DLERB -Chapter 118 Physical Salvation! Why Does This Wolf Look Like a Husky?

Every candle flame in the banquet hall had turned a ghostly green.

The scout’s shrill scream still echoed beneath the rafters.

“Outside the city…”

“Outside the city—it’s full of wolves!”

Crash!

Ying Zheng violently shoved aside the table before him, sending wine cups crashing onto the floor.

He did not look at Tuman lying on the ground.

Nor at the eerie green flames.

“Move!”

He spat out a single word.

“To the city walls!”

Meng Tian drew the sword at his waist and followed closely behind.

“Protect His Majesty!”

Two Qin soldiers dragged the still-convulsing Tuman behind them like a dead dog.

Wang Li kicked a table out of his way, his face full of excitement.

Fusu picked up the Qin sword he had just polished clean and silently walked at the rear.

Ying Ziye jumped down from his chair and casually grabbed another roasted lamb leg from a platter.

The group rushed out of the hall.

Behind them, the green flames swayed wildly in the wind for several moments before returning to their normal orange-yellow color.

On the city wall, the cutting wind carried biting sand.

The moment Ying Zheng stepped onto the battlements—

even he halted in place.

Under the moonlight—

outside Shang Commandery stretched an endless ocean.

An ocean made of wolves.

Black masses packed tightly together as far as the eye could see.

Yet they did nothing.

No howling.

No charging.

They merely sat there in perfect order, all facing the city walls.

Thousands upon thousands of eyes glowed in the darkness.

Countless green points of light connected together—

like a starry sky from hell itself.

The Qin soldiers atop the walls trembled as they gripped their weapons.

Their teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Some soldiers’ legs gave out entirely, forcing them to lean against the battlements just to remain standing.

Fear spread like a plague.

“Haha…”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

The dragged-up Tuman caught sight of the scene outside the city.

At first he froze.

Then he burst into hysterical laughter.

Breaking free from the soldiers restraining him, he fell to his knees and spread his arms toward the wolf pack.

“The Wolf God!”

“The Wolf God has awakened!”

His voice was hoarse and sharp.

“You lowly people of the Central Plains!”

“You have angered Eternal Heaven! You will all die!”

“The Wolf God will tear you into pieces!!”

His shouting made the already terrified soldiers grow even paler.

Meng Tian’s face darkened, about to order someone to gag him.

“Father Emperor.”

A lazy childish voice suddenly sounded out.

Ying Ziye leaned against the battlements, with Qinglong supporting him from behind.

He bit into the lamb leg in his hand, then pointed outward with his greasy fingers.

“Look.”

“With this many wolf pelts, the army’s winter coats are finally taken care of.”

He smacked his lips thoughtfully.

“One wolf hide can make several fur collars. The brothers won’t have to freeze this winter.”

The moment those words fell—

the suffocating fear hanging over the walls burst like a punctured balloon.

Several soldiers who had nearly collapsed from terror stared at each other blankly.

The Ninth Young Master…

what was he talking about?

These things…

were materials for making clothes?

Ying Zheng turned and looked at his son.

Not a trace of fear could be found on that little face.

“Ziye, are you afraid?”

Ying Ziye swallowed the meat in his mouth and shook his head.

“What’s there to fear from a bunch of beasts?”

Then he lifted his little face seriously and asked:

“Father Emperor, have you ever eaten wolf-meat hotpot?”

“I heard that stuff’s incredibly nourishing—more intense than mutton.”

At last, Ying Zheng could no longer suppress his smile.

He reached out and rubbed Ying Ziye’s head.

“Good.”

“Tonight, I’ll try it with you.”

The father and son made no effort to lower their voices.

Every soldier nearby heard them clearly.

His Majesty the Emperor and the Ninth Young Master…

wanted to turn these “Wolf Gods” into hotpot ingredients?

The icy fear deep in everyone’s hearts was instantly swept away by a strange mixture of laughter and disbelief.

That’s right.

What was there to fear?

Even the Ninth Young Master wasn’t afraid.

Just then—

the sea of wolves outside the city began to ripple.

Like tides parting to either side, the wolf pack opened a path through the middle.

A figure slowly emerged, riding atop a gigantic black wolf larger than a calf.

It was Modun.

He wore ragged leather armor, his entire body soaked in dark-red bloodstains.

In his hand, he held high the half-charred wolf skull.

A cold, bloody aura swept over the battlefield from hundreds of paces away.

“Ying Zheng!”

Modun’s voice echoed through the night sky as though countless people were speaking at once.

“Ying Ziye!”

“You desecrated the sacred mountain and slaughtered my people!”

“Today, I, Modun, acting under the Wolf God’s command—”

His voice rose higher and higher, overflowing with mad hatred.

“—will use the heads of you father and son, and the blood of everyone in this city, to calm the god’s wrath!”

“Shang Commandery shall drown in blood! Not even grass will remain!”

He raised the wolf skull high, seemingly chanting some ancient curse.

The wolves below the walls began growing restless.

Ying Zheng’s hand moved onto the hilt of the Tai’a Sword.

Meng Tian’s sword had already left its scabbard by half an inch.

Every Qin soldier tensed.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Without warning, a volley of bolts shot out from the city wall.

They arced through the air and slammed into the ground dozens of paces in front of Modun.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

The bolts stuck weakly into the earth, not even touching the giant wolf’s fur.

Modun’s chanting was interrupted.

Startled, he looked toward the city wall.

Ying Ziye lowered the repeating crossbow in his hands with a look of disgust.

“Too far away. Can’t reach him.”

He muttered to himself, then took the giant ox-horn loudspeaker from Qinglong.

Clearing his throat, he shouted with all his strength toward the battlefield below.

The childish voice, amplified dozens of times by the horn, echoed sharply across the entire battlefield.

“Hey!”

“You riding the dog!”

Modun’s face twisted instantly.

Dog?

He was riding the King of the Prairie Wolves—the mount of the Wolf God himself!

But Ying Ziye kept going.

“Your dad’s dancing over here! He dances really well!”

“So are you here for the funeral, or to kowtow to your father?”

“You’re courting death!!”

A beast-like roar exploded from Modun’s throat.

Every ounce of his aura and authority was shattered by those words.

He was completely enraged!

He suddenly raised the wolf skull in his hand.

Crack!

With a crisp snap—

the hard skull was crushed into fragments by his bare hand.

The wind stopped.

The moon vanished behind thick black clouds.

The entire sky darkened in an instant.

An indescribable pressure descended from above.

The torches atop the city wall dimmed until they were no brighter than tiny sparks.

Everyone felt a crushing weight in their chests, barely able to breathe.

Modun lifted his head, his face twisted in savage laughter.

“Despair!”

Instinctively, everyone looked upward.

Within the dense storm clouds—

the outline of a claw slowly emerged.

It was an enormous wolf’s claw formed entirely from black clouds.

Tearing apart the clouds themselves, it descended with a world-destroying force—

slamming toward the tiny walls of Shang Commandery!