“Hoo~ hoo~ hoo~” The faint sounds of breathing echoed through the small grove.
Lysander leaned against a large tree, her arms crossed and her face devoid of expression. Her cold, piercing gaze subtly swept over her surroundings from time to time.
“Swish, swish, swish.” Lysander instantly whipped her head towards the source of the sound.
“Hm? No one?” Lysander’s senses sharpened even further. ‘It seems this forest is growing increasingly dangerous,’ she mused.
“Thump!” Lysander propped herself against a massive humanoid creature with one hand, meticulously examining its features. ‘Is this a werewolf, much like a beginner boss, as Qiweiya would say?’ she wondered.
With a swift backflip, she retreated. From the rustling grass, more and more werewolves emerged, forming a vast encirclement around them.
Lysander slowly surveyed the estimated hundred-plus werewolves, raising her fists. She decided it was more prudent to worry about her own predicament than the three individuals sleeping soundly behind her.
These werewolves were remarkably intelligent, almost human-like. Observing that the other three prey had not awakened, they chose to deal with Lysander first, intending to eliminate the others one by one.
Lysander showed no reaction to being underestimated, nor was it likely she ever would. The only one capable of stirring her emotions was probably the unique and unpredictable loli, Qiweiya.
Under the silent paw-wave of their alpha, the pack surged forward like a sweeping tide.
Though the wolf pack moved with incredible speed, Lysander, who thrived on swiftness, remained confident. Even in her current state, appearing strong on the outside but weakened within from serious injuries, she was certain she could easily shatter their frenzied assault.
Thick wolf claws and snouts appeared where Lysander had stood moments before. But she had vanished from her spot, reappearing ghost-like behind them.
Without a hint of hesitation, Lysander raised her leg, delivering a powerful kick that sent one werewolf flying. Her cold gaze then fixed on another that had appeared behind her, attempting a sneak attack.
She spun, her slender, silk-stockinged leg connecting intimately with the werewolf’s head. Blood spurted, fangs shattered, and the failed attacker was sent soaring through the air, experiencing the exhilarating sensation of flight.
Feeling the rush of wind by her ear, Lysander instinctively ducked and executed a classic Armstrong Spiral Kick, a whirlwind that forced back the encroaching pack.
The werewolves watched Lysander warily. She moved with an unhurried grace, displaying no defensive stance, as they circled the perimeter, waiting for an opportunity.
Lysander’s face remained impassive, clearly unaffected by the pointless antics of these minor threats. Her white boots pressed into the soil as she walked towards where Qiweiya slept.
Six werewolves, unable to resist, immediately moved to flank her, as if this maneuver would instantly turn the tide in their favor.
Lysander showed no panic. Her form was like a swimming dragon as she effortlessly slipped past them. She raised a leg, hooked it around one werewolf’s neck, and violently spun it mid-air, flinging it towards three other werewolves who were rushing in to assist.
Her foot touched the ground as lightly as a lotus petal, and she vanished, reappearing before the two remaining werewolves in a blur. Her right hand became a claw, her left a hook. Her right hand seized one’s jaw, while her left gouged the other’s eyes.
“Crunch! Splat!” With two sickening sounds, both werewolves met their end at her hands—one with a shattered skull, the other with its brains splattered.
The wolf pack grew uneasy. Their alpha knew that if they didn’t quickly dispatch the young woman before them, their morale would plummet, turning them into cowering, tail-between-their-legs fugitives.
“Awooo—” At their leader’s command, the red-eyed pack charged towards Lysander, kicking up dust.
Lysander gazed at the overwhelming tide of beasts, her heart utterly unmoved. Her lips parted slightly. “Lady Qiweiya, how much longer do you intend to watch? I find pointless exertion to be rather unamusing.”
The bulging blanket stirred, and Qiweiya’s small head emerged, a sheepish smile on her face. “Ahaha~ I didn’t think you’d notice me! Lysander, you’re truly amazing, as expected!”
From another blanket, Lotharia, who had been feigning sleep, rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Even I, with my paltry cultivation, was woken up. Can you stop pretending? It’s embarrassing!”
Qiweiya watched the pack rushing towards Lysander, her eyes twinkling with amusement. (She stretched her hands.) “Since you little puppies have woken me up, I suppose I’ll have to entertain you personally.”
With a simple motion, she clenched her fist and punched. The air itself seemed to compress, visibly rocketing forward like a cannon blast.
“Boom—” Shards of rock, mingled with torn limbs and an exploding mist of blood, created a powerful visual impact.
The alpha werewolf quickly rallied the remaining werewolves, intending to retreat and flee.
But how could Qiweiya possibly grant its wish? ‘You woke me up, and now you think you can just waltz away? That’s far too irresponsible, isn’t it? At the very least, you’ll leave your dog-life behind for me.’
Moving in an instant, the alpha werewolf turned to flee, only to feel its tail seized with a dragon-like force, rendering it utterly unable to move.
Qiweiya smiled sweetly. “Did I say you could leave? I haven’t even properly ‘rewarded’ you yet~ If you just leave without a word, I’d feel terribly put out.”
With a slight tug of her slender arm, the werewolf was yanked into mid-air by an incredible force.
“Hey there, little ones~ Your big brother is here to play with you! Catch!”
With a mischievous grin, Qiweiya flung the disoriented and unconscious werewolf, which she had spun senseless, into the midst of the pack.
The impact created an empty space within the wolf pack. Qiweiya, understanding the principle of not giving an enemy a chance to breathe once a fight begins, didn’t pause.
She charged into the chaotic pack like a descending tiger, her small, adorable fists delivering earth-shattering blows to the werewolves.
These werewolves, usually a formidable presence in this world, were as fragile as paper before Qiweiya. Her blue, fairy-like figure weaved through the pack, and wherever she passed, a life inevitably fell.
The pack’s fragile nerves tightened. Numerous glowing green wolf eyes locked onto Qiweiya’s death-like figure, terrified that she might appear beside them at any moment and send them to their doom.
The alpha wolf watched Qiweiya effortlessly slaughtering werewolves as if plucking objects from a bag, and a flicker of terror appeared in its eyes. This was a disparity that numbers could no longer bridge. The alpha decided to take a few trusted subordinates and retreat, planning to regroup and grow stronger elsewhere. It was far better than a meaningless sacrifice here; it understood the simple truth that as long as the green mountains remained, there would be wood to burn.
Qiweiya spotted the alpha’s furtive movements and instantly understood its sneaky plan. ‘Trying to run? Trade your life for it!’
Under the alpha werewolf’s panicked gaze, Qiweiya abruptly materialized before it, bending her knee and pushing out her palm.
“Boom—” A turbulent current of air surged forth, and just like that, the alpha werewolf and its few trusted subordinates effortlessly exploded into several bloody mists.
Seeing their leader dead, the wolf pack scattered in terror. But how could Qiweiya let these creatures who had disturbed her peaceful slumber escape?
She raised her right hand, slowly unfurling her clenched fist. A restless, almost explosive, ice-blue orb of light hovered in her palm.
“Disperse~” At Qiweiya’s command, the orb fragmented, chasing after the fleeing werewolves and blasting each one to smithereens.
Qiweiya sniffed the pervasive scent of blood in the air with distaste. “Let’s go~ We can’t stay here any longer. The stench will attract countless demonic beasts. While they’re nothing to fear, we’re not here to play with meat-sandbags… I refuse to engage in such idiotic, pointless exertions.”
Lotharia looked regretfully at the werewolf meat on the ground. “Eh? So, we’re not taking this meat with us?”
Qiweiya shot the girl a glare. “Do you think we’re here for wilderness survival? If you want to learn from Bear, go ahead, but we won’t be joining you.”
Seeing them actually turn and walk away, Lotharia quickly followed. “Hey, hey! Don’t walk so fast, wait for me! It was just a joke, you know~ Is there really a need to be like this?”
Qiweiya was exasperated. “A ‘joke’ of international proportions! This time, it was just a few small werewolves. Next time, if a whole legion of demon soldiers shows up, we’ll be in deep trouble!”
Qiweiya reflected, “We were careless this time. If we had concealed our aura and been a little more cautious, we definitely wouldn’t have had this much trouble.”
“Ugh~ So, we won’t have to wear garlic and ginger, right? And onions too? I’m telling you, I absolutely hate onions; I’d die before I touch them!”
Qiweiya was speechless, yet also impressed by the loli’s wild imagination. “Do you think we’re still mortals? Don’t you know what magic and divine arts are… My goodness.”
Seeing Lotharia finally sensible enough to shut up, Qiweiya turned her head, her gaze seemingly piercing through countless obstacles to the Demon King’s city, a place she had once thoroughly ravaged upon her first visit. She murmured, “Demon King~ Your mother is back again!”
(The Demon King shivered, a vague sense of crisis washing over him, as if he had been targeted by something dangerous. ‘Ugh… I hope it’s not that Goddess of Ice and Snow. Otherwise, I’m truly finished~ No! I need to add more defenses! Someone! Bring me my three-meter greatsword; I’m sleeping with it tonight!’)