The Execution That Strips Glory, The Death of the Fourth-Tier Wolf King

"Creeak---- Creeak----"

Outside the heavy gate, the bodies of the Grayridge Wolf Pack kept slamming against the pig iron plate, producing a dense flurry of flesh-pounding and scratching sounds.

Ulgan rolled its thick cervical vertebrae, its crimson vertical pupils sweeping across the closed-loop space at the bottom of Throatlock Gorge.

Three artificially carved, terraced rock walls cut off the foothold, and platinum pillars of light dropped vertically all around, restricting its strength. Several-ton pig iron heavy gates wedged into the rock slots in the rear, sealing off the retreat.

These pieces of information surged into its mind, influencing Ulgan's judgment.

In its centuries-long predatory record, humans facing high-tier bloodlines usually piled up human lives or relied on high walls to hold out to the death.

Yet this kind of encirclement before it clearly violated the rank dignity of a fourth-tier royal seed.

Instinct offered the most direct solution: use power exceeding the trap's bearing limit to shatter this place open.

Ulgan bared its interlocking fangs: "Insolent bugs, wait for death!"

The high-tier primordial blood within its body unlocked restrictions and began to surge at full speed. From the tailbone to the back of the neck, seventeen thick red bone ridges lit up in sequence.

The Blood Moon Hunting Ground centered on Ulgan, and the massive pressure of the fourth-tier domain filled the enclosed space.

Dark red fog rose along the expanding pores on both sides of the spine, and the entire depression echoed with a dense "sizzling" sound as off-white exhaust gas rose upward.

Even the surface of the refined steel shields in the hands of the outer mobile knights developed slight deformations.

The three third-tier Blood-Armored Wolf Guards on the periphery couldn't hold on a step earlier; their chest cavities bulged, their joints dislocated, and black blood spewed from