Chapter 80: Who Knows If the Wolf Pack Has Truly Withdrawn!

“Awooo!” At that moment, the howl of wolves echoed once more from the pack. Witnessing Qin Feng take down three of their own, the wolves grew even more ferocious, their eyes flashing with savage light. They were determined to eliminate Qin Feng. In the blink of an eye, three wild wolves broke from the pack, launching a fierce assault against him.

These three wolves coordinated their charge seamlessly, moving with such speed that they seemed to embody terror itself. Their powerful limbs propelled them forward in a relentless rush, like three streaks of lightning across the forest floor.

Wolves are creatures of cunning, and these three demonstrated perfect harmony in their attack. Each flanked Qin Feng from a different direction, shifting left and right, forming a constant triangular assault. Their auras were icy, their charges fierce, their gazes filled with ruthless intent, as though they would not rest until Qin Feng was torn to shreds.

In a flash, they had closed to within a meter of Qin Feng, leaping at him almost simultaneously. The first wolf lunged for his throat, the second aimed for his chest, while the third targeted his legs, seeking to destabilize him. If Qin Feng fell, they would easily have the upper hand.

Their coordination was flawless, their intent lethal.

In that instant, Qin Feng sensed a life-or-death danger unlike any he had ever faced. He knew the attack was both ferocious and perfectly timed; a single misstep could leave him at their mercy, ripped apart by wild wolves.

“Come on, then.” Qin Feng remained calm, eyes fixed on the three attackers. Gripping his military dagger, he observed their movements, ready to strike at any moment.

As the wolves reached him, Qin Feng acted. He lashed out with the blade—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! Three flashes of cold steel cut through the air, each stroke finding its mark.

With a sickening sound, blood sprayed forth. The three wolves traced graceful arcs through the air before crashing heavily to the ground, scattering dust and leaves everywhere. The carnage was complete; they hadn’t even managed a dying cry. Their eyes were wide with disbelief, unable to comprehend how Qin Feng could move so quickly, how he had discerned their attack vectors and dispatched them before they could react. But whether they understood or not, Qin Feng’s speed was undeniable, his counterattack merciless.

“In all martial arts, speed is the key to invincibility,” Qin Feng said quietly, gazing at the fallen wolves. He knew that only by being fast enough could he hope to overcome such threats.

Although he had slain three wolves, Qin Feng was well aware that his situation remained dire. But in the face of danger, he had unleashed a remarkable fighting spirit, one that radiated an extraordinary battle aura, demonstrating the true ferocity of combat.

He had to survive—he had to return to see Su Yun. He could not afford to die here, not torn apart by wolves. Only by making it back alive could he see her again.

“Come on then, wolves, let’s see who will be the last one standing.” Qin Feng challenged the pack, his voice steady but brimming with fighting spirit. He knew the wolves were fearsome, but his own strength would not falter—he would unleash every ounce of his power.

With a sudden shout, a surge of vital energy erupted from him, his presence swelling to fill the forest. He stood like a god of war, ready to annihilate any who dared approach.

His gaze never left the pack, his entire being emanating a chilling aura. In that moment, the temperature seemed to drop by tens of degrees, as though the forest had become an ancient glacier—utterly cold and forbidding.

A chorus of whimpers rose from the surviving wolves. They began to retreat, shaken by Qin Feng’s overwhelming strength, terrified by the murderous intent that radiated from him. His fighting will was like a raging storm, his demeanor that of the most dangerous predator in the wild. In their eyes, Qin Feng had become the most fearsome creature of the forest—one not to be trifled with, lest they meet their end before they even realized it.

The wolves scarcely dared to breathe as they turned and fled, trembling with fear, their courage shattered. None dared remain or challenge him further. The atmosphere was so thick with the scent of battle that they could not hope to prevail; escape was their only choice.

“I can’t be sure if the wolf pack is truly gone. I must stay vigilant and recover my strength as quickly as possible. Only then will I be ready for whatever dangers await,” Qin Feng thought to himself.

He knew well that a battlefield was ever-changing, and the forest around him was now just that—a battlefield. Though he had driven off the pack, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t return. He had to be cautious, to restore his strength and prepare for another assault.

He understood wolves. Unless they had retreated far out of sight, he could not assume safety. Wolves were apex predators, creatures of intelligence and cunning. Though they appeared to be withdrawing, there was no telling if this was a ruse—they might very well attack again at any moment, feigning retreat only to strike when he was off guard.

When prey shows weakness, wolves strike swiftly and ruthlessly. That is how they hunt, how they survive.

And so, Qin Feng let not a trace of relaxation show. He remained alert, watching his surroundings intently, ready for the possibility that the pack might attack again at any moment.

He knew just how formidable a wolf pack could be, their assaults terrifying in their ferocity. To face them was to know true danger, to understand how remarkable an adversary the wolf truly was.

“I wonder if the pack has truly retreated.” Qin Feng watched them carefully. It seemed they really were fleeing, their courage broken, unwilling to linger a second longer. All they wanted was to escape, to survive and fight another day, to continue their reign over this forest.