On another battlefield in the wasteland, the head of the Fourth Clan—known as “Fourth”—had sent his trusted aide to reinforce Third.

But the beastkin kingdom’s army suddenly joined the battle. They didn’t ally with the Dark King’s forces; instead, they made straight for the Third Clan’s army.

The trusted aide couldn’t let the ally his clan head had ordered him to protect get caught between two enemy armies. He had no choice but to change the plan on the spot and lead his troops against the beastkin legion himself.

The two sides officially clashed before the battle on the Dark King’s front had been decided.

Like fiends clawing their way out of hell, the beasts emerged from the mist one after another. They formed ranks packed tight and marched forward with steady, unwavering steps.

Behind them stretched an endless cloud of dust. Beneath their feet lay solid ground. Before them stood three thousand enemy infantry, drawn up in a defensive formation…

They were like a mountain on the move, a towering wall in motion—or, more than anything, a blazing inferno sweeping across the plains!

With unstoppable force, they charged ahead—seeming slow, yet moving with startling speed.

The fifty paces vanished in the blink of an eye.

The aide and the soldiers under his command barely had time to see the enemy break into their ranks and trample their seemingly unbreakable defensive formation into ruin.

The beastkin army chose to break through at a relatively weak point in the enemy formation.

At thirty paces, only two barricades stood close together.

White Bear led the charge, making straight for those two barricades from the very start.

The enemy’s hurried arrows bounced off the holy power protecting his body the moment they came near.

After a clatter of noise, the bent arrowheads fell into the dust.

White Bear roared. The sound spread outward with his furious bellow, sending wave after wave of vibrations rippling in every direction.

Then he thrust both hands forward, gripping the two barricades in his palms.

He put all his strength into both arms and, with another furious roar, lifted the two hulking barricades—each weighing more than fifty kilograms—and hurled them into the enemy ranks like sandbags.

Boom!

He smashed a gap straight through the formation. The two barricades crashed down like meteorites, carving two bloody paths through the ranks.

Men were thrown every which way along their path. Severed limbs littered the ground, and screams rang out in terrible agony.

At once, the beasts behind White Bear let out a cheer that shook the heavens.

They shouted their short, simple battle cry and rushed toward the targets in front of them.

To reduce their losses, the Fourth Clan’s army had adjusted its formation more than once.

They believed the vanguard’s shield wall, barricades, and armored soldiers would be enough to stop the enemy’s charge.

But the beastkin were far stronger than they’d expected. Their leader in particular was frighteningly powerful.

The barricades, sturdy as rocks, became shooting stars. The supposedly unbreakable shield wall was knocked down, crushed, and trampled flat.

Against claws striking at high speed, the armored soldiers could do little more than fly through the air and howl in helpless agony.

Their resistance was feeble and futile. They couldn’t land a hit, while the enemy’s claws always found their mark.

Even if the Fourth Clan’s soldiers dodged the werewolves’ thrusts, they couldn’t escape the charging and trampling bull beastkin.

The shallow barricade line was breached in an instant. Split into small squads, the clan soldiers were utterly unable to withstand such force.

They fought to the death and refused to retreat, but flesh and blood could never hold back that “flood.”

With a ferocious momentum that seemed set on conquering everything, the beastkin plunged into the enemy ranks, broke through them, and swept them aside!

At the very front, White Bear was the army’s strongest weapon.

He wielded no weapon at all. With nothing but his bare fists, he rampaged at the head of the formation, slaughtering his way forward.

Any soldier who stood in his way died. Any general who stood in his way died. Everywhere he passed, blood had already gathered into scarlet streams.

“Hold the line! Hold the line!”

The trusted aide heard his own voice breaking into a sob.

He couldn’t help crying. White Bear’s fists were now less than twenty zhang from his great banner.

There was no one left beside him. He’d already sent every soldier he could muster to the front.

Only he could hear his own orders, but the soldiers up ahead really were trying to adjust their formation.

The bloodkin soldiers trying to regroup were doomed to fail.

Because wherever the raging “fire” burned, the “wind” was sure to rise.

As White Bear’s trusted subordinate, the wolf beastkin and his troops weren’t the most dazzling force in this great battle, nor did they kill the most enemies. But the role they played was the most crucial.

On the flank, he kept a full eight thousand of the clan army’s elite troops tied down.

Considering the difference in numbers between the two armies, he and his three thousand warriors had more than fulfilled their mission.

But that wasn’t what mattered most. The key was that he threw those eight thousand elite clan soldiers into disarray, creating an opening for the king and his troops to charge.

Beyond that, he led his army back and forth across the field, kicking up clouds of dust.

He used the dust to cover the king’s approach, keeping the clan army from concentrating its forces to intercept him.

In the dust, he adjusted his troops and marked out the direction of His Majesty’s charge.

Every one of these tasks was important.

It was thanks to all that groundwork that White Bear could charge into the formation and display such overwhelming power.

Without the wolf beastkin, the warriors following White Bear might not have been able to break through the clan soldiers’ ranks at all.

Even if they had managed it, they could never have made the enemy’s formation collapse so completely.

Now, the wolf beastkin was back.

Following the gap the king had forced open, he led more than two thousand beastkin warriors deep into the enemy ranks, flowing through like quicksilver. Like a gale, they swept away every stubborn foe trying to regroup.

“I’m the commander of the flank force! I’m still here, and our banner still stands! Rally to me! Form—”

A bloodkin officer picked up the tattered battle flag from the ground.

He waved it and shouted with all his strength, trying to catch the soldiers’ attention and gather them beneath the banner.

For a moment, it worked. Soldiers frozen in confusion or fleeing in disarray stopped and turned to look. Then a long arrow put an end to it all.

His voice cut off abruptly.

The tattered flag slumped to the ground.

A savage beast swept past like the wind.

The wolf beastkin had loosed his arrow from a simple bow. As he turned his gaze away, his face remained blank, without joy or sorrow, even after killing the enemy officer.

He lowered his bow and calmly scanned the area, searching for the next enemy trying to rally the scattered troops.

Enemies who stood and fought to the death deserved respect. If he had the chance, he would gladly fight beside warriors like that.

But right now, they were enemies. If he didn’t kill them, more blood would be spilled—and his own army wouldn’t be the only one to pay the price.

So even if he was going to pity the enemy, he would have to wait until they were utterly broken.

For now, his job was to secure the gains they’d made, then press the pursuit and break the enemy as quickly as possible.

“I’m the deputy commander of the flank force. I—”

Another tattered flag rose. Another fearless warrior stepped forward. The wolf beastkin raised his bow once more and took aim at the next target.

“The mobile force is responsible for harassing the enemy, throwing their formation into disarray, covering the main force, and creating openings for attack.

“Once the main force breaks through, the mobile force follows up, secures the gains, and presses the advantage…”

From above, anyone watching could see clearly that White Bear and his troops weren’t moving in a straight line, but along a curve.

Starting from the point where he lifted the barricades and broke into the formation, their path described a half-arc, cutting through the entire flank and charging toward the clan army’s center.

If the beastkin army kept advancing, it would charge all the way to the front lines where the two armies were fighting. Only then would it stop.

The main force’s charge was indeed unstoppable. But if the enemy was stubborn enough, they might still manage to regroup, just as the clan soldiers were trying to do now.

That was when the mobile force, which hadn’t seemed so impressive before, truly showed its worth.

Thanks to the wolf beastkin’s brilliant command, the beastkin forces—whose strength lay in their speed—could now fight at a full 120 percent of their usual effectiveness.

He could always find the weakest point in the enemy line, or the spot in the greatest disarray, and strike it directly.

When he encountered a few stubborn holdouts, he didn’t force a head-on clash.

Instead, the wolf beastkin would change direction and lead his troops past the enemy like the wind. As they swept by, his warriors would rip into their flanks with their claws.

Or he would use a move called “Rolling Back the Bead Curtain,” driving fleeing soldiers straight into the enemy’s stubborn ranks.