Chapter 209: Pack Attack

The almost impenetrably dense crimson fog surrounding the entire forest was scattered the moment the wolves howled.

In fact, the force generated by their collective Impulse was so tremendous that the fog was driven away in all directions, clearing the air to such an extent that the faint vermilion light descending from the dreary scarlet heavens was finally able to reach the ground.

The forest was illuminated in patches beneath that cold, gloomy radiance. And because of that momentary illumination, the group was finally able to make out the state of their surroundings after the howl.

It could simply be said that the aftermath was absolutely catastrophic.

It looked as though a hurricane of terrifying magnitude had swept through the forest with enough force to tear apart everything unfortunate enough to stand in its path.

Ancient trees had been ripped from the earth, their enormous roots violently wrenched from the soil. Some had been snapped cleanly in half, while others lay scattered across the forest floor like discarded corpses. Branches littered the ground, stripped from their trunks and scattered over enormous distances.

And that was not all as even the soil had been gouged apart.

Patches of earth had been uprooted entirely, exposing tangled roots and dark layers of soil beneath. Leaves whirled through the air alongside splinters of bark, while countless smaller plants had been flattened beneath the invisible tempest.

Trees that had stood for centuries had been reduced to broken remnants in the span of a few breaths and the once-dense forest had been transformed into a scene of utter devastation.

Yet despite the desolation surrounding them, none of the seven paid much attention to it, their gazes remaining fixed on the wolves.

After all, the destruction around them was merely the consequence of the attack but the true threat was still standing before them.

However, the group themselves had not emerged entirely unscathed.

Although none of them had sustained any serious physical injuries, their appearances were unmistakable evidence of the violent upheaval they had just endured.

Aureleah and Caelestra, whose appearances had been enhanced after their time within the Essence Pool, suddenly looked as though they had just undergone the worst ordeal imaginable.

Their previously immaculate hair was disheveled as strands of silver and pale hair had fallen across their faces.

Their clothes were in disarray, with several portions of their garments fluttering loosely from the force of the shockwave.

Dust clung to their bodies; even their expressions, usually composed, detached and dignified, now carried traces of the chaos they had just endured.

If anyone were to see them in that state, they would appear no less than survivors dragged from the wreckage of a natural disaster to them.

But now was hardly the time to concern themselves with beauty or aesthetics because there were more immediate problems.

After that terrifying attack, it seemed the wolves were still not finished with them yet. This is because the moment Vaelorin’s wall of flames disappeared, the Alpha wasted no time in lowering it’s head and releasing another low growl.

"GRRR!!!"

This time, however, the formation created by the pack’s earlier congregation was no longer necessary.

After all, they had accomplished what they intended. The fiery barrier was gone and finally, their prey was exposed.

So after hearing their Alpha’s command, the wolves began eying the group with crimson eyes glowing with savage hunger and murderous intent.

And the next moment, the entire pack pounced into action as the wolves surged forward almost simultaneously.

The group did not need to be told twice.

They immediately repositioned themselves, adopting combat stances as they prepared to withstand the oncoming onslaught.

Yet Regaleon did not issue any orders this time as he usually did.

He did not tell Vaelorin where to stand neither did he instruct Valmyr to protect the rear nor tell Aureleah which target to prioritize. Instead, he left them to their own devices, giving them the space to fight freely and according to their desire.

The silver-haired Knight had been thinking about Aelric’s earlier words of treating the wolves as sparring partners.

At first, Regaleon had interpreted the statement rather literally. But the more he thought about it, the more he began to understand what the green-eyed youth truly meant.

As a matter of fact, if he were to make an educated guess, then he would say that this entire arrangement had been designed for one purpose only... To give them time to adjust to their newfound strength and to force them to test the limits of their transformed bodies.

Most importantly, it is also to stimulate the potential that still lay dormant within them.

Honestly, Regaleon was not far from the truth.

For most practitioners, immediately beginning intense training or engaging in combat after a breakthrough was not merely a tradition; it was a necessity... And absolute one.

These actions were not performed because practitioners possessed an insatiable desire to prove their newfound strength.

Rather, they were necessary because they allowed cultivators to become accustomed to their enhanced physical capabilities and calibrate themselves as quickly as possible.

A breakthrough fundamentally altered the body; strength increased alongside speed, endurance and durability. Even one’s perception of physical movement could change.

And without proper adjustment, that newfound power could become a liability instead of an asset.

A person accustomed to moving with ordinary human strength could easily miscalculate after becoming an Etheryean.

A punch could become too powerful, a step could become too fast and a movement that previously required effort might suddenly become effortless.

In a nutshell, learning how to control that difference was just as important as acquiring the strength itself.

Regaleon understood this. And after deducing Aelric’s intentions, he realized that trying to direct the others through every exchange would ultimately accomplish the opposite of what they needed.

If he continued barking orders, the others would simply rely upon his judgment.

They would follow instructions, they would execute commands but they would not truly learn how to fight with their new bodies.

And that was where the issue laid because if they could not fight and act according to their own instincts and judgment, then he would be doing them no benevolence.

So this time, each person was on their own.

They would have to think, react, adapt and survive. Besides, Regaleon was also certain that this situation would be easily achievable by the members of his group so there was no reason to worry about their well-being.

The multitude of wolves surged toward the seven of them like a tide made of fur, claws, and unrestrained bloodlust.

Their paws hammered against the earth while their bodies moved with frightening speed.

Every now and then, savage snarls and threatening growls erupted from the pack, blending into a cacophonous chorus that made the approaching beasts appear even more monstrous.

Yet despite the sight before them, the group remained composed.

Truthfully, if they were to lose their wits merely because a pack of wolves was charging toward them, then they would be betraying everything they had learned during their time surviving and training within the Nether Lands.

Since their exile, they had witnessed countless horrors.

They had fought creatures that could tear humans apart with ease and they had also encountered things that were far more grotesque than the wolves now charging toward them.

For that very reason, each person was able to maintain a semblance of rationality despite the overwhelming spectacle.

Even Veyrath, who was usually the first to shrink whenever he encountered something horrid and terrifying, managed to calm his nerves.

His fingers tightened around his already manifested Cauldron while his amber eyes remained fixed on the approaching wolves.

His breathing was controlled and his expression was tense, but he did not retreat. He had been afraid before but fear no longer had the same authority over him as it once did.

Not after everything they had endured.

Next to him, Valmyr still wore the wide grin he had displayed when he suggested taking the initiative and attacking the wolves.

If anything, that grin had become even more maniacal and unrestrained than before. The failed Vanguard looked less like a man preparing for a battle and more like a serial killer who had finally been granted permission to reap lived to his heart content.

His Great Shield was already raised, his Broadsword rested firmly in his other hand and his eyes were practically burning with anticipation.

The wolves drew closer, the ground trembling beneath the combined weight of the charging pack and amidst it all, the group stood their ground, their grips tightening around their Soul Essences as they got into combat postures.

Aureleah lowered her center of gravity, Vaelorin’s Fiery Aether began circulating through his body and Kaeloris adjusted his spectacles one final time.

Meanwhile, Regaleon remained still, his golden eyes moving across the charging beasts, calculating distances and trajectories even as his mind continued absorbing every detail.

The wolves were coming and the first line was almost within striking distance. Just like that, the moment the pack entered their range, the entire group burst into motion without hesitation...