Watching as the Howling Blades once again formed in the mouths of those Nether Wolves, James Grant snapped out of his daze, picked up Monica Morton, and began leaping upward around the tree trunk, step by step.

With the power of the Moon Goddess, James Grant had undergone tremendous changes in both movement speed and explosive strength.

As the Howling Blades sliced through the air and shot upward, James Grant also sprang up dozens of meters, while some of the earlier Howling Blades barely grazed past the soles of James Grant’s feet.

This distance was already the limit of the Howling Blades’ attack range.

Seeing the pack of wolves staring helplessly from below the tree, James Grant finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Chapter 12: Tremendous Strength

However, the good times didn’t last long, and the Nether Wolf pack once again showed James Grant what intelligence truly meant.

There were more than twenty Nether Wolves gathered at the base of the tree, and their numbers continued to grow. Now, seeing that James Grant and Monica Morton had escaped the effective range of the Howling Blades, the Nether Wolves let out a collective howl, and then over a dozen Howling Blades were launched in an orderly fashion at the base of the tree.

Perched on a branch jutting out above, James Grant felt his body tremble as if the tree had been struck violently.

James Grant knew the force of such an impact— even if a fully loaded semi-truck crashed into the tree, the resulting tremor probably wouldn’t be much worse.

Looking down, James Grant felt a chill run through his heart.

Wood chips were flying at the base of the tree, and more than twenty Nether Wolves were lined up, each unleashing Howling Blades with pinpoint accuracy at the same spot. In just a short moment, the massive tree, four meters in diameter, had a huge gash carved into it by magic.

Are these really wolves?

James Grant couldn’t help but marvel at his own luck. He had chosen this tree to hide in a moment of desperation, but its massive base had now bought him a chance to escape.

Judging by the speed and frequency of the Nether Wolves’ attacks, if they had just fifteen minutes, this tree would be felled. By then, James Grant and the dark elf would be exposed to the wolves’ attack range, and the consequences would be predictably tragic.

At this moment, King Kong was fighting desperately, surrounded by countless Nether Wolves.

Although the Howling Blades could no longer harm King Kong, the claws of the Nether Wolves, who threw themselves at him regardless of their own lives, still caused him some trouble.

The saying “many ants can kill an elephant” couldn’t be more apt for King Kong’s current predicament.

King Kong wanted to rescue his master, but was held back by the wolves, and the furious giant gorilla could only vent his anger with massive palms and iron fists. One after another, the bodies of Nether Wolves—whole or in pieces—were flung away, slowly piling up into a mountain of corpses around King Kong.

With just one glance, James Grant gave up on the idea of recalling King Kong. The gorilla could barely take care of himself—how could he have any strength left to save James Grant? Most importantly, James Grant had no idea how to command his own magical pet... which was an incredibly awkward situation.

What could he do now? James Grant had never encountered anything like this before and was momentarily at a loss. Waiting in the tree would only delay the approach of death.

Although Monica Morton looked a bit pale—probably still frightened by the Nether Wolf pack—her strong survival instinct made her trembling hands pull out the short bow she always wore at her waist.

James Grant was about to remind the girl that she had no arrows, when he saw her pinch the bowstring with her fingers. James Grant sensed a faint energy, and then a sharp wooden arrow appeared on the string.

Fortunately, after seeing so many strange things today, James Grant wasn’t startled by the sudden appearance of an arrow.

Although the short bow was small, it required considerable strength to draw.

The girl struggled to pull it halfway, and with a “whoosh,” the arrow, carrying her hope, shot downward.

With just one look, James Grant knew it wouldn’t work.

The wind in the forest was too strong, and the distance too great. Although elves were famous throughout the Tans continent for their mastery of bows and daggers, and every elf could wield these weapons with incredible skill, as a priestess candidate, she was weaker than other elves, and her aim was much worse.

The arrow wobbled halfway through its flight and, when it landed, didn’t even manage to knock off a single wolf hair.

Monica Morton’s little face turned a bit red.

“Let me try!” Young Master Grant rolled up his sleeves and snatched the short bow from Monica Morton’s hands. The girl, understanding his intent, used wood magic to create another arrow and handed it to James Grant.

Placing the arrow on the string, James Grant took a deep breath and quickly drew the bow.

Young Master Grant used all his strength, the muscles on his bare arms bulging like hard river stones.

With a crisp “snap,” James Grant blinked in astonishment, staring dumbfounded at the short bow broken in two in his hands, feeling a bit deflated.

Monica Morton stood there with her mouth agape, staring blankly at James Grant.