Chapter 22: A Hard-Fought Victory

Valentina took the lead, quickly locking her sights on the Mutant. The leader, the most threatening enemy—these were the primary targets to be eliminated first.
Compared to Valentina, who had years of experience in combat skills, this Mutant was nothing but a brute with raw strength. He was also someone who had grown arrogant from routinely oppressing ordinary people. Seeing dozens of cavalry charging at him, he shouted and gathered a few subordinates on the spot to mount a small-scale confrontation, aiming to teach these country bumpkins who thought they were cavalry a lesson.
Valentina had originally planned to take the path through the Fallen Leaves Valley to meet with Tures’ temporary lord and discuss moving eastward. Her group came lightly equipped, wearing only leather armor and cotton clothes, which explained why the Mutant mistook them for cavalry.
Just as those who suddenly become rich can’t help but show off their wealth, this Mutant eagerly launched two attacks with his Dark Evil Blade, targeting Valentina, who was clearly the leader of the cavalry.
As an excellent knight, Valentina and her horse, Black Boots, were far beyond the learning stage like Neo and White Socks—they had reached a level where they were one with their mount. Valentina didn’t even need reins; a few brief commands were enough to make her horse obey her instantly. The Mutant’s attacks were easily dodged by Black Boots. Meanwhile, Valentina swung down a Wind Blade with perfect timing and angle. As the Mutant landed after running, the attack struck. He barely managed to dodge, but Valentina was already upon him, her sword, wrapped in green combat energy, effortlessly slicing off his head.
Soon after, full-scale combat erupted between the cavalry and the Dark Claws.
The cavalry following Valentina mostly used black iron scimitars, with their weight centered at the back and sharp curved tips, giving them immense slashing power. Especially on the first strike, Neo glanced around and saw not a single failure—every cavalryman had achieved a kill or injury.
The attacks from the Dark Claws, in contrast, were rather chaotic. Some tried to knock the cavalry off their horses, while others used their huge, sharp claws to tear at the horses. Though they were far inferior to the well-trained Mathuya cavalry, their ferocious nature and strong combat power allowed them to inflict heavy casualties on the cavalry, costing them 7 men.
The arrival of cavalry reinforcements boosted the morale of Tures’ militia. Seizing this opportunity, Ebute organized the remaining two groups to assist in the defense, reuniting the two broken groups and stabilizing the precarious situation.
Cavalry feared losing speed the most. Valentina led her troops into battle, leaving those injured or fallen to fend for themselves.
In such circumstances, strong infantry fighters like Neo easily became saviors for the wounded.
“Hey!” Just as a Mutant was about to attack a dazed and injured cavalryman, a thunderous roar rang in his ears. Shaken, he instinctively turned around and saw a bright sword flash toward him. Before he could react, his head was severed.

A demonic dog lunged at him. As its massive claws neared, Nio, who usually appeared calm and steady, suddenly spun nimbly to avoid the attack, moving to the side of the beast. Without even looking, he swung his green steel sword diagonally backward, severing most of the dog’s head.

Immediately afterward, Nio dashed forward with a swift slide, leaving behind a trail of afterimages. With his left sword held in reverse, he slashed across the ribs of another demonic dog, spraying a large amount of bloody fluid. He stopped abruptly, turned around, and slashed downward with his right sword, splitting the dog’s spine in half.

Continuing to spin and twist, he suddenly accelerated, causing the snow beneath his feet to swirl outward. He thrust his left sword forward in a sweeping motion, engaging in a fierce exchange of blows with another corrupted creature that was attacking him. The corrupted creature’s sharp claws left deep marks on Nio’s armor, with one even drawing a gash near his collarbone. Meanwhile, Nio’s green steel sword cut through the creature’s waist and abdomen, spilling blood and intestines. The corrupted creature screamed in pain; before it could open its mouth again, Nio’s right sword pierced its skull, after which he threw it at a demonic dog that was lunging at a cavalryman whose leg was trapped under a fallen warhorse.

The demonic dog, caught off guard, was knocked to the ground by the corpse of the corrupted creature. As it tried to get up, Nio was already upon it, his right sword swinging like a wheel in wide, powerful cuts that severed the dog’s shoulder and neck.

He ducked under a sweeping claw strike from a corrupted creature that arrived too late to help, threw his left sword, which hit the ribs of another demonic dog that was about to bite a fallen militia member. Nio twisted his right wrist, swirling his green steel sword to block the second attack from the corrupted creature beside him. He pushed off forcefully, twisted his body, and moved to the side of the creature. As the creature launched its third attack, Nio twisted again—this time much faster—circling behind it and sweeping with his left claw, tearing out a piece of flesh from its neck and severing its carotid artery.

As the corrupted creature screamed and tried to cover its neck, Nio threw his right sword as well. The demonic dog that had been hit in the ribs was just managing to get up when its head and neck were struck again, killing it outright.

Two demonic dogs lunged at him from the side. Nio dodged the first one, then dropped low and rushed forward, kneeling beneath the second dog. He grabbed its throat with one claw and its groin with the other. His sharp fangs pierced through its flesh, twisting as he threw the dog aside. The dog was severely injured and clearly doomed, but its final struggles also left Nio wounded—one of its claws had come within 5 centimeters of severing the artery in his right neck.

His transformation time was limited. Once transformed, Nio would unleash his full power, with the effects of his wolf bloodline operating at maximum. He didn’t bother dealing with such minor injuries; they would stop bleeding quickly. As long as he didn’t lose too much blood, his combat strength would remain at its peak.

He threw the flesh and blood in his hands at another approaching demonized creature. While the filth covered its eyes, Neo delivered a series of kicks—bang, bang, bang, bang! Each kick was full of force, no less intense than a hammer strike. Moreover, after transforming into a werewolf, Neo’s claws were extremely sharp; wherever he stepped, there were either blood holes or torn wounds. The demonized creature kept retreating under Neo’s relentless kicks, left with only the strength to defend. But at that moment, Neo suddenly stepped back. The enraged demonized creature, unwilling to miss this chance to counterattack, pursued closely. Yet as soon as it rushed forward, Neo abruptly turned back. The feint of retreating was merely a trick to dodge. As the saying goes, “Hands are like two doors; it’s all about kicking.” With the demonized creature’s combat skills, it was hard for it to notice the significance of Neo’s unusual movements—it only focused on Neo’s swaying upper body and moving fists!

Breaking through the defense, Neo launched a fierce diagonal lunge with a knee strike. The metal spike on his knee pierced through the demonized creature’s jaw, almost blowing its head apart. After landing, he took a hit from another demonized creature—its right claw struck upward from the right and downward from the left, leaving four massive wounds on his chest and abdomen. With a twist of his body, he accelerated sharply, and the spike on his left elbow rotated over 200 degrees before piercing the side of its head. The demonized creature fell backward as if struck by a sledgehammer.

Bang! Bang! Two more kicks from behind sent Neo flying forward. After landing, he rolled, sprang up, and rushed forward again, rolling once more before picking up his swords. Spinning like a top, his swords unfolded like petals, pushing back the enemies chasing from behind and the two demon dogs attacking from the side. A new round of battle began…

Valentina had long seen Neo fighting alone. Her first impression was that this werewolf was incredibly handsome—both in appearance and in his movements, even when injured. His killing spree resembled a song with a distinct rhythm and passionate melody, inspiring people to cheer loudly or even imitate him. The bravery and passion of a warrior were fully displayed in him—shining swords, splashing blood, a bloody spectacle… Most notably, many nobles wished to possess the elegant cruelty seen in Neo, though this elegance was in the style of a werewolf—wild and majestic!

“This is by no means an ordinary scout!” After a quick glance and an accidental eye contact, Valentina reached a definite conclusion. That lightning-bright gaze, like a magical imprint, remained deeply etched in her memory, making her believe such a gaze was unique!

Having lost two leaders in succession, the dark minions fell into a state of low morale and chaos. Due to the classification of magical potions, the demonized creatures could naturally control demon dogs, but their fighting spirit had been greatly diminished. Seeing the situation worsening, some clever ones encouraged the demon dogs to fight to the death while they tried to escape on their own.

One escaped, two escaped—the herd mentality took hold immediately. The demonized creatures no longer wanted to fight and fled in all directions.

“Form up, pursue!” Valentina wasn’t willing to let these dark minions go so easily. Raising her long sword, she led the cavalry in pursuit, chasing them for several kilometers. In the end, only a dozen or so demonized creatures managed to escape.

The death of those demon dogs was the least surprising; they were nothing but pawns completely devoid of humanity, and dying in battle was their inevitable fate.
Neo had to admit that these pawns were the most troublesome enemies for the migration group. Though not particularly strong, they far outmatched the militia. Like mad dogs, they feared death not at all. Unless fatally wounded, they would grow more frenzied the more injured they became. In this battle, over 60% of the casualties were caused by them, and it was also they who took the lead in breaking through enemy defenses at the cost of their own lives.
“The biggest weakness of these pawns is their low intelligence. So, by manipulating control or enemy identification, could we possibly neutralize the threat posed by these demon dogs?” Neo remained vigilant and decided to study this issue thoroughly when he had time.
By the time Valentina returned, Neo had reverted to his human form. This transformation not only didn’t require lunar energy to activate but also lasted nearly twice as long—almost 10 minutes. Even Neo found such progress astonishing, which only deepened his doubts.
“There’s likely a major secret hidden within my body—this rapid increase in strength, my life force, my skills in absorbing life energy, and even my headaches might all stem from it!” Neo walked around wielding his sword, delivering another strike to those still gasping for breath, while thinking to himself, “Speaking of headaches, ever since I was rescued by a mysterious person in the Hidden Army Valley, I haven’t had any more headaches…”
“Neo, well done!” Ebut, with one arm hanging unnaturally, smiled and gave him a thumbs up.
Neo nodded at Ebut and asked concerningly, “What’s wrong with your arm?”
“It’s probably just dislocated!” Ebut seemed calm, though blood dripped from his fingertips.
“I’ll take a look!” Neo stepped forward quickly to examine Ebut’s injury. It wasn’t just a dislocation—it also included a fractured upper arm and two deep claw wounds. Since the fracture couldn’t be treated immediately, Neo could only deal with the dislocation and bandage the wounds. The wounds were caused by the poisonous claws of those demonized creatures, so he could only bandage them hastily and wait to treat them properly once they returned to camp.
“I’ll go thank the reinforcements,” Ebut said, seeing Valentina and her group returning on horseback. He knew it was his duty to handle such matters.
“Matthewan cavalry, Valentina Srod,” Neo introduced himself briefly to Ebut.
Ebut nodded and went to thank Valentina, while Neo joined the rescue efforts. Everywhere he went, whether it was the Torres militia or the Matthewan cavalry, everyone paid him respects or cast admiring glances at him.
In this battle, Neo alone killed as many as 27 of those dark minions, including one of the two demonized enemies he slew in a single strike. The fierce and brutal way his swords moved, sending blood flying with each swing, terrified even his enemies—truly a deadly warrior.
Yet even so, it couldn’t change the fact that the militia suffered heavy losses: 21 died directly or from severe injuries, 7 were seriously injured, 6 could no longer fight for a while, 22 suffered minor injuries, and there were less than 10 unharmed. Those who survived were filled with shock and despair from having narrowly escaped death.

Click! Click! The mechanisms came into action—once loose parts of the armor retracted under the control of the straps, fitting tightly again. Due to the need for transformation, Neo’s armor was custom-made, featuring more intricate mechanisms than ordinary armor, making it more difficult to maintain. Yet this battle proved that it was all worth it.

“Get to work! Save one brother if you can!” With Neo’s deep voice, the militia members seemed to wake from a nightmare, yet they were at a loss—there were too many casualties, and they didn’t know where to start.

“Press and tie up the wounds to stop the bleeding as much as possible.” The militia couldn’t understand anything too complicated, so Neo explained only the simplest methods.

“You, cut off the heads of these Dark Claws. Dick, take a few people to inform the Migration Team and have them send rescue teams!” Valentina gave brief instructions to Ebut before ordering the cavalry.

Compared to the clumsy and confused militia, these cavalry members were clearly well-trained, and their orders were carried out swiftly.

When the Migration Team received news of the victory, they cheered in relief while also grieving for those who died. In just half an hour, dozens of families had to endure the pain of losing their loved ones forever.

As for the dead, there was nothing to say. Seven severely injured people received treatment on the spot, but two more died. The remaining five, though temporarily out of danger, faced a grim outlook—living conditions and medical care during migration were extremely poor.

It was an hour and a half later when Neo finally got off the makeshift operating table, exhausted. As someone knowledgeable, quick-witted, brave, and careful, with some experience in treating injuries, he had to serve as one of the two surgeons. The other was Valentina—a heroic woman who had received proper first-aid and basic surgical training, even more skilled than Neo.

Another key figure was Nolind, the only priest in the Migration Team. This chubby man, who liked to sneak a drink of honey wine, was only level 2, but he was responsible for disinfection and infection prevention before, during, and after surgeries. At least a quarter of the survival rate of severely injured patients depended on him. The other three factors were the surgeons, the will to survive, and the favor of the gods.

Dive grew stronger with every passing moment. He handled the aftermath of this incident excellently, organizing everything efficiently. To prevent the Dark Claws from desecrating the warriors, he, along with Asiborn and another respected elder in the town, persuaded families one by one to conduct cremations. At a simple memorial ceremony, he represented everyone in Tures to thank the families of the victims and provide support to their relatives. He promised everyone that the names and deeds of these warriors would be engraved on stones, lasting forever alongside Tures as its glory.

At the end of his emotional speech, Dive said, “The dead are gone. They sacrificed their lives so that we could live better. For that reason, we must cherish life, boost our spirits, and live bravely and strongly…”

After a quick wash, Valentina tied her ponytail back and stepped out of the side tent, just in time to see Neo removing his arm and thigh guards. Finally able to breathe easy, her tense nerves relaxed, and exhaustion along with a few injuries began to take their toll, making Neo’s movements somewhat clumsy.

Valentina walked over with her hands behind her back, smiling, and stopped in front of Neo as he continued removing his armor. Only when he looked up at her did she say, “Let me help you check your injuries.”

Neo smiled slightly. “I’m a werewolf.”
“Hmm, really? I thought you were an Iron Man earlier.” Valentina’s slightly deep and hoarse voice had a distinctive charm.
“Hehe!” Neo laughed. “Well, then I’ll have to trouble you.” He had a good impression of this young female knight—proper, brave, approachable, without any of the delicacy typical of noble ladies, instead possessing the simplicity of a common knight.

“Take off your shirt,” Valentina said, her gaze sharp. She had noticed Neo’s unnatural movements earlier and guessed he might have injuries on his back, upper arms, and sides.

Neo wasn’t shy; he simply smiled again, used his left hand to unfasten his leather coat, and then removed his fine linen undergarments, revealing his bare upper body.

Valentina had seen many men’s bodies before, especially during her training at the knight academy, where some male warriors would try to show off their muscular physiques. Still, even so, she was slightly surprised by Neo’s body. First, it was strikingly beautiful—werewolves had more developed muscles than humans, and their muscle distribution and quantity were slightly different. Valentina didn’t know how Neo trained, but he had managed to develop all his muscles in a well-proportioned and symmetrical way. The masculine, perfectly proportioned beauty of his body was truly impressive.

Another thing was his skin. Valentina had assumed someone like Neo would surely have numerous scars, but the opposite was true—there wasn’t a single scar on his body, and his skin was so smooth and flawless that even she felt envious. It also felt wonderful to the touch—soft, smooth…

As Valentina applied ointment and massaged the bruises on Neo’s back and shoulders, the tent curtain was pulled back, and Milien entered, calling out concernfully, “Neo, I…”

The eyes of the two women met.

Milien’s gaze dimmed slightly, and she unconsciously bit her lower lip. Valentina immediately understood—she knew why this werewolf with such free-spirited eyes was willing to risk his life for the Manmoris family…