"Level 2 werewolf?" Rudolf finally caught a fleeting moment of panic on Jennifer's face. These young ladies living in the castle had probably only seen a werewolf or two during the full moon sacrifices, and even then, they were just Level 1 werewolves. In the wilderness, a Level 2 werewolf was already synonymous with danger.

  "Moreover, our enemies could be 30 to 50 werewolves—a terrifying number."

  "Fifty werewolves?" Jennifer was still in disbelief. That number was indeed overwhelming. If they were surrounded by so many werewolves, the cavalry would lose its greatest advantage—speed.

  "What’s your name?"

  Sir Jacques had silently approached.

  "Rudolf."

  The knight's voice startled him. Jacques’ face was cold as ice.

  "Rudolf, patrol officer. Whether your guess is true or not, if this were wartime, I would not hesitate to execute you for disturbing military morale. But you’re lucky—this isn’t wartime. You’ve dodged a bullet."

  Rudolf frowned, unsure of what to say.

  Seeing her father, Jennifer regained her courage.

  "I know that Sheriff Claude recently took down a Level 2 werewolf. I believe our knight’s castle can do the same!"

  That was the most dangerous illusion of all—if others can do it, so can I...

  Sheriff Claude had been a Level 2 alchemist for over a decade. Both in bed and on the battlefield, he possessed extraordinary physical prowess. The fact that he managed to kill a werewolf of the same level didn't mean these knights could do the same.

  Even knowing they might face Level 2 werewolves, the people from the knight’s castle still came. Rudolf said nothing more. Perhaps Sir Jacques had his own plans.

  He silently returned to his position.

  You can't persuade the damned.

  Rudolf felt his warning had been unnecessary.

  He fell to the back of the team and pointed in a direction.

  "Ivonne, later, run towards—"

  Rudolf hesitated mid-sentence and abandoned the idea.

  His owl's reconnaissance revealed two more werewolf tribes in that direction, each led by a Level 1 werewolf with its pack of wolf thralls.

  A total of five werewolf tribes... The sheer number of werewolves was overwhelming.

  The cavalry ahead had already begun accelerating, the pounding of hooves echoing against the ground.

  Rudolf quickly kept pace, using his owl to search for weak points in the werewolves' encirclement.

  Jennifer’s face was serious. She couldn't help but ask her father, "Why didn't we come to hunt werewolves during the day?"

  "Werewolves won't fight us in the daytime. Only at night can we encounter them. Now is the perfect chance to strike."

  Seeing the unwavering look in her father’s eyes, Jennifer fell silent.

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  "Find a direction to break through first," Jacques commanded. "We must leave the forest and lure the werewolves to the plains, where I can fight them on my terms."

  Following the knight’s orders, the cavalry swiftly changed course.

  The team hadn't ventured too deep into the forest. The edge of the woods wasn’t far, and that was where Jacques’ confidence lay.

  As long as they reached the open plains, cavalry feared no werewolf.

  The knights galloped at full speed toward the forest's edge. Fortunately, the trees near the outskirts weren’t densely packed.

  Rudolf let out a breath of relief.

  At least the knight wasn’t an absolute fool, charging blindly into the werewolves while shouting some ridiculous battle cry. As long as he wasn’t a complete idiot, that was good enough.

  Then—gunfire rang out behind them.

  Rudolf had already spotted shadows darting through the jungle. The werewolves were closing in.

  The shot was meant to scare them off.

  But it only heightened the tension in the squad.

  On both sides of the cavalry, two werewolf tribes emerged from the woods—each with more than a dozen werewolves weaving between the trees.

  The sheer force with which they crashed through the undergrowth was chilling.

  Rudolf signaled for Ivonne to hurry and stick close to the regular cavalry.

  The werewolves quickly assessed the situation and locked onto their weakest prey—the ordinary riders.

  One by one, the werewolves burst from the trees, lunging at them.

  What surprised Rudolf was that Jennifer and her siblings actually slowed down.

  Knight squires were like apprentice spellcasters—just initiates on the path of the Templars.

  Jennifer and her two brothers didn’t accelerate to escape but instead chose to share the risk with the regular cavalry.

  That was unexpected.

  Did knights really think this way? Protecting the weak?

  A few werewolves had already pounced on the cavalry, knocking down one or two riders. Their sharp fangs struggled against the knights’ steel armor.

  The squad quickly shifted formation.

  Each knight squire led four or five cavalrymen, forming tight triangular units. These groups immediately struck back at the werewolves.

  The knight squires were far stronger than the ordinary riders, their movements swift and powerful.

  Jennifer and her brothers spearheaded the charge, while the knights on both flanks swung their greatswords at the werewolves.

  Astonishingly, the three knight squires and their teams managed to hold their ground against two entire werewolf tribes.

  Beyond their initial ambush, the werewolves couldn’t gain the upper hand.

  Rudolf and Ivonne found themselves in an awkward position—they weren’t part of any knight-led unit.

  They edged toward the center, trying to stay close to the knight squires' formations for safety.

  Ahead, sounds of battle erupted from where Sir Jacques was fighting.

  There were pained howls—werewolves were being beaten badly.

  After a grueling ten-minute pursuit, the cavalry burst from the forest.

  Three regular cavalrymen had fallen.

  As the hoofbeats faded, Jacques raised a hand, signaling the knights to slow down and reorganize.

  He stood at the front, his three children behind him—the only noble family of Lyman Town.

  Behind Jennifer and her brothers, the knights formed a massive wedge formation, staring into the darkened forest.

  Rudolf and Ivonne remained at the back.

  Rudolf was now deeply curious about the knights' capabilities.

  Then, at the forest's edge, dark figures emerged—werewolves.

  The five werewolf tribes fanned out like five fingers, forming a semi-circle around the knights.

  Perhaps the werewolves were confused, wondering why knights from the human settlement had invaded their newly conquered territory at night.

  Jacques raised his greatsword and swung it forward.

  "Knights—charge!"

  A brief standoff.

  Then, a deep, guttural howl rang out from the depths of the forest.

  A Level 2 werewolf’s call—like a battle command.

  Instantly, all five tribes surged forward.

  Jacques led the charge, his greatsword glowing faintly with white light.

  In the night, that light was mesmerizing—a symbol of power piercing the darkness.

  Behind him, every knight raised their greatsword, except for Rudolf and Ivonne.

  "Ivonne," Rudolf muttered, "next time we ride with the knights, we should bring swords. Otherwise, we look out of place."

  The knights thundered forward.

  The werewolves closed in.

  Rudolf locked eyes with one.

  In its gleaming pupils, he saw only disdain.

  There were too many.

  The werewolves outnumbered the knights two to one.

  His gaze snapped toward Sir Jacques and his children.

  This was his chance to truly understand the strength of the knights.

  Then, a chilling sight—at the forest’s edge, flanked by two blackened tree trunks, stood a towering figure.

  A Level 2 werewolf.

  Rudolf's scalp tingled.

  The beast’s broad shoulders, thick limbs, and long, razor-sharp claws reaching down to its knees...

  Those claws—ten centimeters long—gleamed like deadly short swords.

  Wolf blades.

  Rudolf swallowed hard.

  This battle had just taken a terrifying turn.