Chapter Seventy-Nine: Facing the Pack of Wild Wolves!

Gradually, the wolf pack drew closer to Qin Feng, and in an instant, Qin Feng faced them head-on. The battle was on the verge of erupting. His eyes burned with a fierce fighting spirit as he calmly observed the wolves, feeling their intense aggression. "Just in time," he thought. "If you want a fight, then I’ll give you one."

Qin Feng sensed the tremendous combat power of the wolves; they were formidable, exuding a terrifying aura of violence. Their intent seemed to be to tear him apart, limb from limb. Facing a pack rather than a lone wolf only heightened the threat.

As the wolves closed in, Qin Feng stood his ground, neither retreating nor showing a trace of fear. His whole being radiated a powerful will to fight. He understood well that the more one feared, the closer death would creep. To face danger head-on was perhaps the only way to snatch a sliver of life and survive. With a soldier’s weapon in hand, he had nothing to fear.

He knew these wild wolves were about to attack, so he would meet them in battle and teach them that he was not to be trifled with. He would unleash his full strength.

"Wolf pack, let’s see who survives in the end." Calmly, Qin Feng stared at the approaching wolves. There was a fight ahead, but he reminded himself—he must survive.

At that moment, the wolves seemed to sense his challenge. They let out a chorus of piercing howls that echoed through the jungle, chilling, sinister, and enough to make one’s skin crawl in the darkness.

Howls, growing louder and more urgent, sounded from the distance as even more wild wolves raced over. Their eyes glowed with a vicious green light, their fangs bared, saliva dripping to the ground, filling the air with an icy dread. It felt as if, at any moment, the pack could devour him whole.

Encountering a wolf pack in the jungle was never good fortune. Only swift and decisive combat, eliminating them quickly, could ensure survival.

"Let’s see if I can take on this pack," Qin Feng thought to himself. He knew he had to fight fiercely. Only by doing so could he deal with the wolves and escape safely. This place was perilous; if he failed to destroy the pack, he might soon face even greater numbers.

Moreover, there could be pursuers lurking in the jungle. Only by swiftly handling the wolves could he be prepared for any enemies that might appear at any time.

A sudden, chilling howl split the air. A wolf, eyes cold as death, fixed its gaze on Qin Feng, murder gleaming within. Then, with a speed like lightning—a black shadow darting forward—it launched itself at him.

The wolf closed the ten-meter gap in an instant, its muscular limbs propelling it forward. With a powerful leap, it sprang at Qin Feng, jaws wide, aiming straight for his throat. In just two or three seconds, the beast was upon him, a rank stench flooding the air.

Qin Feng could see the wolf’s glistening fangs and gaping maw, aimed with deadly intent at his neck. The beast meant to tear out his throat and feast on his body.

But Qin Feng understood the nature of wolves, knew their instinct to go for the kill. "You won’t succeed," he muttered, whipping out his combat knife and slashing swiftly at the wolf’s neck.

A spray of blood arced through the air—the wolf’s throat was severed. Blood gushed as it crumpled to the ground, dead before it could even cry out.

Before Qin Feng could examine his kill, two more wolves charged at him, snarling, their speed astonishing. They attacked from both sides, intent on tearing him apart and devouring him, their vengeance only sated by his destruction.

"Two at once—very well. I’ll finish you both," Qin Feng thought, gripping his knife and watching the pair intently. He saw their cunning in the way they darted back and forth, covering each other as they ran, employing a coordinated pincer attack.

"These wolves are clever," Qin Feng realized. "They know how to work together, to attack as one—a formidable assault."

In a blur, the two wolves sprang at him, front paws extended, claws glinting, determined to shred him to pieces.

But Qin Feng had fought wolves before; he knew their ferocity well. Dodging the first wolf’s assault, he slashed at the second’s belly with his knife. Blood sprayed, and the wolf’s abdomen split open. It arced through the air and crashed heavily to the ground, eyes closing in reluctant surrender.

Simultaneously, the second wolf launched a fierce attack from behind, aiming again for Qin Feng’s throat—the killing strike of a wolf.

But Qin Feng, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, spun around in an instant, his knife flashing coldly as it sliced through the wolf’s neck. Blood poured forth as the beast staggered, unable to control its body, and bolted forward from the momentum.

With a heavy thud, it crashed into a large tree. Blood spattered as its skull split open, its eyes wide with confusion, unable to comprehend what had happened. But it had no time to understand—the light faded from its eyes as it collapsed, lifeless, to the ground.

"Come, then, wolves. Let’s see who destroys whom," Qin Feng growled at the pack. He knew their strength was formidable, enough to instill terror, but he would fight back with everything he had. He would not flee; he would battle fiercely, determined to bring the pack down, to survive. A flame of conviction burned in his heart: no matter what, he would live. He still longed to return, alive, to see Su Yun again.