Chapter 91: Chapter 90: I’m Here to Slay Wolves

Basque was jolted to attention by Jon’s calm question.

He immediately realized that Jon wasn’t just asking out of curiosity or concern.

He intended to get involved in Nomu Village’s struggle against the wolf pack!

Although he didn’t know what this young man had been through, or where he had gotten a set of gear that rivaled a proper Knight Lord’s.

But compared to the murderous "barbarian" from three days ago who carried a wolf’s head, the Jon of this moment was more like a sharpened blade, polished and returned to its sheath.

Composed and reserved, yet radiating a harrowing edge.

An air like that couldn’t be faked!

Basque would bet his decade-plus military career on it: Jon had been through more than one life-or-death battle in the last few days!

’What a madman...’

And so, when he answered Jon, the Captain of the Guard’s voice unconsciously took on a hint of the seriousness he once used when reporting to a superior officer.

He laid out all the intelligence that the Hunter Squad and he himself had gathered over the past few days.

"The number of wolves on the outskirts this time is far greater than we estimated. It’s not ten or twenty of them—it’s closer to a hundred!"

"They’re holed up on Vulture Ridge, about ten miles northwest of the village, and it looks like they’re digging in."

"And from what the hunters who just returned have pieced together, those beasts are likely a combination of three different packs."

At this, Basque’s voice trembled, and he trailed off.

But Jon understood completely.

When the alphas of different packs meet, it’s almost always a fight to the death.

The fact that these three packs could coexist so peacefully meant there had to be a more powerful being keeping them in line. That was the source of the unease in Basque’s voice.

’A Wolf King? Now this is getting interesting.’

To the Northern People, a Wolf King was both a spiritual totem they aspired to and a source of terror on snowy winter nights.

Legend said that every Wolf King possessed incredible Power.

Some said that Wolf Kings were the Envoys of the Ice and Snow Goddess Samantha, ruler of the Shery Mountains. They came into the world to carry away those who dared to disrespect the majesty of the ice and snow.

Others claimed they were Priests who had been punished and transformed by the Ice and Snow Goddess, forced to devour one hundred human souls to regain their freedom.

Of course, Jon knew most of these were just scary stories spread through the grapevine by ignorant villagers.

A real Wolf King was simply a powerful beast—what players would call a "field boss."

Even the weakest Wolf King was at the level of a high-tier apprentice!

As for the stronger ones, not even an Official Level Professional could guarantee a win in a one-on-one fight.

But to him, a mere beast was hardly worth a second thought.

Before leaving Birch Town today, he had gone to the Sun Church and gotten two buffs from the Elder Priest.

One was [Sun’s Blessing], the other [Saint Fire Mark].

[Sun’s Blessing Level 10: Life Natural Recovery Speed +15/sec, Stamina Natural Recovery Speed +15/sec, Willpower Natural Recovery Speed +15/sec, Damage Received -30%. Time Remaining: 28h 51m 22s]

[Saint Fire Mark Level 10: Attacks apply one stack of "Saint Fire Mark." At three stacks, deal 300 Divine Attribute damage to the enemy. Time Remaining: 28h 51m 22s]

One was for sustain, the other for offense, and both were long-lasting buffs.

And under the effect of [Po Ao’s Gaze], not only were their values tripled, but their durations were as well.

The ability to maintain [Dragon Flame Dance] for an extended period was more than enough for him to carve a path through the wolf pack and complete the [Wolf Shadow Mystery] quest.

Not to mention, he had also learned two basic Aura Skills: [Impact Aura] and [Antagonism Aura].

[Impact Aura Level 1 (Ordinary): Costs 20 Willpower to activate. While active, deals 10 Fire-attribute damage to enemies within range every 5 seconds. Aura Range: 4 meters.]

[Antagonism Aura Level 1 (Ordinary): Costs 20 Willpower to activate. While active, increases the Armor Defense Value of allies within range by 10 points. Aura Range: 4 meters.]

One for offense, one for defense. While not incredibly powerful, they were enough to put his [Aura Mastery] to use.

So, after Basque finished, Jon gave a slight nod and replied in his usual, flat tone.

"Alright, I understand."

And those three simple words, like a stone tossed into a pond, sent endless ripples through Basque’s mind.

’Understood? And then what? What’s the plan? Where’s the coordination?’

The collaborative discussion and tactical planning he had imagined never happened!

The Captain of the Guard was momentarily stunned and asked subconsciously,

"Er... Jon, then... in that case, how should we coordinate with you?"

"Or maybe you want to go with the Hunters to scout the pack’s situation? Or make some preparations?"

Jon didn’t even turn to look at him. He just gave a casual wave, as if brushing non-existent dust from his shoulder.

"That’s not necessary."

He paused, as if giving the crowd time to digest his astonishing words, before offering an incredibly simple reason.

"When it comes to killing wolves, I’m all that’s needed."

The moment he finished speaking, he turned decisively and headed out of the tavern.

His thick fur cloak swirled in an arc, blocking the dozens of pairs of eyes that had been frozen on him—eyes filled with a mixture of shock, confusion, fear, and disbelief.

His iron boots struck the tavern’s rough wooden floor, making a steady, oppressive THUMP, THUMP sound.

His left hand rested casually on the hilt of the longsword at his waist. His posture was unhurried as he walked straight toward the entrance, vanishing into the wind and snow that billowed past the door flap.

It was as if time inside the tavern had frozen.

In Jon’s wake, there was no uproar, only a deeper, more suffocating silence.

The air was stagnant, so heavy it was hard to breathe.

"I’m all that’s needed."

The words echoed in everyone’s mind like a mantra.

Nearly a hundred vicious wolves—a threat that could mean annihilation!

In Captain Basque’s description, it was a disaster that would require the entire village’s mobilization, traps, and a call for reinforcements—a catastrophe they might only survive by paying a terrible price...

But the way the young man spoke of it, he made it sound as casual as stepping out to chop a bundle of wood!

The oppressive silence stretched on, lasting so long that when the firewood in the hearth let out an overburdened CRACKLE, the sound was like a pebble dropped into a lake, barely managing to break the stillness.

In a corner, one of the loafers who used to follow Hotte and Harlow in bullying Jon turned pale as a sheet. His body trembled uncontrollably, and a dark, wet patch silently spread across his crotch as the thick stench of urine filled the air.

His companion was no better, his teeth chattering and his gaze vacant.

The Hunters who had yet to depart exchanged glances, seeing only confusion in each other’s eyes.

They battled the beasts of the forests and mountains year-round; they knew better than anyone how terrifying a wolf pack could be, especially one of this size.

To them, Jon’s confidence sounded like a fantastic fairy tale.

Yet the changes in him and the presence he exuded carried an undeniable weight.

Finally, an old, hoarse voice, tinged with a dreamlike stupor, rose from a corner of the silent tavern.

"Is... is that really Jon?"

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