Chapter 133: Too Handsome for His Own Good!

An hour ago, this place had still been a battlefield.

Brook covered his nose. The faint stench of blood seemed to linger in the air.

They had come upon a dwarf village that had been raided by werewolves. The corpses of the villagers lay piled together in dense heaps, every last supply had been looted, and the walls were smeared with blood—a clear testament to the ferocity of the battle that had taken place here.

To prevent the spread of plague, the surviving dwarves intended to burn the bodies. They gathered around the corpses and wailed bitterly, their grief palpable to everyone present.

Linley stared silently at the dead. He had never imagined that werewolves could be so savage, leaving not even a single intact corpse behind.

“Burn the bodies,” Linley ordered.

The royal mages immediately cast their spells, raising flames that consumed the heaps of chicken bones, duck bones, and dog bones.

It was truly horrifying. The werewolves had not even spared the dogs.

“Are you certain the werewolves did all this?” Brook turned and asked the dwarf villagers.

The villagers cried out in anguish.

“Of course it was them! We discovered them hiding in the cellar ahead of time, but we never imagined they would eat all our pets!”

“My Big Yellow! Waaaah!”

The villagers wept bitterly. Brook turned to one of the paladins, who gave a slight nod.

“We have investigated thoroughly. There is no doubt the werewolves did this. Their food must have run out, so they came here to seize our provisions.”

The paladin looked sorrowful. “But I never imagined they would even spare the frogs.”

The pond in the village had been emptied as well, and the bones of several frogs remained behind. The paladins had not thought the werewolves could have been driven to such desperate hunger.

Lady White’s expression grew grave. “Then there are werewolves nearby?”

Everyone’s expression became solemn. They were about to pass through a canyon, and if werewolves were lurking in the vicinity, that was the most likely place for them to lie in wait.

The canyon was the only route to Sloka. The werewolves surely knew that reinforcements would be coming to Sloka and had taken the opportunity to secure the passage in advance.

“Are there any other roads leading to Sloka?” Brook asked Bell.

Linley had already healed Bell, but his face was still pale. “No. I know every road in the kingdom like the back of my hand. If we avoid that canyon, we’ll lose another half a day.”

Sloka was already on the brink of collapse. Half a day was too long; they could not afford the delay. Brook considered the matter carefully, then turned his gaze toward Linley, wanting to hear his thoughts.

“Let’s go through the canyon. We have griffins,” Linley said.

They had brought several griffins with them, which could survey the area from the sky. Even if the werewolves attempted a surprise attack, they would have ample time to react.

After discussing the matter, everyone agreed that Linley’s reasoning was sound. Their group was not large, but it contained many powerful warriors. There was no reason to retreat without a fight.

As they entered the canyon, Linley had Eve and several royal mages scout the area from griffin-back. Brook ordered several paladins to lead the way and guard against an ambush.

“It doesn’t look as though there’s an ambush.”

Eve and the mages flew above the canyon, carefully examining the forests on either side. The area was deathly quiet, and even Eve’s lantern revealed no sign of an enemy.

The mages had found nothing either. Even if the werewolves could deceive Eve, they could never deceive these royal mages. Flying at the very front, they would alert the party at the first sign of danger, giving everyone time to withdraw.

They had made it halfway through the canyon without incident.

“Your Highness!”

One of the leading royal mages shifted his gaze deeper into the canyon. Between the jagged rocks below, he saw hundreds of werewolves standing in orderly ranks. They wore white armor and made no attempt to conceal themselves.

“There are werewolves ahead!”

The paladins scouting the route had also noticed something amiss. They immediately rode back to report.

The werewolf army blocked the middle of the canyon openly and without the slightest hint of deception.

“They’re here!”

Grove looked up at the griffins in the sky. Just as he had expected, attempting a surprise attack with those griffins overhead would have been foolish.

Grove was a legendary figure among the werewolves. He had been born in the Land of Flame in the southern reaches of the Falon Continent, where he had learned the courage and honor of battle.

He was a mighty warrior and commanded one of the werewolves’ finest units. Ninety-nine magical sigils were carved into his body, each one representing ten honorable opponents he had slain. He had personally killed nine hundred and ninety-eight such adversaries. If he encountered two more today, he would be promoted to prince.

A blue sphere of energy fell from the sky. With a sharp metallic rasp, Grove drew his sword and swept it across. The energy sphere was cleaved cleanly in two without the slightest error.

“You are not qualified to be my opponent!”

Grove looked up at the royal mage in the sky. The mage was powerful, but not powerful enough to serve as his opponent.

The party halted before the werewolves. Grove’s body towered before them like a pillar of steel.

“How strong!”

Brook and Lady White, standing at the very front, thought the same thing. Every werewolf in the formation possessed considerable strength, but the man standing at the center, wearing a strange mask, was especially unfathomable.

“The Third Legion of the Holy Luo Empire. Grove. Rank: Swordmaster.”

The werewolf swordmaster fixed the paladins with a gaze full of battle lust.

“I have been waiting for you.”

Grove raised his hand and gave his sword a casual wave. Scorching flames surged up from both sides of the canyon, surrounding the two armies in the blink of an eye.

His gaze first settled on Brook. The aura emanating from the paladin was immensely powerful; he was worthy of being Grove’s opponent.

Then Grove looked toward Lady White, and surprise flickered through his heart. This woman’s strength was no weaker than that of the paladin beside her.

Grove’s blood began to boil. He was extraordinarily fortunate today. With two experts before him, he would surely earn the Emperor’s reward if he cut off their heads.

Although Grove disdained fighting women, a powerful woman was another matter entirely.

“It looks like I’ll be having quite a battle today!”

Grove was delighted. His eyes swept across the others opposite him, and when they passed over Linley, his pupils suddenly contracted.

This man…

Where had he bought that mask?

It was simply too handsome!

Grove was consumed by envy and jealousy. Compared with his tiger mask, the rabbit mask on his own face was utterly humiliating, without the slightest trace of menace.

“I must take his mask!”

Grove made up his mind. The rabbit mask had been placed on his face by a rabbit-man who had defeated him in a duel. He could not simply throw it away, so he could only find an opponent and exchange it for another.

The mask on Linley’s face was excellent. And although Linley’s aura was not especially imposing, holy light burned in his eyes, revealing an unbreakable faith. Those eyes were even more terrifying than those of the two people before him.

“This is a true warrior.”

Grove sensed a kindred spirit. Though the man opposite him was weaker, he was a genuine warrior and therefore a worthy opponent.

Today, Grove could kill three such opponents—and obtain a new mask as well.