Beastmen from all over were gathering in the tribal square, surging forward with loud cries as if for a grand sacrificial ceremony.
Approaching the crowd was a tall, sturdy Wolf Beast.
Its entire body was covered in wounds, its matted fur so filthy its original color was indiscernible. A deep, abyssal chill, born from countless slaughters, was settled in its emerald-green, slitted pupils.
Its wolf ears suddenly perked up, and it scanned the crowd, searching for a long-missed figure. Without a sideways glance, it strode right into the throng of people.
The Beastmen instantly parted for him, like the sea before Moses.
"Lord Ling Hong..."
One Wolf Beast was so excited his eyes turned red. Beastmen had a keen sense of smell; there was no mistaking that scent!
An Jin stopped at the edge of the crowd. When she saw the Silver Wolf from a distance, she held her breath, a torrent of emotions churning in her chest.
She suddenly found herself afraid to recognize him.
