Chapter Sixty: Cliff
2014-11-28
Author: Floating Tower (诸生浮屠)
One, two, three…
The werewolves who went out to hunt returned to the camp. The burly leader with a scarred face discovered the corpses outside and let out an angry roar toward the sky—having fought against adventurers before, its humanoid intelligence made it realize that adventurers had attacked their camp, ruthlessly slaughtering the tribe’s offspring, just like they ruthlessly consumed those pitiful humans. The number of enemies was small, and they fled immediately upon noticing the werewolves returning.
Twelve werewolves gradually gathered.
This was a medium-sized werewolf tribe, with more than half being adult werewolves, a third being warriors, and a small number of newborns. With their inherent talent, they tamed three prairie dogs to assist them in hunting and serve as a food reserve when supplies were low. For werewolves, hunger could override everything; the weakest kin in the tribe could also become food when necessary.
They were born warriors and scouts, capable of tracking bl**d scents.
The werewolf leader approached the dead female wolf. The distinction between male and female werewolves was not significant; it was mostly a difference in size, with male werewolves generally being stronger. Female werewolves only displayed some obvious traits during lactation. It sniffed the sharp teeth of the female wolf, stained with Soren’s bl**d, then effortlessly lifted the three-hundred-pound female wolf with one hand, allowing all the werewolves to sniff it.
The memory of bl**d could last half a day; they could track the scent of bl**d within a kilometer.
Revenge!
This was the instinct of humanoid creatures.
Just as humans would seek revenge for their eaten companions, they too would seek revenge for their dead wolf pups.
The howls of wolves rose and fell.
The werewolves began to track the bloody scent. They were not the most powerful creatures in the wilderness, but they were definitely the most brutal and annoying. The instinctive talents of wolves allowed them to form tribes, obey the arrangements of stronger kin, and their innate beastly instincts made them natural hunters. Adult werewolves possessed a biological level of 3, and as long as they successfully advanced, they were close to becoming second-tier warriors. When active in groups, they could even hunt more dangerous creatures when hungry.
The determinant of the werewolf tribe’s size was food. As long as there was ample food, a female wolf could give birth to over ten wolf pups in a year.
If food was scarce, only the leader had mating rights.
This ensured the strongest offspring were born, while the other werewolf members could not reproduce and had to help raise them.
This was very similar to many wolf packs!
………………
In the dense forest.
Soren’s figure was moving rapidly, and in the wilderness, only rangers could easily shake off werewolves. With their ability to track bl**d scents, it was only a matter of time before they discovered Soren’s trail. These were merely werewolves from the material plane; in the outer planes, there existed a type of werewolf known as “Bloodsucker,” capable of tracking bl**d scents up to ten kilometers away. This group of beings were dangerous predators and assassins, their diet including lower-tier dragons.
A pack of werewolves charged into the dense forest, following the lingering bloody scent.
Soren needed more favorable terrain.
He could face more than ten goblins at once, but he could not handle more than ten werewolves simultaneously.
His stamina was gradually depleting while running.
Soren’s astounding physical constitution of 20 ensured his endurance. Conversely, after running one or two kilometers, the werewolves began to slow down. The dense forest significantly affected speed; even werewolves could not sprint at high speeds. Soren was also affected, but he possessed excellent agility and reflexes brought on by his extraordinary nimbleness. His balance, exceeding that of ordinary humans, allowed him to avoid most obstacles, and when faced with blocking shrubs, he could even leap onto tree trunks to gain leverage.
It was as if one had a spell of lightness while the other had to run on the ground.
The terrain ahead gradually opened up, revealing a peak with a vertical ninety-degree cliff and some three-foot-wide faults. Soren suddenly jumped up, grabbing onto the rocks to climb. Like a climbing enthusiast challenging human limits in his previous life, Soren climbed the cliff with remarkable speed and stood about twenty meters above the ground. The available space here was small; he could climb to the top from the side; the peak wasn’t very high, and it was bare rock.
Soren applied some ointment to the wound on his shoulder, then began to load the crossbow bolts, placing them into the small pocket at his waist that originally contained a handful of throwing knives.
To deal with werewolves, he had to avoid open terrain, as they could surround him for a surprise attack.
A pack of werewolves encroached, and even high-ranking warriors had to take a few hits, let alone him, a second-tier thief.
Setting traps worked best in specific areas; wilderness adventures rarely spent too much time laying traps. The wanderers’ battle in the wild resembled that of warriors relying on agility advantages.
Thus, the advanced branch of Wandering Swordsman appeared, a powerful profession for group battles.
In the distance, bushes quivered, and then burly werewolves emerged, led by a scarring-faced werewolf whose scar ran from its forehead bone down the side of its face—any further, and its eye would be destroyed.
“Finally here.”
Soren secured the crossbow at his waist, then pulled out a bl**d-soaked wolf’s head from his dimensional bag; it was the head of a werewolf pup he had packed before leaving.
“Aw! Aw! Aw!”
The howls rose again. The werewolves that had tracked his scent instantly turned their eyes bl**d-red, howling and rushing to climb the wall to tear him apart. (Taunt successful!)
Swoosh!
A crossbow bolt flew, and the leading werewolf stumbled, crashing against the cliff.
Soren calmly loaded another crossbow bolt, then hid his body behind the rocks. He aimed again at the werewolf he had shot, releasing another bolt toward its head.
Right in the skull, the bolt pierced right in.
A line of data appeared:
“Killed werewolf warrior!…”
“Dealt 36 points of lethal damage!… Target deceased… Gained 320 points of killing experience.”
Twenty-meter range.
The base attack strength of the crossbow could exceed 20 points, easily killing on a critical hit.
The werewolves climbed quickly, but a vertical 90-degree cliff wasn’t that easy to scale. Before several of them could rush up, Soren had already finished loading his crossbow, shooting down from a higher position. A werewolf climbing had no space to dodge; one shot in the neck fell down, barely hanging on to life, while another shot through the forehead immediately killed it.
“Awwoo!”
The leader’s wolf howl rang out, and the other werewolves finally realized the terrain was unfavorable to them. Some began hiding in the blind spots of Soren’s range, while others flanked from both sides, climbing along the side of the mountain, preparing to ambush Soren from both sides and above.
“d*mn, they’re reacting fast.” Soren stowed his crossbow.
He threw down the werewolf pup’s head and began climbing up the cliff. Although werewolves weren’t highly intelligent, they wouldn’t foolishly wait below as he shot them one by one. If they had launched a strong attack, he could have taken down five or six, but with a pincer from the sides, Soren had to shift his position.
His leaping ability could allow him to jump directly to the second floor, stronger than that of elves. Soren leaped up fiercely, grabbing a stone, then performed a 360-degree spin to land atop the peak. He quickly grabbed more crossbow bolts and aimed at the werewolves climbing on the side, who warily dodged, and the bolt struck the rock.
Clang!
Soren was not surprised; he drew out his curved blade and looked at the surrounding werewolves closing in, charging at the nearest one.
The terrain here was advantageous.
If the werewolves clustered together, he could slowly pick them off; if scattered, he could break them individually, at least not having to face three to five enemies at once. Unfortunately, he hadn’t mastered the “Woodland Strider” specialty; otherwise, he could have played them dead in the woods. Elven rangers loved leaping between tree trunks, using longbows to sh**t down enemies.
One k*ll could yield nearly three hundred points of killing experience; taking out half would be sufficient for him to gain levels!
……………… Abyss Master
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