Chapter 215: Pack’s Retreat

The clash of steel and flesh continued for quite some time until, eventually, as though deciding that they had had enough, the wolves suddenly began to disperse.

At first, their movements were discreet and gradual. A wolf would disengage from the battle, retreating several steps before another followed. Then another. But the more the group pressured them, the more apparent their intentions became.

And eventually, all of them erupted into a full-blown retreat.

During the battle, a low howl had sounded across the entire forest floor, and there was no doubt that it had been the Alpha’s signal for retreat. A few moments after the call sounded, the wolves began pulling away in coordinated bursts, abandoning their opponents one after another as they darted between the trees and disappeared into the crimson fog.

It wasn’t long before the members of the pack began diminishing until none of them remained on the battlefield. Well... None except the Alpha.

After watching the wolves retreat, the members of the group began coalescing and moving toward one another until they regrouped.

But none of them relaxed or celebrated just yet because the Alpha was still standing some distance away from them.

Although they knew better than to be frightened by a single wolf, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be cautious.

As a matter of fact, one could say that they were outright wary of this particular wolf. Because, if they were being honest, there was absolutely no doubt that this wolf was even stronger than the rest of the pack.

For an Alpha presiding over a pack consisting of Rank One Animas, the group had no doubt that the Alpha itself had to be a Rank Two or perhaps even a Rank Three Anima.

Their assumption wasn’t without basis.

Wolf packs, like many other social predators, are structured around a hierarchy determined primarily by strength and dominance. At the center of that hierarchy stands the Alpha, whose authority is established through its superior power and ability to command the rest of the pack.

Beneath it are the stronger members that help maintain order, lead hunts, and suppress challenges from weaker wolves. The remaining members naturally fall into their respective positions according to their strength and usefulness to the pack.

In a world where survival is determined by power, such a hierarchy is not merely social—it is necessary. The strongest leads, while the weaker follow, because defying the order of the pack can mean death.

So, for this reason alone, there was little doubt that the Alpha itself would be at least a rank or two higher than the rest of its pack members.

"What is it still waiting for?" Veyrath asked the moment he came over, his gaze remaining fixed on the Alpha.

The failed Alchemist was covered in blood from head to toe, most of it belonging to the wolves he had decimated with his Cauldron.

Speaking of his Cauldron...

The Soul Essence, which was originally an instrument meant for refining and improving life, now looked like something that belonged in the hands of a butcher.

The body of the Cauldron was smeared with layers of blood, fur, and scraps of flesh. Clotted blood had gathered along its metallic surface while strands of matted fur remained stuck to its edges. Here and there, fragments of torn flesh clung stubbornly to the Soul Essence, making the once-refined instrument resemble a gruesome implement of slaughter rather than something used by an Alchemist.

There was no doubt that the Soul Essence had been put through a baptism by Veyrath.

However, the failed Alchemist wasn’t the only one who looked as though he had crawled his way out of a sea of corpses as the others also bore that peculiar appearance.

Valmyr, for instance, now looked like someone who had recently bathed in blood.

As a matter of fact, the moment he regrouped with the rest, the stench of blood emanating from his body was so overwhelming that it almost seemed to choke the air around him.

His beastskin armour was now in tatters. Large portions of the material had been shredded away, leaving his bulky physique exposed beneath the remnants.

Coupled with his blood-soaked body, the failed Vanguard now looked less like a human warrior and more like a battle-hardened berserker who had just crawled out from the middle of a massacre.

Besides that, his Broadsword was drenched in blood, its edge still dripping with a mixture of flesh, fur, and viscera from the creatures he had fought.

Even his Great Shield wasn’t without evidence that a brutal battle had taken place. Scratches and stains covered its surface, with traces of blood marking the places where the wolves had repeatedly crashed against it.

However, despite the gore and carnage covering his body, Valmyr still wore that same unhinged grin on his face.

It seemed that the fight had been to his complete satisfaction, because the group could practically discern the exhilaration radiating from him.

Meanwhile, when compared to the grotesque appearance of Valmyr, both Kaeloris and Vaelorin were a level cleaner than him.

Though their faces were covered in sweat, grime, and blood, with Vaelorin’s own having ashes mixed into the mess, their bodies were still relatively pristine despite the streaks of blood marking portions of them.

This somewhat clean appearance was a direct consequence of the way they had fought during the battle.

One could say that, amongst the wolves they fought, only a small number had managed to reach them and inflict injuries.

All Kaeloris had to do was either bind or restrict the wolves with his Scroll, and Vaelorin would finish them off with either his Eruption Pulse or Solar Lance.

Their fighting strategy was methodical and synergetic; and because of that, it made them both efficient and fast throughout the battle.

Aureleah, on the other hand, was the cleanest of the group.

This appearance of hers was surprising and unsurprising at the same time.

It was surprising because the silver-haired Assassin had ensured that she ventured directly into the heart of the pack to eliminate her targets. Because of that, in the heat and thickness of the battle, there was no doubt that blood should have stained her by now. ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

However, it was unsurprising because, unlike the others—except Regaleon, who was protected by his Armour—Aureleah was covered by her Count Tier Shadow Cloak.

Therefore, whenever she killed a wolf messily, the resulting spray of blood merely splashed against her Cloak without having any effect on her.

The contrast was almost absurd.

While the others looked as though they had fought their way through a slaughterhouse, Aureleah appeared almost untouched.

However, now wasn’t the time to discuss the aftermath of the battle nor was it the time to admire who had managed to remain the cleanest.

Right now, there was a far more pressing matter that demanded their attention and they needed to address the elephant in the room.

And at this point, that elephant in the room was standing some distance away from them.

Seven feet tall, its massive frame covered in fur and its crimson eyes fixed upon them with an intensity that made the atmosphere itself feel heavier.

The savage Rank Two—possibly Rank Three—Anima had remained behind while the rest of its pack fled. And it was still watching them...