Elven cultivators

Ruins of Deeprock.

The dilapidated city wall resembled the remains of a giant beast, its broken edges jagged and crooked, pointing diagonally towards the leaden-gray sky.

Anton hovered in mid-air, his divine sense spreading out like mercury spilling onto the ground.

In the blink of an eye, he detected several clear spiritual pulses, the source of which was a half-collapsed stone building in the southeast direction.

The next instant, he vanished from the spot in a flash.

When it reappeared, it was already inside that building.

The three giant wolves sprang up from the ground almost at the same time he landed, their short, gray-black fur bristling slightly, their fangs bared, and they growled in a low growl, poised to pounce.

Before they could exert their strength, a dark pool of water silently emerged from the void, spreading along the ground and instantly engulfing their limbs and torsos.

The three giant wolves froze on the spot, as if their bodies were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand.

They tried to struggle, but found that they couldn't even lift their claws; all their strength seemed to be slowly drained away by the dark curtain of water.

"Is this the demon wolf mentioned in the case file?"

Anton's divine sense spread out like threads, entering the three-headed demon wolf's body to examine it carefully.

After a moment, his eyes flickered slightly.

The bloodlines of these demonic wolves were somewhat similar to those of the Hidden Mist, only their bloodline concentration was far lower.

It is highly likely that the bloodline of these giant wolves originates from the divine wolves, which are on the same level as those in the Hidden Mist Village.

Anton's gaze swept over the three-headed demon wolf's blood-red claws, a thoughtful expression on his face.

He then looked at the several metal boxes piled in the corner, and with a casual gesture, the lid of the nearest box popped open on its own, revealing several rows of neatly stacked spirit weapons inside.

One of the longswords flew into the air and landed in Anton's palm.

The sword had a grayish-white sheen and a straight spine. When held in the hand, one could feel the steady and long spiritual pulse within it, which was almost no less than the broadsword he had brought back from the ancient battlefield.

There are four more such spirit weapons in the box.

In addition, there are more than a dozen secondary spirit weapons.

Although their spirituality is slightly weaker, it is still a rare and valuable quality.

Having read this far, Anton understood.

"Your Bloodclaw clan really went to great lengths to lure me out."

The moment he finished speaking, magical power surged from his body.

Without a sound, the surrounding walls, beams, rubble, and tiles turned to dust.

The sunlight poured down from above without any obstruction.

His figure stood in the center of the gray-white dust, his moon-white robe fluttering slightly in the air currents.

Around him, five figures had occupied five directions, forming a tight encirclement.

The auras of the five saints were released without concealment, intertwining with each other like an invisible net, completely sealing off the space within a radius of a thousand meters.

Storm narrowed his eyes, gave Anton a few deep looks, and said in a low voice, "How did you know it was us?"

Anton smiled without saying a word.

The appearance of these giant wolves, coupled with their divine wolf bloodline similar to that of the Hidden Mist, immediately reminded him of the Bloodclaw Clan, and he naturally guessed that the Bloodclaw Clan was behind it all.

After all, there aren't many forces that can produce so many high-quality spirit weapons at once.

The Bloodclaw clan, who had been secretly collecting soul weapons, is undoubtedly the prime suspect.

There's no need to explain these things to the enemy.

Anton's gaze swept over the five werewolf descendants in turn, and he smiled wryly: "Sending five saints to deal with me at the same time, that's quite a show of force. Should I feel honored?"

As far as Anton knew, the Bloodclaw Clan, a long-established first-class power, only had five Saints at most.

Now everyone is here.

This setup clearly shows they're determined to kill him here.

Despite being surrounded, Anton remained calm and composed, causing the five wolf-descended saints present to frown involuntarily and feel a sense of surprise and doubt.

Strom didn't reply, his eyes fixed on Anton's face, trying to discern some clues.

Standing to Anton's right was a tall, thin werewolf who sneered upon hearing this: "To have the five of us gang up on you, you deserve to die."

"I also have some good news for you. Just now, the Bloodclaw Clan has joined forces with many other forces in the eastern part of the continent to launch a war against the Silvermoon Clan."

"It won't be long before the Silvermoon Clan is completely wiped off the continent."

Anton's eyebrows twitched slightly; this was indeed unexpected.

The Bloodclaw Clan clearly came prepared, and did not just focus their efforts on killing him alone.

But his surprise lasted only a moment before his expression returned to calm.

He was confident in the clan's strength.

"It seems you've been planning this for a long time." Anton's tone carried a hint of regret, but there was no trace of panic. "I was originally planning to wait until the clan had grown stronger before dealing with you, but I didn't expect you to strike first."

"Fine, if it's earlier, then it'll be earlier. It'll give us a chance to settle things once and for all."

Sensing the confidence in Anton's words, the five werewolves present all felt a sense of absurdity.

Although none of them possessed combat power at the peak of the Saint realm, they did have two at the Resonance Realm and three at the Sainthood Realm.

This lineup could even put up a fight against a Saint-level opponent.

Dealing with a Saint who has only recently been promoted is a piece of cake.

If it were any opponent in the same situation, even if they didn't show fear, they should at least be serious and prepared.

But Anton's tone made it sound as if they were the ones who had walked right into the trap.

Does this guy think he's at the pinnacle of sainthood?

They had seen arrogant people, but never anyone this arrogant.

"I didn't expect the Meteor Dragon Sword Saint to be such an arrogant fellow." Strom's expression was icy. "Indeed, a genius like you must be very confident in yourself. But unfortunately, today is destined to be your death day."

The other four werewolves quickly suppressed their distracting thoughts, and coldness appeared on their faces.

They had lived for hundreds of years and killed countless so-called geniuses, but none of them could compare to the one before them.

The thought of crushing such a dazzling new star with one's own hands stirred a strange sense of excitement even in these old folks who had long passed the age of youthful passion.

Anton ignored these words and glanced at the three-headed demon wolf beside him.

"At this point, there's no need to hold back anymore. Show us your cards."

"Where's Bloodclaw?"

The tall, thin wolf-like man scoffed, "What are you talking about...?"

He stopped abruptly halfway through his sentence.

However, it was too late. That short half-sentence was enough for Anton to confirm his guess.

"I see." Anton nodded in understanding. "You failed to hatch Bloodclaw, but it seems the revival was successful, which is why you were able to extract Bloodclaw's bloodline and cultivate these demon wolves."

Come to think of it, hatching an egg from the old world is no easy task.

He succeeded because he knew detailed information about the Old World Egg and had many methods from the Great Dao Jade Slip.

The Bloodclaw clan, however, did not have so many advantages.

Being able to extract bloodlines from the Old World eggs of Bloodclaw and cultivate offspring is already quite an achievement.

Realizing he had been tricked into revealing information, the tall, thin wolf-man's face darkened visibly, and his eyes were filled with murderous intent as he looked at Anton.

Strom frowned slightly.

He originally intended to undermine Anton's will with words before taking action, but unexpectedly, after a verbal exchange, they were the ones who were tricked into revealing information.

The elf before him was more composed and shrewd than he had expected.

Realizing that verbal exchanges were useless against Anton, Strom did not hesitate any longer.

He gave the other four werewolves a look.

The next instant, he suddenly raised his claws.

Five dark red claw marks tore out from his fingertips, like five blood-red crescent moons compressed to their extreme, shooting towards Anton with a sharp screech that tore through the air.

However, Anton acted even faster than them.

Almost the instant Strom raised his claws, the sword pellet leaped out of Anton's chest, trembled slightly in the void, and then suddenly split apart.

One thousand and twenty-four beams of Xuanjin sword light, like golden petals scattered by the wind, spread outward from the center, splitting into five, and swept towards the five wolf-descendant saints.

Sensing the extreme sharpness contained within the overwhelming sword light rushing towards them, the pupils of the five wolf-blood saints simultaneously contracted slightly.

They had to abandon their attacks and switch to blocking.

The clanging of metal against metal was so continuous that the intervals were almost indistinguishable.

The sword light and the sharp claws clashed and collided, sparks flying like rain between the sword's edge and the claw's tip.

Once they actually engaged in combat, Strom and the others suddenly realized that Anton's strength far exceeded their expectations.

The overwhelming sword light was not only astonishing in number, but each one was powerful enough to easily kill a peak legendary expert.

More importantly, their coordination is like that of living creatures, moving forward and backward without any hesitation, restraining, blocking, and pursuing, with the distance between them as precise as if measured by a ruler.

The wolf-born saints' expressions immediately turned extremely ugly.

They didn't expect that Anton, who had only been a Saint for a little over ten years, was already stronger than most Resonance Realm cultivators.

Even if you randomly pick any one of them, they wouldn't be a match for Anton in a one-on-one situation.

If such a genius cannot be eliminated here, allowing him more time to grow, it will be an absolute nightmare for the Bloodclaw Clan.

The five wolf-born saints made their judgments almost simultaneously.

Strom and Olsen sprang up simultaneously, their claws crisscrossing in the void, leaving dark red claw marks.

The claw marks expanded rapidly in mid-air, transforming into two enormous crescent moons of blood, like a pair of magnified scythes, attacking from the left and right.

The tall, thin wolf-like figure suddenly blurred, and a purple-white bolt of lightning exploded from his palm, like a thunder spear compressed to its limit, piercing straight at Anton's face.

On the other side, a burly werewolf suddenly slammed his fist into the ground.

The ground within a radius of several hundred meters suddenly churned up, and countless pebbles and dust were gathered, compressed, and reshaped by an invisible force, transforming into a giant hand made of rock and soil, with its five fingers spread out, slamming down on Andong's head.

The last wolf-born man crossed his fists and thrust them out, creating a visible, transparent ripple that burst forth from his fists, distorting and deforming the air in its path, and even causing the light to momentarily shift.

The five attacks came almost simultaneously, one after the other.