Chapter 31: Capture the Ringleader First

Lu Zhe panted heavily, his eyes grave as he stared at the dozens of wolf eyes gleaming from the forest ahead.

“These beasts are really something,” he gasped.

With that, he yanked his sharp-fanged dagger from the head of a nearby wolf, watching crimson blood drip down the blade. Strangely, Lu Zhe felt a surge of excitement as he looked at the blood.

“What’s going on?” he murmured, sensing the odd change in his body.

Shaking his head to rid himself of these distracting thoughts, Lu Zhe reminded himself that he was in the heart of a deadly crisis; whether he lived through this was still uncertain—how could he worry about anything else?

He held his breath, focusing intently on the wolves in the thicket. The “Six-Fanged Blue Wolves” didn’t rush to attack him all at once; instead, they watched him as quietly and cautiously as he watched them, as if something held them back.

A long, low howl echoed through the trees.

Lu Zhe’s right hand tightened around the dagger. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at his left shoulder. Although he had wrapped the wound, blood still seeped through from time to time.

With rustling sounds, several more full-grown male wolves bounded from the woods.

“Damn it, these beasts want to wear me down with a war of attrition,” Lu Zhe muttered under his breath.

Clutching his dagger, he watched warily as the blue wolves edged closer. They didn’t all attack at once, perhaps having learned from the fate of their fallen packmates.

Low growls rumbled from the wolves’ throats as they bared their teeth and crept toward him. Lu Zhe could clearly see their sharp fangs glinting between parted jaws.

Suddenly, with another howl, a wolf on Lu Zhe’s left lunged at him, targeting his wounded arm. Clearly, they had noticed his vulnerability.

As that wolf leaped, several others followed, and in an instant, dark wolf shapes blurred before Lu Zhe’s eyes.

He watched, breathless, as the wolves sprang through the air. With a forceful kick, he thrust himself backward, dodging the onslaught.

Though his spirit power still sustained him, the fierce battle with the earlier wolves and the wound on his shoulder made it unwise to meet the assault head-on. Retreat was his only option.

With a splash, Lu Zhe realized he had backed up to the edge of a stream.

Looking forward, he saw the wolves spread out, standing atop rocks, watching him keenly.

He drew a deep breath, eyes locked on the wolves before him, right hand gripping the dagger with all his strength. Every thought, every sense, was razor-sharp—he dared not relax, for even a moment’s carelessness could mean the end of his life.

Time ticked away. Lu Zhe had been locked in a standoff with the wolves for some time now. The sun was high, the midday heat oppressive. Blood still flowed from his shoulder wound, and though it wasn’t immediately fatal, the longer this dragged on, the worse his situation became. Dizziness had already begun to set in.

“Damn, these beasts are cunning—waiting for me to collapse from exhaustion before launching a coordinated attack. That way, they can win with minimal risk,” Lu Zhe muttered, a hint of grudging admiration in his voice.

But the “Six-Fanged Blue Wolves” hadn’t anticipated just how long he could hold out. After witnessing the deaths of several of their packmates, they were now wary of making any rash moves.

Suddenly, Lu Zhe remembered what was written in the “Beasts” scroll: As pack animals, the “Six-Fanged Blue Wolves” must have a leader—a wolf king. Defeat the king, and the pack would fall apart. As long as the wolf king lived, the wolves would fight to the death without retreat.

Just then, a fresh chorus of howls rose from the woods.

Lu Zhe quickly turned, relying on his hearing to locate the source, but the distance and the cover of trees kept the howling wolf hidden from his view.

Still, he was certain: the one who howled must be the wolf king!

Knowing the king was among the wolves before him, Lu Zhe’s lips curled into a faint smile. Now that he had pinpointed the key, everything else became possible.

Of course, that was easier said than done. He was already exhausted after taking down just three or four wolves—defeating the king amid so many others seemed a distant hope. These wolves were fiercely loyal; they would rather die themselves than allow their king to be harmed.

Lu Zhe laughed bitterly. Even with a plan, his chances of success weren’t great. Yet the possibility reignited his fighting spirit, and that alone was worth something.

Determined, he shook his head and thought: I have to defeat these “Six-Fanged Blue Wolves” before blood loss knocks me out. Which means—I must find the wolf king.

A howl rang out.

No sooner had the sound faded than several wolves near Lu Zhe suddenly pounced, no doubt following the wolf king’s command.

Lu Zhe’s grip tightened on the fanged dagger, his eyes blazing with murderous intent as he faced the charging blue wolves. He shouted, “Come on, beasts! Let’s see who dies first—you or me!”

With a swift motion, he lunged, stabbing his blade at the head of the nearest wolf.

With the sickening sounds of flesh and bone, the clearing filled with the roars and snarls of wolves, the clash of battle, and the spray of blood. Lu Zhe swung his dagger in wide arcs, weaving through the pack, striking and slashing, sometimes cleaving downward, sometimes slicing sideways, sometimes thrusting with deadly precision. Wherever his dagger landed, blood gushed like a fountain. He moved with ruthless efficiency.

In a matter of moments, two blue wolves had fallen—one with its throat slit, another with its skull split open. But Lu Zhe paid for it—a savage bite tore into his left leg.

Gritting his teeth, he wrenched the dagger free from a wolf’s skull, blood spurting in its wake. He glanced at another wolf to his right, braced himself on his wounded left leg, and kicked with all the strength left in his right.

His foot hit the ground; he looked down and saw six neat fang marks, perfectly aligned, bleeding steadily down his leg.

His consciousness was growing fuzzy now, his vision blurring. He knew it was the blood loss.

Panting heavily, Lu Zhe bowed his head, then looked up at the remaining “Six-Fanged Blue Wolves” lurking in the woods. He gave a wry, bitter laugh. “So these blue wolf fangs really do deserve their reputation. A pack like this could wipe out a small mercenary band—even one with spirit masters among them. If a lone spirit master faced this many wolves, he wouldn’t dare call it ‘easy.’”

“Damn it, where is that wolf king?” Lu Zhe growled under his breath.

At this point, he doubted he could take down even a single “Six-Fanged Blue Wolf.” And yet, if word got out that a spirit user had slain eight of them, mercenary companies would fight to recruit him.

“Looks like I’m going to die in the jaws of these beasts,” Lu Zhe whispered, half-opening his bleary eyes.

He gazed up at the sky and shouted, “Master!!!!”

(Today I have to attend someone’s birthday, so tonight’s updates will be delayed until around midnight. Don’t worry, I promised five chapters today, and not a single one will be missing.)