A few days prior, in their hunt for a Brave-rank beast, the Iron Bear Mercenary Group had accidentally strayed too deep into the heart of the Cloud Mist Forest. There, they had stumbled upon a Class-rank monster.

  In this world, the advancement of a magical beast was not through a Trial Space, but rather a form of "Nirvana"—a total rebirth. Unlike those with ancient bloodlines or extraordinary natural talent, average beasts rarely gained specific "Skills" when they ranked up. Instead, they received a massive, overwhelming boost to every single base attribute.

  In terms of raw physical power, magical beasts were always the superior party. Thus, while a Class-rank beast might only be one major rank higher than a Brave-rank one, the gap created by that attribute surge was something that raw numbers could never hope to bridge.

  The Iron Bear Mercenary Group, a ragtag collection of varying skill levels, had paid dearly for this knowledge. After leaving behind a trail of corpses, Iron Bear himself had managed to flee back to Cloud Mist City with his strongest elites.

  The news had shaken the Mercenary Guild, the City Lord, and the other two major mercenary squads. However, because the guild points for the anomaly task were so high, many weaker squads were blinded by greed. Iron Bear had seized this opportunity, using his group's remaining reputation to form a massive coalition.

  This bloated, temporary army had entered the forest that day, intentionally trailing behind the Blood Wolf and Lan Ye squads.

  "Commander Bear, we’re falling quite far behind. I’m afraid there won't be anything left of the mission for us," one squad leader said skeptically by the campfire.

  "Don't be in such a hurry," Iron Bear said darkly. "A Class-rank beast isn't that easy to kill."

  Even if Blood Wolf or Lan Ye managed to take it down, they would be exhausted and broken. When that happened, Iron Bear planned to play the "mantis stalking the cicada," swooping in to finish the job and claim the rewards. If the beast was strong enough to wipe them out first, even better; he could swoop in under the guise of "reinforcements" and take over. It was a win-win scenario in his twisted mind.

  "Commander! Commander Bear!"

  A scout burst into the clearing, his face pale with panic.

  "What is it now?" Iron Bear scowled. He hated these weak-willed underlings who lost their heads over every little thing, but he needed their numbers to keep up appearances.

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  "Monsters... so many of them... we’re surrounded!" The scout could barely catch his breath.

  "Calm down and speak clearly! It's just some beasts; act like a member of the Iron Bear Group!" Iron Bear barked.

  "No, Commander... there are... there are dozens of Brave-rank beasts among them!"

  "What?!"

  Iron Bear bolted upright. Beyond the flickering light of the campfire, he saw them: thousands of emerald eyes shimmering with a cold, predatory light in the darkness.

  "Dammit, how did they find us?" Iron Bear’s pupils constricted. A swarm of this size, peppered with Brave-rank elites, was a death sentence for a disorganized coalition like theirs.

  "Everyone up! Battle stations!"

  He grabbed his massive warhammer and let out a roar that jolted the entire camp. Panic immediately set in. Men scrambled for their weapons, shouting in confusion as the reality of the encirclement dawned on them. It took several frantic minutes before they formed any semblance of a line.

  AOOOOUUUUU—!

  A long, haunting wolf howl echoed through the forest. The sea of green eyes began to shift. The pack was closing in.

  "Warriors and Knights to the front! Mages to the center! Buff the front line now!" Iron Bear shouted. He was a seasoned commander, and despite the chaos, he managed to organize a defense.

  The mercenaries responded. Heavy Knights stepped forward, their metal boots thudding on the forest floor, while Warriors filled the gaps. In the center, mages began chanting, their staves glowing with arcane light.

  "[Armor Fortification!]" "[Strength Enhancement!]" "[Shield Blessing!]"

  As the spells took hold, the predators finally emerged into the firelight.

  "Wind-Ripper Wolves!" someone screamed.

  The Wind-Ripper Wolf was a low-tier beast on its own, but they were the most feared creatures in the Cloud Mist Forest. They hunted in massive packs, and their collective ferocity was enough to make even the most powerful monsters avoid their territory. For mercenaries, meeting a single powerful beast was fine—you could run. But meeting a Wind-Ripper pack? They would hunt you until there was nothing left but bone.

  AOOOOUUUUU!

  Another sharp howl signaled the charge. The wolves, previously prowling, suddenly accelerated into a blur of grey fur and snapping jaws.

  "Hold the line!" Iron Bear roared. If the line broke now, it was over.

  The shielded Knights braced themselves.

  THUD! CRACK!

  The first wave slammed into the shields. Warriors behind the Knights stepped out to finish the dazed wolves with quick, brutal strikes. Within minutes, a dozen wolf carcasses lay piled before the line.

  "Good! Keep it up! These mongrels are nothing!" Iron Bear shouted from the rear, hammer in hand.

  However, his eyes were scanning the treeline. He knew that unless they killed the Alpha, the pack would keep throwing themselves at the line in waves. Moreover, the Brave-rank Wind-Rippers—the true killers—hadn't even joined the fray yet.

  AROOOO!

  The third howl was short and urgent.

  Several wolves, significantly larger than their kin, stepped out from the shadows and began a low, thrumming growl before charging with terrifying speed.

  "Don't be afraid, brothers! These things can't break us!"

  "Yeah, look at these corpses! I thought the legends said they were scary!"

  "Time to go on the offensive!"

  Buoyed by their initial success, the mercenaries began to fall into the trap of overconfidence—a fatal mistake in the Cloud Mist Forest.