Chapter 191: Ambush
Due to having exhausted all of his Spell Slots early in the previous battle, Xia Ye Qiu Yu chose to return with the main group for a long rest, leaving only the trio to venture deep into the Karka Mountain Range.
This rugged, remote highland, located north of Storm Ridge, was rarely visited by mortals. It was steeped in legend—tales of the Giant Malevolent Snowman that drained brains, the Tower of Eternal Night that wailed with endless sorrow, and the spectral echoes of Snowfield Ghosts—each a chilling tale whispered across the Northern Kingdoms.
“Huff… huff…” A frigid wind howled through the valley, coating the rocks in a thin layer of frost and drenching the air with biting cold.
“Jesus—this place is fucking freezing!” Stuffed Bun shivered violently, his breath puffing out in thick white clouds from his nostrils.
“Should’ve prepared properly. Now you’re just suffering for it.” Singo pulled out a vial of Blue Potion and tossed it to Stuffed Bun. It was a Cold Resistance Elixir, brewed from rare Magic Herbs grown deep beneath the earth—relatively rare and valuable.
Stuffed Bun uncorked it, gulped it down in one go, and instantly felt a furnace ignite in his belly. Warmth surged through his limbs.
“Ahh…舒服.”
“Good job, Hardcore Player.” Stuffed Bun grinned, giving a thumbs-up.
“Nice stuff!”
Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang, blessed with the Barbarian Constitution, barely registered the cold, but still took a sip of his pre-prepared Spirit Medicine. A warm aura flared around him, steam billowing from his nose as he exhaled in satisfaction.
“Huff… huff…”
Another piercing shriek cut through the air.
“Wait—this isn’t wind. Something’s wrong. Prepare for combat!” Singo’s Perception flared, his voice sharp with warning.
This wasn’t just wind. Beneath the howl of the storm, there was something else—wails, mournful and desperate, like the cries of starving wolves.
On both sides of the valley, flickering shadows darted across the cliffs—hazy, shifting shapes that rustled against stone.
Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang whirled around—nothing. Just black rock.
“Looks like enemies are here. Hiding in the dark. Playing games.”
Singo nocked an arrow, drew his bow with a sharp twang, and fired straight at the rock. The arrow struck—and detonated in a flash of flame, erupting into a violent burst of Flame Light.
The explosion startled the creatures hiding behind the rock. They scattered, revealing their true forms.
They stood upright—about two meters tall, hunched like beasts, their backs bristling with coarse, matted fur. Their heads were like hyenas—jagged yellow teeth, blood-red triangular eyes, and a look of ravenous hunger.
Those crimson eyes locked onto the three players, throats rumbling with low, guttural growls, as if devouring them in thought alone.
These Monsters craved intelligent prey. They loved to eat their victims alive—watching them scream, feel every bite, savor the terror in their final moments. Humans were a favorite on their menu.
“Wolfman?” Singo recognized them instantly. He’d slain dozens in the Mine Shaft. But something was off.
Wolfmen preferred warm, humid environments—plains or underground caverns. They rarely ventured into freezing high mountains. And these weren’t the usual Wolfmen. Their hides weren’t just red-brown or black fur. Scattered across their bodies were patches of bare skin, with sparse, pale scales sprouting in places—white, almost crystalline.
The trio instantly thought of the Dragon Blood Great Goblin from the Burnt Kingdom.
“Hmm… interesting. Could this be White Dragon Bloodline?”
“Explains the cold resistance.”
“Better catch a few alive. Could be worth a fortune.”
Singo’s eyes lit up. His gaze on the Wolfmen sharpened with excitement—this was a rare breed, a unique variant. Handing them over to the “Tower of the Great Wise One” would fetch a hefty reward in gold coins and Contribution Points.
Battle was imminent.
“Aaaarrrrgh!”
The Dragon Vein Wolfmen raised their heads in unison, unleashing a chorus of mournful, wailing roars—deep, guttural, utterly unnatural.
They leapt from the cliffs, clawing at the air, drool dripping from their jaws like thick, foul slime.
“You two—War Fury Brother, Stuffed Bun—go in first! Hold the line!”
“What the hell? Hardcore Player giving orders now? Why don’t you go fight these disgusting things?”
Grumbling, Stuffed Bun hefted his standard Silver Sword and charged forward.
Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang was already roaring, his muscles tensing. He stomped the ground, triggering Frenzied—his eyes blazing red as he charged headlong into the horde.
“AAAAH!”
“This is fun!”
With a thunderous swing, Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang brought his massive axe down—crack!—severing a Wolfman’s head clean off. The rest recoiled in panic.
Stuffed Bun seized the opening, dashing in with inhuman speed, unleashing Tide of Armor Classtions. His blade blurred, slicing through a Wolfman’s chest with a single, fluid motion. Entrails spilled out in a gory cascade.
Singo, meanwhile, was nothing short of terrifying. He drew his Hunting Longbow, marking a target with a glowing purple Hunter’s Mark.
Whoosh—
The arrow tore through the air. One shot. One kill.
It pierced the Wolfman’s heart, the arrowhead bursting through its back in a spray of blood. The Hunter’s Mark flared, tearing open the wound further, delivering extra damage. The beast dropped dead—lifeless, broken.
“Don’t kill ’em too fast!” Singo called out, already nocking another arrow. “Save some alive!”
Against the seasoned, level-four players—whose real power far surpassed their surface stats—these common Wolfmen, even with a trace of White Dragon Bloodline, were no match. They were little more than experience grinders and loot sources.
But numbers could make up for quality.
Stuffed Bun and Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang fought fiercely at the front, but instead of thinning the enemy, the pack kept swelling. More and more howls echoed from the distant cliffs—rising, overlapping, endless.
“What the hell… how many of these damn things are there?!”
“We can’t kill them all!”
Singo’s face hardened. He scanned the valley. On both cliffs, hundreds of hyena-like heads peered down—countless blood-red eyes, blinking in the gloom. The sheer number made his skin crawl.
“…Oh no. We’ve stumbled into their nest.”
“What?!”
The Wolfmen surged forward in a chaotic tide, their stench overwhelming, their hunger palpable.
Then, the largest among them inhaled deeply—its chest expanding—and unleashed a breath of icy mist.
Freezing Breath.
Like a White Dragon’s.
Stuffed Bun barely rolled away in time, scrambling across the ground as frost instantly coated the spot where he’d stood.
They’d been too reckless. Stuffed Bun and the warlord had attacked from opposite flanks, leaving a wide gap between them. Singo remained far behind, unable to cover either.
Stuffed Bun stared at the branching paths in the valley floor, then snapped his fingers.
“Split up! Run in different directions!”
“Got it!”
Without hesitation, Stuffed Bun bolted left. Tian Sheng Zhan Kuang charged right. Singo turned and sprinted backward—three separate paths, three separate escapes.
“Aaaarrrrgh!”
The Wolfmen hesitated. Greedy, but not particularly bright, they stood frozen—howling, confused. They didn’t know which way to go.
Only after their Chieftain bellowed orders did they finally split into three groups, each chasing one of the fleeing players into the misty depths of the mountains.
(End of Chapter)
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