Chapter 18: The Hunters’ Fatal Flaw

The two teams, one in the south and one in the north, had gathered at the call of Datha’s magic whistle. Datha glanced at the several demonized creatures with somewhat resentful expressions and said in a cold tone, “What, are you already discouraged after just this?”
“Sir, we’re fine,” replied the same observant demonized creature. The others also seemed to be energized as if injected with some special substance. They thought of the demon dog that Datha had killed earlier—a man from humble origins, cruel and heartless.
Yet among the demonized creatures, there were still those bold enough to speak up. “But they’re already extremely agitated. They want to chase freely!” the creature said, pointing at the immortal demon dogs.
Datha nodded with a dark expression; he had seen the same situation. Sensing their prey yet unable to pursue and kill at will, repeatedly stopped, slowed down, or forced to take detours, these demon dogs were already on the verge of losing control due to frustration.
This made Datha extremely annoyed. He had originally wanted to carry out his plan, believing that with slight adjustments, it would work perfectly.
The reason he had devised such a cautious plan was mainly due to his own advantages:
1. The dark glow was hard to dissipate, so the target wouldn’t get lost.
2. Demon dogs knew no fatigue, while the demonized creatures could replenish their energy by taking energy potions. He was confident in their sustained combat strength.
3. The magic whistle could emit sounds as well as inaudible audio vibrations. Different vibrations carried different meanings, allowing him to maintain secret, close coordination with the two flank teams.
Another reason he insisted on this cautious plan was that he had noticed the target attempting to switch roles and become a hunter—setting traps, waiting for the pursuers, then escaping in the opposite direction…
If they truly wanted to escape, the simplest approach would be to run in one direction straight ahead, even into the depths of the wilderness inhabited by magical beasts, using their speed to outpace the pursuers.
But what was happening in reality? The target kept circling, which naturally alerted Datha. What advantage did they have? Was their goal to stick closely to his group so that their accomplices could attack Tulip Town? Or were they just too foolish and naive?
Regardless of the reason, Datha thought: If I don’t scatter and stay together, making it impossible for you to defeat us one by one, and keep wearing you down, what tricks can you use? Those crappy traps? As for luring me away, I’ll just chase you to death and vent my anger on you. What can you do?
Yet the current situation proved that his considerations were somewhat insufficient. If it wasn’t by chance, then the opponent must have experience fighting them, knowing the weaknesses of the demon dogs.
Datha couldn’t help but take another look at those oddly shaped demon dogs. He leaned toward the latter conclusion, recalling what had happened in the North Bayleaf Forest the previous day.

Datha believed this werewolf had accomplices, but not many, as he hadn’t seen any red magic signals rising from Sors this early in the morning. That meant they had succeeded, meaning the main forces of the West Wind Berserkers and the Eagle Knights had been largely shattered.
“Scattered troops aren’t enough to take down Tulip Town, but they certainly won’t let themselves freeze to death in the fields of Edrit’s lands on this cold winter day. So they send elite scouts to lurk, assassinate, and destroy, while trying to draw out Tulip Town’s forces… Hmph, what a loyal warrior!” Datha thought he had fully understood the truth behind the events.
“Should I go back now? Go back with empty hands?” Datha asked himself and quickly found the answer. “No. The troops left behind in Tulip Town are enough to fend off those scattered forces, and they have the advantage of city defenses, hostages, and that terrifying old guy, Eirulus. Besides, it’s good for those who stay behind to suffer some losses. As for me, finishing what that old guy assigned me is never a mistake…”
Datha glanced again at those snarling, growling demon dogs. “A bunch of useless things, utterly disgusting!”
Datha took a deep breath. The icy air, carrying the scent of soil and trees, filled his lungs, helping to calm his anger somewhat.
“Alright!” Datha said in an unchallengeable tone to the dozen or so demonized men. “Let’s adjust our plan. The two flanking groups stay, but they should be closer to the main force. We’ll encircle and advance in a semicircle. Also, let the demon dogs go all out to attack, while we control things from behind. Once we start the pursuit, we won’t give our target even one second to catch their breath.”
“Aw…” The demonized men howled in unison. Several of them even clearly showed expressions like, “This is exactly what should have happened!”
With high morale and fighting spirit, this should be considered good news. Yet Datha faintly felt that perhaps this was exactly what the werewolf being hunted had been hoping for all along…
Datha was right. Nio was indeed waiting for this moment.
The battle that had taken place in the North Bay Leaf Forest the previous day had made Nio realize the weakness of the demonized—their irritability and anger. So today, whether it was the constant running and stopping along the way or shooting at the demon dogs later, it was all to provoke their fury.
When Nio saw the high-speed pursuit unfolding in the jungle, he knew the fire had been lit…
It was a high-speed chase through the jungle—a battle between hounds and a lone wolf.
Dashing, leaping, climbing—through forests, ravines, and rocky hills… In the initial stage, both sides maintained remarkable agility, holding back their strength silently. Wherever they passed, there were no unnecessary collisions; only swift, arrow-like figures streaking through the woods, scaring away small animals along the way.
Nio was now in human form, his speed much lower than when he was a werewolf. So he didn’t need to hold back, especially since the trees in this area weren’t dense, and his advantage of “Night Forest Wind” wasn’t significant.
Bang!

The magic-powered flintlock fired, hitting the front limbs of the charging demon dog. It swerved, rolled several meters, and with a thud crashed into a thick tree, causing the snow on its branches to fall in showers. The demon dog quickly turned over, got back on its feet, growled lowly with bared teeth, and continued its furious pursuit, seemingly unharmed by the injury. Demon dogs had remarkable resilience—a fact Neo had learned on that night in Solis City. He wasn’t in any hurry; the firing interval of the magic-powered flintlock was as long as a minute, yet this ensured high accuracy. Bang! Bang! The loud noises echoed through the forest. For ordinary wild animals, these sounds were even more terrifying than thunder. Hearing the gunshots, most would cower and flee. Some large birds also took off in panic, turning the forest quite lively for a time. Datha could faintly see Neo’s agile figure at the end of his line of sight. Staring intently as he ran, Datha understood Neo’s intentions and was frustrated by having to take the offensive passively. Yet he knew now wasn’t the best time to act. A dark minion as patient as Datha was truly unusual—at least he was the only one among these hunters. The demon dogs became the first to go berserk, their eyes bloodshot and mouths dripping with saliva, acting like mad dogs. They no longer tried to be agile; instead, they charged straight ahead wherever there were no large trees blocking their path. More branches broke, more snow fell from the trees, and their growls grew sharper and clearer… Neo knew the demonized undead behind him had turned into “furious runners”! Bang! After firing another shot, Neo turned and led his pursuers into a forest area he called the “sub-dense layer.” Here, the trees were noticeably denser, with clusters of low shrubs visible from time to time. Having shed their leaves in winter, these shrubs resembled stiff thorny branches. They had a local name: “tripwires.” They were toughest in autumn and could be used to make simple traps, while in winter, they were as hard as iron bars! The terrain here was also much steeper, with slopes exceeding 40° in many places. In several areas, rock lay beneath the thin layer of snow instead of soil, making it easy to slip. In such conditions, Neo’s “Night Forest Wind” advantage became evident. Like a dragonfly dancing on the water’s surface or a frog leaping across lotus leaves, Neo’s movements were light yet agile. His strength and skill were perfectly displayed in his delicate actions, often leaving people in awe. In such situations, every movement Neo made was crucial. It kept his body from colliding with obstacles like protruding branches or rocks on the ground. Even in narrow gaps between trees that seemed impossible to pass through, he could squeeze through by shrinking, darting, twisting his waist, or swaying his hips—his agility reminded one of cats or chipmunks passing through tiny holes or squeezing through fences.

The hunters didn’t possess Neio’s skills. The demonized ones had to selectively clear obstacles from their path while chasing. Of course, they were efficient at this—after all, their bodies were weapons. Their claws, covered in a layer of dark light, served as perfect axes; with a single swipe, branches as thick as a wrist could be severed in one go. Yet, the journey required more than just cutting and slashing. From time to time, some demonized ones would slip or get stuck in tree branches they thought they could pass through. While pain was secondary in such cases, it mainly slowed them down and enraged them greatly. Watching the fleeing figure ahead, some couldn’t help but curse loudly! Compared to the demonized ones, the demon dogs chose a more direct method—brutal charging. In such terrain, they could still advance in a crushing manner, sending plants and snow flying wherever they went—true beasts! But as they moved forward this way, they began to pay a price. Thicker, harder, and sharper wood fragments, stones, and rock edges caused them injuries as they were destroyed. The demon dogs’ skin was indeed tough, even tougher than that of the one-horned rhinoceros thanks to the power of darkness. But their speed was too great—so fast that those obstacles were like swords swung with force—resulting in increasing numbers of wounds on their bodies. Pain constantly stimulated their nerves, making them even angrier and causing them to ignore the warning signals of pain. They were self-destructing, falling into a vicious cycle. At such times, their “war pig” trait—where greater anger led to greater disregard for pain—became a hazard, as it made them ignore how serious their injuries were, potentially leading to sudden death. By this point, Neio no longer needed to deliberately provoke the hunters. He just had to play the role of a guide—and above all, not get caught!