Seeing another wave of Wind-Ripper Wolves charging in, the mercenaries in the front row gripped their shields, their faces flushed with a desperate, frantic excitement.

  BOOM!

  A bone-chilling impact followed. Several mercenaries were slammed flat onto the ground by the sheer force of the charging wolves. These fallen men instantly became a gaping hole in the defensive line.

  The larger, Brave-rank Wind-Rippers didn't hesitate. They lunged over the fallen shields, their maws snapping shut on the throats of the downed men. Blood sprayed across the grass.

  "It’s the Brave-rank ones!"

  "Fall back! Retreat!"

  "Get out of my way! Who’s behind me? Move or I’ll kill you myself!"

  The sight of fresh blood finally reignited the mercenaries' primal fear of the pack. Their hard-won formation shattered in a heartbeat.

  "A total rabble... useless, the lot of them," Iron Bear muttered, stunned.

  He hadn't expected the temporary coalition to crumble so quickly. But in hindsight, it was inevitable. This group was composed of weak, bottom-tier squads lured only by high rewards. They lacked cohesion, they lacked loyalty, and above all, they lacked the strength to face a Wind-Ripper swarm.

  The rout began like a landslide—once the first man turned tail, all hope of a counterattack vanished.

  The wolves, sensing the shift in momentum, became even more ferocious. Mercenaries were tackled from behind and ripped apart. Shouts of anger and screams of agony filled the air, completely crushing whatever scrap of courage remained in the survivors' hearts.

  "Get lost!" Iron Bear swung his warhammer, crushing a wolf that lunged at his face.

  "Excuse me, could you tell me the way to the heart of the forest?"

  In the middle of the chaotic retreat, a calm, steady voice suddenly drifted into Iron Bear’s ear. He looked up to find a slender young man standing right in his path.

  "Was that you asking?" Iron Bear stared at the youth in bewilderment.

  "Yes," Kael nodded, looking genuinely puzzled. "But more importantly... why are you all running?"

  Kael hadn't expected to get lost so easily after entering the forest in the middle of the night. There was no way to find high-grade materials on the outskirts.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Why are we running? Are you blind?! Look at the wolves behind us!" Iron Bear barked, having no intention of playing tour guide. "If you want to die, stay here. We’re leaving!"

  "A Wind-Ripper pack? Hmm, a Wolf King’s fangs should make for excellent crafting material." Kael’s eyes lit up.

  "A Wolf King’s fangs? Kid, there’s a limit to how much big talk a man should spout." Iron Bear scoffed. "Do you see these men? An entire mercenary coalition is running for their lives. How many lives do you think you have to throw away?"

  Iron Bear’s gaze was filled with contempt. He had already labeled this young man a delusional braggart.

  But Kael didn't seem to hear him. He pulled out the Omni-Sphere and began walking calmly toward the encroaching swarm.

  "Who is that guy?"

  "Has he been scared stupid? Why is he walking toward them?"

  "Stop watching him and keep running!"

  The fleeing mercenaries spared him glances of derision or pity, but no one slowed down. Their philosophy was simple: you didn't have to be faster than the wolves; you just had to be faster than the guy next to you.

  "Omni-Sphere: Sky-Piercer Halberd Mode."

  Kael flicked his wrist. The silver sphere hovered in the air, its metal plates shifting and expanding with mechanical precision until a magnificent Fangtian Halberd fell into his hand. Against a swarming horde, a polearm was far superior to a short blade.

  The leading Wind-Rippers, seeing a human actually daring to approach, let out snarling howls and leaped.

  WHACK!

  Kael delivered a backhanded sweep. The leaping wolves were swatted away like heavy bags of trash, crashing into the trees with sickening thuds.

  "So he has a bit of skill. No wonder he talks big," Iron Bear muttered from the crowd, a cold sneer on his face. "But against a whole pack, a 'bit of skill' won't save you."

  A single Wind-Ripper was just a low-tier beast. Their true terror lay in their numbers—they never hunted alone.

  "Now, where is the King? Where is the King?" Kael mused, his eyes scanning the sea of fur.

  He moved through the pack with fluid grace, his body twisting and turning in ways that made the wolves' lunges look clumsy.

  Copper head, iron tail, tofu waist.

  Guided by his Weapon Mastery, Kael’s halberd struck with surgical precision. Every swing caught a wolf in its soft midsection, snapping spines and ending lives instantly. Their attack patterns were too simple, too linear. Compared to that "Saint" in the Trial Space who had killed him tens of thousands of times, these wolves were moving in slow motion.

  "Found you."

  Kael walked through the swarm as if he were taking a stroll in a park. His gaze locked onto the largest wolf in the pack.

  The Wind-Ripper Wolf King sensed the threat. Its emerald eyes fixed on Kael, and it bared rows of glistening, bone-white teeth.

  AOOOOUUUU!

  With a thunderous howl, the King accelerated, its powerful frame turning into a grey blur—a living arrow aimed at Kael’s heart.

  "So fast!" Iron Bear gasped, his pupils shrinking. Even as a Brave-rank warrior, he knew his physique couldn't compare to that of the Wolf King. If he were the target of that charge, he would be dead.

  "Too slow," Kael whispered, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

  He gave the halberd a casual spin and thrusted upward. The razor-sharp tip seemed to wait for the Wolf King to impale itself. The blade tore through the King’s throat and erupted from the back of its neck in one smooth motion.

  Wolf blood sprayed across the forest floor.

  With the King dead and its command silenced, the pack instantly fell into chaos. The wolves surrounding Kael whimpered, backing away in sheer terror from the scent of their leader's blood.

  "How... How is this possible? The Wolf King... dead? Just like that?!" Iron Bear stood frozen, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

  The mercenaries at the back of the rout slowed down, realized the pursuit had stopped, and turned to witness the impossible.