodhoof asked, his young voice full of concern. Jon Stareye blinked, pulling his fugue back to reality, and smiled at Kane Bloodhoof.

"Nothing." He sincerely assured Kane Bloodhoof.

When they reached the foot of the mountain, the setting sun had been replaced by a deep night shadow. They plan to camp here tonight and start climbing the mountain at dawn tomorrow.

Kane Bloodhoof, wrapped in the fur of a recently hunted steppe lion, fell asleep first.

The prophet Jon Stareye looked at him lovingly. He thought that Kane Bloodhoof's dreams must have been full of youthful dreams and hopes for the future, and that he himself would not dream tonight, and that his mind would have to remain absolutely clear if he was to be taught by his ancestors tomorrow.

The climb along the long mountain road is more tiring than the long journey from the grassland to the bottom of the mountain; Jon Stareye is relieved to have his sturdy cane and Kane Bloodhoof's strong arms.

Today, however, his steps seemed to be more steady than usual, and his breathing was smoother, as if the spirit of the ancestors was pulling him forward, supporting his old body with the power of his soul.

They stopped in front of the sacred cave. The entrance to the cave is perfectly oval in shape, embedded in the surface of the sacred mountain. Kane Stareye felt as if he had stepped into the womb of the earth, as usual.

Kane Bloodhoof tries to calm himself down, but in the end he only looks a little nervous. Jon Stareye didn't smile, he should have been nervous.

Kane Bloodhoof was summoned to the Holy Land by a long-dead ancestor, and even Jon Stareye himself could not remain indifferent.