Chapter 385: Success
"Hm?" Just as Dean was desperately trying to persuade him, Leon caught a sudden flash of gray out of the corner of his eye...
Hidden Wolf!
Leon reacted with impossible speed, seizing this fleeting opportunity. His mana array whirred to life, locking onto the Hidden Wolf’s aura for the third time.
Leon thought, surely no one in the world had better luck than him—actually playing cat and mouse with a magical beast as elusive as the Hidden Wolf...
But this should be the last time!
In that instant, Leon pushed his control to the limit. As the mana array locked onto the Hidden Wolf’s aura, three Wizard’s Eyes shot out at once.
The third Wizard’s Eye caught the Hidden Wolf’s position—right on the edge of the battlefield between the Thunderbird and the Frostwolf King.
"You really know how to hide..." Leon cursed through gritted teeth. The Hidden Wolf lived up to its name—even in a situation like this, it could pick a spot so hard to find.
Anyone could see why...
Behind the Hidden Wolf, the battlefield raged between the Wolf King and the Thunderbird; ahead, a thousand Frostwolves pressed in, encircling us. No matter which direction we chose, we were guaranteed a world of trouble.
But then again, obstacles like these never really fazed me...
"Hubert, break through that pack of Frostwolves!" I pointed straight ahead, commanding him forward.
"Yes, sir!" Hubert, the Dragonblood Orc, didn't hesitate for a second—he hefted his Slaughter and charged headlong into the fray.
What followed was a spectacle of carnage—blood and flesh everywhere. Hubert, still rattled from earlier when someone tried to poach him, was terrified I’d blame him for it. Now, given a chance to prove himself, he was determined to go all out.
With Slaughter in hand, Hubert barreled into the Frostwolf pack, pushing his strength to the absolute limit. The lingering effects of the Angelic Elixir still coursed through him, and his combat prowess bordered on monstrous—whole clusters of Frostwolves couldn’t slow him down. With every sweep, he claimed a dozen lives...
"Young man, don’t you think you’re being a bit selfish..." Dean stood watching Hubert rampage through the Frostwolves, envy barely concealed in his eyes.
That was a flawless, uncut gem if I ever saw one...
Terrifying strength, paired with an orc’s battle lust and instinct—he was born for war. If he were mine, give me ten years and I’d have him standing among the Sword Saints. He’d be the backbone of the Templar Knights Mercenary Company, maybe even strong enough to challenge the Apocalypse Mercenary Company...
Such a flawless gem—what a pity he ended up with the wrong master.