On the battlefield at Krim Fortress, ever since Silver Wolf had leaped into the fray with the fully manifested Wolf Calamity, the fortress hailed as an unbreakable wall had been pushed back step by step.
The gnolls hadn't even joined the battle in force. The rampaging astral wolves alone had driven the Winter Wolf Legion into a disgraceful retreat.
The Goldens had gone to restrain Silver Wolf Helson, who was wreaking havoc inside the fortress itself. That left the commanders and soldiers to face the savage, powerful Wolf Calamity lords. But there were nine of them rampaging through the fortress—essentially the equivalent of nine Goldens bearing divine blood roaming through mortal lands and laying waste to everything.
What made matters worse, reaching them meant first breaking through the "living disaster" formed by hundreds of thousands of astral wolves. To be honest, the scene looked just like the migrations that took place whenever astral wolf packs raced through the ruined star rivers of the shattered Astral Plane.
It was the most terrifying disaster in the Astral Plane. Anything in the wolves' path was swept away. Even the arrogant demigods had to make way for that surging, filthy tide.
Of course, a Wolf Calamity on that scale usually numbered in the millions. The hundred thousand astral wolves here were small potatoes by comparison.
But no one had ever imagined that anything like this could happen in the material world. This was a completely mismatched version of the game—like sending a level-twenty player to clear a level-forty dungeon. Anyone with a shred of decency should know better than to pull something like this.
Yet faced with a pack of wolves with astral creature templates, the Winter Wolf Legion's soldiers had no time to complain or curse. They were like isolated islands trapped in