Chapter 212: Continuation Of The Battle II

One such person was Valmyr himself.

Amongst all the participants of the battle, Valmyr could be said to be the most active and the fiercest of them all. This wasn’t because he possessed the best overall fighting skills or anything of the sort. Rather, it was because the bulky youth fought with the mindset and intensity of someone who had completely abandoned the fear of death.

Every now and then, the failed Vanguard would let out a loud howl that sounded even more ghastly and bloodcurdling than the howls of the wolves themselves.

Amusingly, these strange noises that Valmyr happened to release every now and then would often scare the wolves away from attacking.

Despite how absurd it might sound, it really was the truth. The more Valmyr began to reveal that unhinged, maniacal side of himself that seemed to care for nothing else but the sight and smell of blood, alongside the satisfaction of ripping flesh apart, the more the wolves around the failed Vanguard began to regard him as something other than human.

If anything, they regarded him as something even more feral than the Alpha they revered.

Just standing there with his bloodstained, muscular body and Soul Essences dripping with fresh blood, Valmyr truly gave off the impression that he was some kind of battle fiend.

However, no matter how unhinged and maniacal he pretended to be, that still didn’t make him immune to the wolves’ attacks.

There was no mistake that the wolves hesitated whenever it came to fighting Valmyr. However, their Alpha’s command was absolute, and they could only bite the bullet and go through with their attacks.

Amusingly, as though to give themselves courage, the wolves let out snarls and growls that sounded uncannily similar to the battle yell or cry a scared man would give when faced with a terrifying situation.

And then, they attacked.

This time, however, they didn’t attack in ones or pairs.

They attacked in a frenzy, and within moments, they began overwhelming even the most physically powerful members of the group.

The more they attacked, the more wounds began appearing on the failed Vanguard’s body.

This time, it seemed that the wolves themselves had gone feral.

Snarls filled the air like the wailing of demons, undoubtedly striking fear and panic into the hearts of any weak-minded person unfortunate enough to hear them at that moment.

Having bolstered their courage with those cries, the wolves then began activating and engaging that particular Impulse, and it wasn’t long before blood was drawn from Valmyr’s flesh.

The beast armour he was clad in could be said to be one of the very few pieces of beastskin the group had ever harvested that was durable enough to withstand powerful attacks.

To be precise, this armour had been skinned from the tiger that had almost killed him, Vaelorin, and Regaleon just a few days ago at the abandoned temple.

At that time, the giant feline had activated a defensive Impulse so powerful that even Regaleon’s Halberd couldn’t break through it. Every time it was struck, the only evidence that their weapons had any effect on it at all was the eruption of sparks and other debris.

However, that same durable armour was now being torn to shreds whenever the wolves’ claws touched him.

Surprisingly, despite the multitude of injuries being inflicted upon him—especially now that they had reached the midst of the fight, where things had become even more intense—Valmyr still fought like a man possessed.

He didn’t stop laughing, nor did he stop his rampage as he continued sweeping through the wolves.

In fact, there was a point in the battle when several wolves jumped him, biting into various parts of his body.

But rather than feeling pain, he felt somewhat euphoric.

If one didn’t know better, they might have thought that the failed Vanguard was a masochist and that pain was something that delighted him.

However, they would have been absolutely mistaken in that assumption.

The true reason why Valmyr seemed so carefree was because he had absolute confidence in his abilities as an Etheryean.

He knew that these seemingly grievous injuries would mostly heal on their own during or after the battle.

So why did he have to worry about them when he could instead focus on the particular exhilaration he was getting from the fight?

For that reason, and with that thinking, he continued fighting without consequence.

And though he might seem reckless at first glance, Valmyr was absolutely careful whenever he clashed with the wolves.

He made sure to implement the Essence Runes associated with his Great Shield, using them to either withstand a barrage of attacks or an overwhelming onslaught, while ensuring that he continued reaping the lives of the wolves with the edge of his sword.

Meanwhile, as Valmyr continued to fight like a god of war and have the time of his life, Veyrath was having none of it.

The failed Alchemist’s emotions were all over the place like a tangled mess, and because of that, he had been having a tough time finding his rhythm during the fight, especially at its beginning.

Like it had been established before, Veyrath no longer allowed his fear to control the way he reacted to situations or dictate the way he acted upon them.

However, that was easier said than done.

Perhaps because he had spent so much time observing the battle from within the safety of Vaelorin’s fiery wall, Veyrath had subconsciously developed a sense of complacency, and the moment he started battling, that mindset cost him.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he abandoned it and began to fight like a true survivor.

One could say that, of the group, Veyrath was perhaps the only person amongst them with supportive and non-lethal Soul Essences and Essence Runes, making him a non-combatant, besides Sylveris.

However, despite his seemingly noncombatant nature, Veyrath had learned during the course of the battle to always turn his Cauldron into a weapon, as had been the case in previous battles.

Therefore, with the desperation of a man with nothing to gain but everything to lose, Veyrath continuously swung his Cauldron at every approaching maw or claw.

Surprisingly, the Cauldron, which had once weighed a ton during previous uses, now seemed light enough that Veyrath was actually using it like some sort of makeshift warhammer.

As it turned out, being an Etheryean really did have its perks, and super strength just happened to be one of them.

Metallic sounds reverberated throughout the atmosphere with heavy resonance whenever his Soul Essence struck a pouncing wolf.

And because of that peculiar cacophony, it wasn’t long before the atmosphere was filled with a symphony of clanging metal comparable to the thunderous chorus of a battlefield.

On another bright side, Veyrath’s Cauldron was durable enough to withstand and endure whatever Impulse the wolves assaulted him with.

As a matter of fact, one could say that because of this particular advantage, Veyrath had been able to survive throughout the fight.

Perhaps it was because of its high Tier or something else, but the failed Alchemist’s Cauldron was actually more useful at that moment than ever.

On the other hand, however, having a seemingly indestructible Cauldron didn’t erase the possibility of severe injuries.

Despite the fact that he was doing his utmost, Veyrath couldn’t prevent most of the wolves from leaving marks on him.

However, unlike Valmyr, who looked like a bloodied beast, Veyrath’s wounds were mostly healed before they could even fully manifest.

This was owing to another perk of his breakthrough: his massive vitality, which granted him a seemingly undying body.

No matter how injured he became or how grievous his wounds were, Veyrath simply healed from them as though they were nothing more than minor scratches.

And perhaps that was the reason alchemists were mostly feared by other cultivators—not for their fighting experience or skills, but for their seemingly unending stamina that made battles of attrition an unfair contest for the other party.