Black Snake Valley. More than two thousand stark-white wolf skeletons had already turned blood-red, throwing themselves desperately at the companions they had known in life. The wolf skeletons were not agile enough, nor were they fast enough, but they possessed more than triple the strength of living wild wolves.
A pounce, a bite, or a pounce followed by a rake of the claws—and a wild wolf would immediately collapse in dejection, blood spraying from its torn-open body and dyeing the wolf skeleton crimson from head to toe. Once splashed with blood, the wolf skeletons grew ever nimbler, ever more deft, their strikes ever faster, and their slaughter ever more efficient.
The ghastly white wolf skeletons had beaten the wolf pack into utter disarray. The deathly, sinister aura they gave off drove the wild wolves steadily backward, making them howl in terror without cease. A few bold male wolves did pounce upon the skeletons, seeking to settle the score with them, but more often than not, their bodies were effortlessly torn apart.
Taking advantage of the wolf skeletons throwing the wolf pack's assault into chaos, Enzo had the warriors tend their wounds in haste. His eyes remained fixed upon the royal werewolf surrounded by wolf cavalry. He bore a golden wolf banner, and his face was nearly indistinguishable from that of an ordinary human; only a pair of furry wolf ears exposed his beastman identity.
Werewolves who resembled humans to such an extent were pure-blooded royal beastmen. Legend had it that the most primitive and ancient generation of beastmen looked exactly like humans in their daily lives. Only when they awakened the power of their bloodline would they abruptly transform into beastman form.
Thus, among beastmen, the purer and nobler one's bloodline, the more closely one resembled a human. The more