The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6633

Battle exploded in every direction.

The five teams fought for their lives on separate fronts. Spiritual light of different colors crossed over the wasteland until the whole place looked covered by a chaotic curtain.

Ironblood Mercenary Company pushed the hardest.

They clashed head-on with more than a dozen demon hounds. Harlan Ironhall swung his giant ax until it became a wheel of golden light, cutting through the beasts twice over. Demon blood splashed onto the black soil and rose in steaming mist.

Cloudflight Pavilion fought with far more flexibility.

They used the uneven terrain and the scattered rock piles to keep moving, striking and shifting, never allowing the demon hounds to trap them. Their casualties stayed low.

Emberhawk of the Blazefire Sect led her people with clean, direct attacks. Crimson fire arts tore several burning corridors through the beast pack.

The wandering cultivators had it worst.

They lacked the tight coordination of the established groups. Their spiritual power surged unevenly, with gaps in their rhythm. The first charge from a dozen demon hounds cost them two people.

One had been covering the rear when a demon hound bit into his shoulder from the side and dragged him into a rock pile.

Another had his left arm torn open by claws. He lost too much blood before medicine could reach him.

Within half an hour, the first wave of guards had been killed.

The five teams rested briefly, then advanced again.

After another six miles, they met the second wave.

This one was much larger.

It no longer consisted only of Golden Immortal Level Five demon hounds. At least ten Golden Immortal Level Six elite hounds appeared among them.

Those elites were larger than ordinary demon hounds. Their bone spikes were dark gold instead of black. Their attacks came from trickier angles, their speed was higher, and their bite force had doubled.

The fighting on the wasteland turned brutal at once.

Ironblood Mercenary Company's shield formation held through the first two charges, then cracked on the third. Demon hounds forced their way through the gap and bit through the lower legs of two frontliners. The injured men had to be dragged back for emergency treatment.

Cloudflight Pavilion also paid a price.

A late-stage Golden Immortal Level Five veteran was surrounded by three elite hounds. His teammates did not reach him in time. His folding fan snapped in two, and he fell under the claws of the beasts.

Graywolf Gang and Blazefire Sect both suffered losses, but their core experts used their personal strength to stabilize the lines.

The wandering cultivator team was in even worse shape.

They kept losing people. In the end, only seven or eight were still struggling to fight, and two of them were already wounded.

Still, these groups had built their names in Bermu City for a reason.

With their numbers and long years of hunting experience, they eventually killed the entire second wave.

At last, all five teams reached the entrance of the demon hound king's den.

They stood around the edge and looked at one another.

The hole was more than a hundred feet wide and seemed bottomless. Thick demon aura poured out of the black opening, so dense that it almost refused to disperse.

From deep below came low growls full of authority and pressure. Several weaker team members standing near the edge felt their legs soften.

Golden Immortal Level Seven.

The demon hound king.

It was down there.

And it already knew the intruders had reached its door.

No one wanted to be the first to jump in.

The first one down would be the first to face the demon hound king's frontal attack.

That meant the greatest danger.

Of course, it also meant the highest chance of landing the final blow and taking the beast core.

Among beast hunters, there was an unspoken rule.

The one who made the kill took the core.

"What? No one dares go in?"

Harlan rested his battle-ax on his shoulder and swept a cold grin over the others. "Then why did you come all this way? To stand at the entrance and enjoy the demon wind?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he jumped.

His huge body dropped into the darkness like a falling meteor.

A dull crash came from deep underground a moment later. Right after that, metal struck bone with a sharp clang.

Byron Cloudmere closed his folding fan and gave his team a signal.

"Go."

He led them into the pit.

The tunnel dropped extremely deep.

They fell more than two thousand feet before reaching the bottom.

The underground space was far larger than the entrance suggested. It was a natural cavern that had been turned into a den. The roof hung dozens of yards overhead, and the open space was about the size of a training field.

The uneven stone walls were covered with demon beast slime and layers of dried blood left over countless years. Broken bones and shattered weapon fragments littered the ground.

The five teams had suffered badly.

Covered in wounds, they leaned against the few cleaner sections of wall and gasped for air.

Blood and severed limbs lay everywhere.

The smell of blood was so thick that it almost condensed into mist.

Half the torches and spirit lamps had been extinguished. The remaining half flickered weakly, casting unstable light through the cavern.

The demon hound king stood at the center.

Blood covered its body. Many wounds were deep enough to expose bone. Even so, its massive frame still radiated brutal power.

Pieces of torn human robes hung from its bone spikes, and shreds of cloth from some unlucky cultivator still dangled from its mouth.

Its peak Golden Immortal Level Seven aura had weakened since the start of the battle, but it was still strong enough to chill every survivor.

The five leaders were in even worse condition.

A wound more than a foot long ran across Harlan Ironhall's left arm. Poison from the demon hound king's bone spike had darkened the edges, and the bleeding still had not fully stopped.

Byron Cloudmere's folding fan had snapped in two. Blood marked the corner of his mouth, and several holes had been torn through his white robe by claws.

Blackwolf's chest armor had been ripped open, revealing black-purple flesh beneath.

Emberhawk's red hair had come loose, and the flames around her had shrunk to a faint red glow. Her aura was less than half its usual strength.

Silas Crane, leader of the wandering cultivators, was the worst of all.

One of his legs had been bitten through at the shin. He lay on the ground barely breathing, his consciousness already fading.