My monster cards can evolve infinitely.

Chapter 100 The Challenge of Expedition Team No. 33

Silvers' trembling fingers could barely hold the bottle of icy blue potion. He uncorked it, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

The cold medicine slid down his throat, and Silvers' face quickly changed from pale to an unnatural flush. Veins bulged on his forehead, and the arrogance that once filled his deep purple eyes vanished, leaving only a numb, deathly look.

The drug was burning him to death.

The meadow ahead was a scene of utter devastation, like something out of hell.

Scattered among them were countless corpses of Primal Demons and Fearful Demons frozen in frost, broken skeletons scattered about, black demon blood mixed with pale bone fragments, forming a strange abstract painting under the moonlight.

The ground was plowed with furrows of varying depths by the battle, and several small fireballs, still burning, ignited the dry grass, their flames flickering in the night.

Winter Wolf Frost Fang lay beside its master, its pure white fur now stained with blood, dirt, and scorch marks.

It was breathing heavily, its icy blue eyes were half-closed, and its huge body was covered with countless wounds—claw marks, stab wounds, burns.

It should be noted that the fur of an ordinary winter wolf naturally possesses defensive capabilities equivalent to chainmail, with a protection level of 3.

But Frostfang is no ordinary winter wolf. It is an elite individual painstakingly bred by the Northern Warlock family, with a fur defense level of up to level 5, comparable to fine scale armor or lamellar armor.

Even so, Frostfang looked utterly disheveled at this moment.

There was a deep laceration on the left foreleg that exposed the bone, and a palm-sized ulcer on the right hind leg caused by acidic liquid corrosion. A large patch of the silvery-white fur was burned off.

But it still struggled to its feet and used its massive body to shield Silvers behind it.

Not far ahead, lay the corpse of a Thorn Demon.

The level 2 challenge demon elite died a gruesome death—its neck was almost bitten off, and huge canine teeth marks were deeply embedded in its flesh and bone.

His chest and abdomen were covered with marks from being frozen and shattered by frost, and most of the thorny bone plates on his back were broken.

This is the result of Frostfang's desperate struggle.

However, the crisis was not over.

On either side of the battlefield, where skull fragments were scattered, two Thorn Demons, like the most experienced hunters, were approaching them step by step.

These elite demons clearly possessed intelligence far exceeding that of lower-ranking demons. Instead of rushing to attack, they slowly tightened their encirclement, their bone blades rubbing against each other with a teeth-grinding "crunch," their dark red eyes locked onto the exhausted winter wolf and the shaky necromancer.

With a crisp "crack," at the edge of the battlefield, the last remaining skeleton warrior finally gave out.

The skeleton of the sword and shield skeleton was riddled with cracks, the shield on the left arm was shattered, and the longsword on the right arm was broken.

Three lesser demons swarmed around it, attacking relentlessly, raining down iron forks and claws. The skeleton finally crumbled to the ground, and the eerie blue flames of its soul flickered a few times before extinguishing.

Silves took a deep breath, enduring the trembling and soul-tearing discomfort caused by the potion, and gripped the bonewood staff tightly with both hands.

The Soul Gem at the top of the staff had dimmed; his magic had long been exhausted in the continuous summoning.

He bit the tip of his tongue, using the pain to stimulate his fading consciousness, and began chanting a summoning incantation.

This spellcasting was exceptionally difficult.

The syllables broke apart, the magic flowed sluggishly, and the runes on the staff flickered on and off.

Silves could feel his mental energy was like a leaky bucket; no matter how hard he tried to gather it, he could only barely summon a trace of magic.

"In the name of the dead..." His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping.

The magic circle struggled to take shape on the ground, its light as faint as a candle flickering in the wind.

A flash of white light appeared, and the summoning result was despairing: a skeleton warrior with two loose skeletons and flickering soul flames stood up shakily.

One body couldn't even conjure a weapon, while the other held a bone knife as thin as a cicada's wing, as if it would shatter at the slightest touch.

Silvers had lost count of how many times he had cast [Matthew's Summoning of Skeleton Warriors].

The continuous high-intensity spellcasting had drained his body and spirit, and the weakness brought on by the depletion of magic power surged like a tide.

His vision went black, his ears were ringing, and the whole world seemed to be spinning.

But he still held on to his last breath and pointed his staff at the approaching Thorn Demon on the left.

At that very moment, the Thorn Demon on the right moved!

Without any prelude, its six-foot-tall body suddenly lunged forward, so fast that it left only a dark red afterimage.

The bone blade drew a cold arc in the moonlight, aiming straight for Silves's back—if this strike hit, the black-robed mage would die instantly.

"roar!!!"

Frost Fang let out a deafening roar.

The winter wolf unleashed its last bit of strength from its massive body, suddenly shifting sideways and using its flank to forcefully block its master from the bone blade.

puff!

The bone blade pierced Frostfang's side, penetrating half a foot. Thorn Demon clearly hadn't expected Winter Wolf to use his body as a shield, and his movements faltered slightly.

Frostfang roared in pain, its icy blue eyes instantly turning bloodshot. But instead of retreating, it turned and slammed its massive head into the Thorn Demon!

boom!

The Thorn Demon staggered backward from the impact, its bone blade being pulled from Frostfang's body, bringing with it a spray of blood and bits of flesh.

Despite the excruciating pain, the winter wolf used its tail, like a steel whip, to lift the semi-conscious Silvers and throw its master onto its back.

This series of actions aggravated its wounds all over its body, and blood gushed from multiple wounds, quickly staining its silvery-white fur red.

"Go!" Silvers roared with his last shred of consciousness.

Frost Fang pushed off the ground with its four claws, unleashing the last of its life force, and sprinted forward!

The two newly summoned skeleton warriors were easily torn apart by the two Thorn Demons before they could even react.

The demon elite roared angrily, leading dozens of lower-level demons that had regrouped behind them, chasing after the fleeing man and wolf like a black tide.

100 meters in the air.

The bird poet spreads its gray wings and glides gracefully in the night breeze.

Her long, emerald-green hair danced in the air currents, and her amber-colored vertical pupils, like the most sophisticated reconnaissance instruments, looked down at the vast and dangerous gray forest below.

Then, she saw that scene.

In the vast forest, a giant silver wolf, as large as a bison on the Pampas, was carrying an unconscious man in black robes as it raced through the forest.

The giant wolf's pure white fur was now stained with blood, and a shocking, penetrating wound ran across its left abdomen, dripping blood as it ran. Its steps were unsteady, and its speed had clearly decreased, but it still desperately continued to move forward.

Behind the giant wolf, a black tide was surging.

That was an army of demons.

Two dark red thorn demons charged at the forefront, wielding bone blades and cutting down trees that blocked their path.

Behind them, hordes of Primal Demons, Fearful Demons, and Lesser Demons spread like a plague, leaving withered vegetation and traces of sulfur on the earth wherever they went.

The quantity is at least eighty.

The bird poet adjusted its flight direction, its emerald wings slicing through the night sky as it sped off towards the southeast.

"Get ready!"

Xiu Qi's voice wasn't loud, but it pierced the silence of the forest like an icicle.

He stood in the center of the pass, his gray robe motionless in the night wind, his right hand resting on the hilt of the sword "Bavarian Moonlight".

A warm pulse emanated from the rare meditation stone on his chest, and his keen perception, enhanced by his 9 points of intelligence, allowed him to detect the vibrations coming from afar in advance.

That was no ordinary earthquake.

It is the tremor of a thousand horses galloping, the roar of demons gathering into a wave, the prelude to death approaching.

"The monster army is coming soon!" Xiu Qi turned his head and glanced at his squad.

Ado was already dressed.

The ten-foot-tall ogre was like a mobile steel fortress, its robes and chainmail gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

A massive spiked club rested on his shoulder, each barb gleaming coldly. A giant oak shield stood beside him, its central metal dome staring into the darkness like a single eye.

The ogre's clear, yellow eyes held no fear, only the calm of a warrior preparing for battle. A low growl escaped its throat, a sign of readiness.

The goblin warrior Max stood beside Hodor.

After the card is promoted to two-star rare quality, Max's size increases to eight feet three inches (about 2.5 meters). Although he is still shorter than Hodor, he is already a giant in the eyes of ordinary people.

It was clad in heavy cloaks and chainmail, with metal plates covering its vital areas. The pair of battle horns growing from its skull were curved and menacing, gleaming darkly in the moonlight.

What is most striking is its weapon—no longer an ordinary steel longsword, but a two-handed greatsword.

The sword was five feet long and a hand's width, with faint battle runes flowing along its edge. With Max's current physique and 12 points of strength, wielding this greatsword with one hand was just right.

Max's crimson eyes scanned the terrain of the pass, his mind racing.

The talent [Warband Leader] has begun to take effect, with an invisible aura enveloping the entire squad, increasing everyone's teamwork and command execution efficiency by 10%.

Link climbed up an ancient tree behind the pass.

The young hunter chose an excellent shooting position—a natural platform in the middle of the tree canopy, offering a wide view overlooking the entire entrance to the pass, while being concealed by dense foliage.

He checked the last silver-plated arrow and carefully placed it back in the most convenient spot in the quiver. Then he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

My hands are shaking a little.

"This is normal," Link told himself. It would be abnormal not to be nervous facing the approaching demon army.

But tension must not affect shooting, judgment, or...

He remembered his grandfather's words: "The most important thing for a hunter is not archery skills, but mindset. No matter how ferocious the prey, as long as you are calmer than it, you will win."

Link slowly exhaled, his fingers touching the bowstring, no longer trembling.

Xiuqi began casting the spell.

He raised his right hand, spread his five fingers, and activated it with his mind.

A cold, metallic luster flowed from his palm like water, quickly covering his entire body.

It wasn't physical armor, but a protective field condensed from arcane energy, forming a faint silver halo on the skin's surface.

Level 4 [Blade Protection].

Then, Shuki turned to Ado, Max, and Link, and cast the same spell on them in turn.

A silver halo lit up on the three team members in turn.

Ado's already thick cloak and chainmail now had an additional layer of flowing metallic luster, further enhancing its defensive capabilities.

The tip of Max's battle horn gleamed coldly, and the runes on the edge of his two-handed greatsword seemed to shine even brighter.

Link felt a strange energy surging across his body, and he gripped the longbow tightly in his hand.

"Princess," Xiuqi called softly.

A flash of silver light, and Princess Alice appeared beside him.

After being promoted to the second star, the princess reached a height of 1.4 meters, with clearly defined muscle lines under her silver-gray skin.

On the surface of the menacing hammer in her hand, dark red flames danced like living things between the spikes. The small tuft of silver hair on her head shone like burning ice flames in the moonlight.

"Locate in ambush on the flanks," Xiuqi ordered. "Prioritize assassinating spellcasters, and be mindful of your own safety."

The princess nodded, and her silver-gray figure disappeared like a ghost into the shadows on the right side of the pass.

Her extreme agility of 12 and the skill [Stealth +8] make her almost undetectable in the dark.

Xiuqi took one last look at the terrain.

This is a naturally formed pass—with steep rock walls on both sides, hundreds of feet high, almost vertical.

There is only one passage, about fifteen feet wide, running through the mountain as if it had been cleaved by a giant axe.

Their tactics are simple, and must be simple:

Ado and Max stood at the forefront, blocking the entrance to the pass.

Link provides remote support from a high vantage point in the rear.

Xiuqi himself took charge in the center, intercepting all those who slipped through the net.

The princess flanked the enemy, assassinating key targets.

We cannot allow the demons to flank us, nor can we allow them to encircle us. We must control the battle from the front – this is our only chance of victory when we are outnumbered.

"They're here," Xiuqi said in a low voice.

As the sound of the vibrations grew closer, birds in the woods ahead began to take flight into the sky.

Filthy and ugly figures emerged from the shadows of the woods.