The battle between the Silver Wolf Saint King and Chen Menglin grew ever fiercer. Their figures darted through the air, fighting farther and farther away, leaving only afterimages and the echoes of thunderous clashes.
At the Mountain Foot, over a hundred Howling Moon Silver Wolves stirred restlessly. Bloodthirsty light gleamed in their eyes as they paced in agitation, ready to charge at any moment.
Nelson Astana and Anderson Strick stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the scene before them with grave expressions. Beside them, Deputy Commander Anos Rahman Khan led more than two hundred surviving soldiers, their ranks braced for battle.
Chen Xiaojun's party numbered barely thirty, most of them wounded or ill. Facing such formidable enemies, the severity of their predicament spoke for itself.
Their eyes held both resolve and helplessness. They had already prepared for the worst.
As supreme ninth-grade soul beasts, Howling Moon Silver Wolves possessed combat strength that only the finest soul masters of the same rank could match.
Even at its full strength, the Wolf Bandits' Guard Team would have struggled to contend with the hundred-odd silver wolves before them.
Worse still, the Silver Wolf True King and other powerful foes were overseeing the battle. Their situation was more precarious than ever.
Back then, a War King and a Beast King had escaped alongside the Silver Wolf Saint King.
Now, they had advanced to True King and War King respectively, their strength far beyond what it had once been.
Over the past few years, another Millennium Silver Wolf had broken through its bottleneck and become a new Beast King.
These powerful foes would undoubtedly pose enormous obstacles to their expedition.
Yet among the Wolf Clan, strength reigned supreme. Those allowed to escape in a crisis were all seeds of exceptional talent, poised on the brink of