I can evolve everything

Valen even forgot to sheath his sword.

He stood beside the gnoll corpse that Raine had smashed to pieces using as a throwing weapon, his boots splattered with black blood and mangled entrails.

As the vice-captain of the Griffin Squadron of the Northern Knights, he had witnessed many ways of killing.

He had seen barbarian soldiers cleave enemies in two with battle axes, seen thieves kill enemies silently with poison, and seen Karen blast monsters to pieces with a greatsword.

But he had never seen anything like it before...

No, he may have only seen this fighting style on Karen.

"Pure violence."

Valen murmured softly, his gaze shifting from the corpse on the ground to Renn.

"call……"

Renn exhaled a puff of white breath, which quickly dissipated in the cold wind.

He sensed Valen's gaze, but he did not show any triumphant expression; he simply calmly sheathed his sword.

"That throw..." Valen finally walked over, looking Renn up and down. "How did you do that?"

"Maybe it's because I did a lot of strength training in the past. My family's breathing techniques are good at that." Renn casually made up a reason, although it wasn't entirely a lie.

Valen's lips twitched.

The idea that doing a lot of strength training will allow you to throw one gnoll thirty meters away and kill another is clearly a childish joke.

The latter is more convincing, since each knight family has its own emphasis on different breathing techniques, and the breathing technique that Rein practices should be more focused on power.

But to unleash such terrifying power after only a short time of learning is rather unbelievable.

"Looks like I should focus more on strength training too," Valen said with a wry smile, then added seriously, "Anyway, well done."

Renn nodded noncommittally.

Just then, Karen slowly walked down the snow slope on the other side.

The old knight glanced at the mess on the ground, then at the unharmed Renn, his face showing an expression that said he had known this would be the outcome all along.

"It seems I don't need to take action."

Karen's gaze swept over Valen. "How's it going, Valen? How's my student?"

"Teacher, please don't tease me." Valen helplessly spread his hands and gave a wry smile: "Where did you find this kind of apprentice knight? For a moment just now, I thought I saw a young version of yourself."

"He knows the tricks of the trade better than I did when I was young," Karen remarked, then looked at Ryan. "How does it feel?"

"My bones are a little sore, but it's nothing serious," Renn answered truthfully. Although the [Skeletal] breathing technique protected him from that burst of energy, the strain on his muscles was still considerable.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Clean up the battlefield!"

Valen didn't dwell on the topic. He turned and loudly ordered the soldiers, who were recovering from their shock:

"Hurry up! The smell of blood might cause even bigger trouble! Take everything usable!"

What happened next made Renn raise an eyebrow slightly.

This group of fully armed Northern regulars skillfully pulled out skinning knives and saws and began to dispose of the gnoll corpses.

A soldier stepped on the gnoll's head, deftly cut off its ear, and then began to skin it.

"Surprised?"

Valen noticed Ryan's expression and slowly approached him to start a conversation.

"I thought regular troops were only responsible for killing." Renn looked at the busy soldiers. "This kind of scavenging behavior is usually something adventurers do."

"This is the North, Raine."

Valen sighed and pointed to the fortress in the distance. "Although the Northern Fortress has the Kingdom's aid, the journey is long, and many supplies have been almost completely used up by the time they reach here. We must be self-sufficient."

He kicked the gnoll corpse on the ground.

"The fur of these Icefield Gnolls may smell a bit bad, but it's still a good source of monster materials. And their teeth, when ground into powder, are low-grade alchemy materials."

"Nothing is trash here."

Renn nodded thoughtfully.

"Sir! There's something going on here!"

A young soldier who was examining the body suddenly raised his hand, his voice grave.

Valen immediately went over, and Ryan and Karen followed.

Those were the corpses of the first gnolls to charge at them.

The young soldier pointed to the gnolls' shrunken bellies: "Look, their stomachs are completely empty. I just cut one open, and its stomach was full of tree bark, frozen soil, and even bone fragments of its own kind. These beasts have been starving for at least three days."

"Starved for three days?" Valen frowned. "That doesn't make sense. There are plenty of wild deer near the Deadwood Forest; how could they be so hungry?"

"Not only that."

The veteran turned the gnoll's corpse over and pointed to an old, scabbed wound on its back.

It was a horrific laceration, with flesh torn open, as if it had been clawed by some enormous claw.

Although the wound has healed, it is still clear how terrifying the attack was.

"This wound is fresh, probably from about a week ago," the soldier analyzed. "And I noticed that about half of the gnolls here have similar wounds. They look like they fled here."

"escape?"

This word made everyone present's heart skip a beat.

Gnolls are predators of the wasteland.

What kind of creature could drive more than thirty gnolls to flee to the vicinity of a human fortress?

"Sir, I found a tuft of hair in this wound."

The veteran carefully used tweezers to pluck a strand of silver-gray hair from the gap in the scabbed wound.

The strand of hair was long and had a cold, hard sheen.

Valen leaned closer to take a look, his brow furrowed.

"It looks like dire wolf fur," Varen said hesitantly. "But an ordinary dire wolf couldn't possibly drive a gnoll to this point. Normally, dire wolves are one of the gnolls' prey. This doesn't make sense."

"unless……"

When Ryan heard the word "wolf," his eyes narrowed.

He recalled the information Karen had mentioned on the road, as well as the key material he needed to evolve the sphere—the [War Wolf King's Fang].

"Can I take a look?"

Renn quickly stepped forward.

Warren hesitated for a moment, then gestured for the veteran to hand the tweezers to Ryan.

Raine took the tuft of hair, stared at it, and was slightly stunned.

Immediately afterwards, a line of information appeared before Renn's eyes.

The Dire Wolf King's Fur

[Characteristics: Flexible yet strong, making it an ideal choice for armor making.]

This is what he's looking for: the Warg King.

Ryan's heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained unchanged.

He merely squinted slightly, examining the fur before him with great interest.

"The hair is very stiff."

Renn rubbed it between his fingers. "It certainly doesn't resemble an ordinary wild beast."

He handed the tweezers back to Warren in a natural manner, without showing any unnecessary emotion.

"I've never seen this texture before either." Renn shook his head. "Looks like we'll have to take it back to the fortress for analysis."

Warren took the hair with some disappointment and carefully put it into a small glass bottle.

"That's certainly strange." Valen looked at the silver fur in the bottle. "If a large canine monster that can prey on gnolls really has appeared around here... then we're in big trouble."

He did not doubt Ryan.

After all, in the eyes of a normal person, how could a trainee knight who has only been in the North for half a month possibly recognize the fur of such a rare monster?

"Alright, stop staring blankly!"

Valen tucked the glass bottle into his pocket, stood up, clapped his hands, and said, "Everyone, line up! Hang the bodies on the back of the horses, we're heading back to the fortress! We have to get back before dark."

The soldiers sprang into action.

Ryan mounted his horse. He tightened his grip on the reins slightly.

The wind and snow seemed to be getting heavier.

He glanced back at the vast, desolate wilderness to the north.

Deep in that direction, a wolf king roams somewhere in the wasteland.

"What's wrong?" Ella rode over on her horse, following his gaze. "Is there something over there?"

"It's nothing."

Renn withdrew his gaze, pulled on the reins, and the rye beneath him snorted and caught up with the group.

"I just think this place is more interesting than I imagined."

Under the cover of the wind and snow, the group sped toward the Black Fortress.