The battle between Silver Wolf Saint King and Chen Menglin grew fiercer and fiercer. Their figures kept darting and shifting through the air, fighting farther and farther away, leaving behind only streaks of afterimages and the rumbling echoes of their clashes.
At the foot of the mountain, over a hundred Howling Moon Silver Wolves were stirring restlessly. Bloodthirsty light flickered in their eyes as they paced back and forth in agitation, ready to charge at any moment.
Nelson Astana and Anderson Strick stood shoulder to shoulder, their expressions grave as they watched everything before them. Beside them, Vice Commander Arno Rahman Khan led more than two hundred battered soldiers in a tight formation, waiting in readiness.
Chen Xiaojun's group numbered only around thirty, and most of them were wounded or ill. Facing such powerful enemies, the severity of the situation went without saying.
There was both resolve and helplessness in their eyes. They had already prepared for the worst.
Howling Moon Silver Wolves, as top-grade ninth-rank soul beasts, possessed combat strength that only the top Soul Masters of the same level could match.
The hundred-plus silver wolves before them would have been difficult for even the wolf bandits' guard unit to contend with at its peak.
Moreover, there were still powerhouses like the Silver Wolf True King holding the line at this moment, making the situation even more precarious.
Back then, those who had fled together with Silver Wolf Saint King included one Battle King and one Beast King.
Now, they had all advanced to True King and Battle King, and their strength was no longer what it had once been.
And over these past few years, another thousand-year silver wolf had broken through its bottleneck and become a new Beast King.
These powerhouses would undoubtedly become enormous obstacles on