Sniping Across the Center: Shien vs. the Wolf King

The Blood Moon hung high as Gray Fog rolled across the barren slope outside Ashen Fief.

The first to emerge from the fog was a corpse-hauling squad.

The lowest scavengers in werewolf society, they shuffled forward with hunched backs, dragging the mutilated bodies of Crowbone Fief's defenders.

Several werewolves clutched severed human arms. Their fangs tore through flesh, and black blood dripped from their jaws.

Then the clang of armored feet drowned out their chewing.

"Thud. Thud. Thud—"

Deep in the Gray Fog, armored wolf soldiers advanced in formation without a trace of a beast pack's disorder. At the rear marched the master of this dark army: Ulgan, the Fourth Tier Redridge Wolf King.

"Your Majesty." A Third Tier Wolf Guard stepped forward and bowed his head. "Gruen's blood scent is ahead. The humans haven't fully withdrawn. There's still fire at the bottom of the valley."

Ulgan raised his head. As a Fourth Tier king-blood, he possessed [Bloodline Sight].

A dark gleam flashed through his eyes. The thick fog turned transparent in an instant, and the scene miles away snapped into view.

He saw the dying embers at the bottom of the valley, the yellow-green acid mist churning through the collapsed trench, and the broken armor within it.

The lingering blood scent suddenly roused the pack. A low-ranking werewolf at the front lost control and lunged several steps forward.

"Bang—crack!"

Annoyed by the noise, Ulgan struck with one claw and shattered the werewolf's spine. Half its body slammed into the frozen mud.

The entire army fell silent. Every werewolf crouched low and hid its fangs. Not another sound escaped them.

To be certain, Ulgan pierced his palm and pressed his massive, black-blooded claw against the frozen ground.

His Fourth Tier bloodline seized the resonance of blood traces deep beneath the