All of his actions just now were purely instinctive. Glen seemingly found it impossible to resist this group of endearing warriors.

Elena remained rooted to the spot. The sensation she had just experienced was rather peculiar. Despite the fact that the person in question was younger than her, she felt as if she had been comforted by her father's affectionate head pat.

A blush blossomed on her cheeks, and she hastily said,"Thank you for your words of counsel. I shall take my leave now."

Glen only managed to raise his hand, but before he could wave, she had already mounted her griffin and flown away.

Windsor then cast a meaningful glance at Glen and also rode away on her griffin.

Could it be that I've inadvertently charmed her?... Glen pondered uncertainly as he resumed driving the cart.

...

"A seventh-level werewolf?"

In a cave permeated with the stench of blood, an old man with a full white beard reclined on a lofty rock. He opened his mouth, revealing a set of yellowed teeth, and took a bite of raw meat, mumbling his question in a somewhat indistinct manner.

"Yes, a werewolf capable of sneakily slaying a demon leader must surely be at least of the seventh level,"

an emaciated old man below replied deferentially.

"Preposterous," the white-bearded old man above scoffed."There cannot exist a werewolf more powerful than myself in this world. That must be someone using shape-shifting magic to disguise themselves. Use your heads and think it through."

Below, apart from the emaciated old man, there were densely packed over a hundred individuals. Some were in human form, while others were in a half-wolf form.

Upon hearing the old werewolf king's verdict, they were initially silent, but then they nodded in agreement as if suddenly seeing the light.

"Our king is indeed astute. This is clearly a ploy to frame us! I wonder if those witless knights will fall for it and come to trouble us?"

The gaunt old man below said resentfully.

The old werewolf king nonchalantly tossed aside the half-eaten piece of meat and let out a hearty laugh."Do they wish to cause us trouble? They'll have to find us first! Over all these years, when has our werewolf clan ever been eradicated? There's no need to fret at all."

The discarded piece of meat was quickly set upon by a horde of werewolves. After all, it was the meat of a high-level magical beast, a delicacy highly prized by werewolves.

Only a few werewolf chieftains remained unmoved. Their eyes were strikingly uniform, constantly fixed on the position of the werewolf king.

However, they dared not reveal their ambitions at this juncture. The current werewolf king was still beyond their ability to confront, and they had to bide their time.

"I seem to recall that Chieftain Parker went to the vicinity of the area invaded by the demons. He still hasn't returned. Could he have been killed?"

The old werewolf king suddenly inquired, as if struck by a thought.

"Yes, my king. Chieftain Parker has lost all communication,"

the old man below replied respectfully.

"What a pity. I've lost another capable subordinate, hahaha..." The old werewolf king uttered words that belied his true feelings.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Yes, Parker was originally tasked with transporting goods for the king. His disappearance nearly resulted in the loss of the goods,"

the old man below said, his tone laden with dissatisfaction.

The other chieftains all cast a sidelong glance at this old man, either intentionally or unintentionally.

What a sycophant!

They all felt a deep sense of disdain in their hearts.

"It's merely some magical beast meat and materials. We can always seize them back if needed," the old werewolf king said indifferently.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a shout suddenly rang out from the periphery."My king! We've just received a letter from the demons!"

"What?!" The old werewolf king was immediately thrown into a state of agitation.

A letter from the demons was like a death knell, an ultimatum dragging one down to the depths of hell.

"Where did it turn up?!" He leaped forward in a single bound and landed in front of the werewolf member at the periphery, seizing him by the collar.

"At... at the stronghold in the Senbao District..." The werewolf member stammered, trembling with fear.

"What did the letter say?!" Several werewolf chieftains exclaimed in haste.

"The letter demands that we hand over the Flame Fang immediately, or our souls will be consigned to eternal torment..."

The old werewolf king crushed the head of the reporting individual in his hand and vanished in a flash.

At the werewolf stronghold in the Senbao District.

The werewolves gazed up at the words written in demonic fire in the sky and were plunged into a state of profound panic.

...

Glen was driving a deer-drawn cart along a winding dirt path.

After ascertaining that his shop in Dudd Town had not been maliciously damaged, he set off towards the location where Luther and the others had taken refuge.

Without making any deliberate inquiries, he simply followed his sense of smell while driving, so he was unaware of his destination.

Owing to the aftermath of the demon invasion, the road was devoid of human presence. On either side of the road were undulating hills, strewn with jagged rocks.

The road was also incredibly bumpy, a result of being heavily trampled by numerous people.

It's truly vexing that there are no convenient communication devices in this world. If there were mobile phones, I could simply call them back with a single call. Why would I need to make this arduous journey... he grumbled inwardly as he increased the speed of the deer-drawn cart.

He could also send a letter to inform them, but considering that he would be pressed for time in the coming days, he decided to make the trip in person.

Suddenly, several figures emerged ahead. All of them were armed, and it was evident that they were robbers.

Glen was immediately filled with excitement.

Moments later...

He counted the few silver coins in his hand and then pursed his lips in disappointment.

He continued driving forward.

As for the robbers, they were now almost naked, huddled together and covering their private parts, their expressions filled with such profound grievance that they were on the verge of tears.

They had capitalized on the chaos of the demon invasion to make some ill-gotten gains and had been successful on several occasions. When they failed, it was because they were overpowered, but they had always managed to escape.

They never anticipated that their hard work over the past few days would be snatched away by someone else. They felt utterly aggrieved.

After driving at a brisk pace for another half an hour.

A camp came into view ahead, situated beside the road. There were several spots where smoke was billowing from cooking fires, and faint voices could be heard.

It appeared to be a mercenary camp.

Glen had no intention of paying it any heed and drove the cart, intending to pass by on the adjacent road.

Unexpectedly, the mercenaries on sentry duty outside the camp hailed him:

"Hold on a moment!"

The deer-drawn cart came to a gradual halt, and Glen turned to look at the two mercenaries who had stopped him.

"You're not allowed to proceed," the two mercenaries blocked the cart, wearing mischievous smiles.

In such a desolate and isolated place, nine out of ten individuals traveling alone harbored malicious intentions. Even those who were not inherently bad would not hesitate to adopt a different persona under such circumstances.

"Why can't I pass through?" Glen yawned and inquired.

He was feeling rather fatigued after driving on the bumpy road for such a long time.

Upon seeing the other person's nonchalant demeanor, the two men burst into laughter, assuming that the person before them was oblivious to the situation.

"You're coming from the area invaded by the demons. How can we be certain that you're not a demon in disguise? Therefore, we can't let you pass. Leave this cart here and accompany us inside,"

one of the mercenaries said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Glen merely nodded and said,"So, you're just common robbers."

The two mercenaries laughed, regarding the other person as a slow-witted fool.

But the next instant, the world spun around for the two of them, and then they were slammed violently onto the ground.

The impact nearly shattered their bones. When they finally came to their senses,

they realized that they had been hurled through the air.

Someone witnessed this scene, and the entire camp was immediately thrown into an uproar.

A group of mercenaries rushed out of the camp and encircled Glen, eyeing him warily.