Tree after tree was shattered and felled by a colossal, unidentifiable force.

The resounding shouts of the mercenaries echoed continuously as they pursued a swift, fleeing figure through the forest.

The Black Sword, borne aloft on a tempestuous gale, lagged several paces behind all the mercenaries, following at a leisurely and unhurried pace.

He turned his palm upwards, and a glowing orb, composed of intricate and elaborate patterns, hovered in mid - air.

This orb was connected to three larger ones, enabling the mercenaries to pursue their quarry with clarity and precision, even without the need for torches.

"Who would have anticipated the presence of such a rare and exotic creature here? It appears to have mutated after consuming the flesh and blood of werewolves. Capturing it would yield an excellent specimen, wouldn't it, my dear?"

The Black Sword spoke with a casual air, pausing to smooth the feathers of the pet perched on his shoulder.

The red light in the eyes of the pitch - black raptor flickered. Strangely, the horn on its beak twisted upwards in a strange manner, as if it were smiling.

Ahead, Snooker led a contingent of mercenaries in a relentless hunt, employing every conceivable tool for capturing wild beasts.

However, NightRoar consistently managed to evade their attempts at the most perilous of moments, prolonging the hunt that, in Snooker's estimation, should have concluded long ago.

At this juncture, NightRoar bore numerous wounds across its body, and the healing process was excruciatingly slow. These injuries were sustained during the initial encounter.

By means of some unknown magic, the Black Sword had significantly impaired NightRoar's self - healing ability.

Recognizing its inability to prevail, NightRoar made the decisive choice to flee, evading and stalling as it awaited assistance.

Snooker brandished a chain hook, matching NightRoar's speed with ease as he doggedly pursued it through the forest.

Just as his subordinates forced NightRoar to change its course, Snooker seized the opportune moment, lunged forward, and hurled the chain hook.

Screech!

The sound of metal slicing through flesh and blood filled Snooker with intense exhilaration. The iron chain snapped taut instantaneously.

He immediately placed his feet on the trees or the stones on the ground and began to pull back with all his might.

NightRoar let out a pitiful howl, lost its balance, and crashed to the ground.

The mercenaries, with their most formidable members in the vanguard, immediately pounced upon the fallen prey.

Sensing the imminent danger, NightRoar promptly opened its disproportionately large maw and snapped viciously at the foremost attacker.

That individual, being highly experienced, managed to dodge the attack in advance, narrowly escaping the fearsome jaws.

The upper and lower jaws closed with a loud, crisp snap, sending a shudder of through the evader.

Those behind also sensed the terrifying power of NightRoar's mouth. They were certain that even the most resilient of armors would be rent asunder with a single bite!

Consequently, they refrained from approaching any closer and instead opted to wear it down with ranged weapons.

The Black Sword, observing the mercenaries' inability to subdue NightRoar, felt a pang of dissatisfaction.

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A pitch - black wind blade took shape in his hand. Just as he was about to hurl it to sever NightRoar's mouth, a sudden and unexpected sense of danger assailed him.

Before he could react, the raptor on his shoulder spread its wings with even greater speed.

The wings unfurled with a thunderous sound, like an explosion, enveloping his entire body.

Simultaneously, a deafening clash of metal rang out, piercing the eardrums.

The Black Sword felt his wind - riding magic dissipate instantaneously, and he was sent flying, along with the enveloping wings.

As the wings gradually retracted, the agonized screams of the mercenaries rang out one after another.

The Black Sword's once - immaculate attire now hung in wrinkled disarray, and his meticulously styled hair was in dishevelment. A surge of anger welled up within him.

He used his walking stick to prop himself up and rise to his feet, immediately turning his gaze towards the battlefield.

A young man stood beside the exotic creature. His arms were covered in black fur, and his claws extended menacingly. The ordinary mercenaries surrounding them had already fallen, leaving only Snooker and three others of substantial strength still standing.

However, their situation was far from optimistic.

The pitch - black raptor leaped onto the Black Sword's shoulder, its wings remaining unfurled, and the distinct scratch marks on them emitting wisps of smoke.

"Was it you who stole our cargo, boy?"

Snooker demanded harshly, his forehead beaded with cold sweat.

Having nearly lost his life in the confrontation with Glen moments ago, he was filled with extreme trepidation.

"Cargo?" Glen was initially perplexed, but then comprehension dawned. "You mean that forest elf. Yes, she's with me, but what are you going to do if I refuse to hand her over?"

Bloodshot eyes appeared in Snooker's gaze, and the veins in his neck bulged. He roared at the top of his lungs:

"Who do you think you are?! Do you believe that a modicum of strength gives you the right to provoke anyone you please?! The power behind us is beyond your wildest imaginings! Boy, if you know what's good for you, hand over the cargo immediately and accompany us back to face punishment! You might fare better that way!"

"Wow, I'm absolutely terrified." Glen's tone remained flat. "Do you think I've never had any dealings with nobles? The Punk family behind you is merely a count's lineage. How powerful could it possibly be? Do you really think I should be intimidated? Are you trying to amuse me?"

Glen was not exaggerating. In these outlying regions, a count might be considered a noble of high standing, but the original owner had encountered numerous count families.

He had even met marquises and was no less knowledgeable about them than these mercenaries.

These contemptuous words enraged Snooker even further. He ground his teeth so hard that they creaked, and for a moment, he was at a loss for a retort.

"Speaking with such arrogance, it's clear you've never seen the world. A little power has gone to your head, and you think you're invincible. Let me teach you a lesson."

The Black Sword had already moved to Snooker's side. His attire and hair, somehow, had once again regained their neatness.

Glen regarded this seemingly refined old gentleman, sensing a familiar aura about him, and raised an eyebrow. "An evil dark mage?"

"Magic is simply magic. There is no such thing as good or evil... It's beneath me to explain this to a lowly commoner like you who is ignorant of magic. Just die!"

The Black Sword covered his face with one hand, and then suddenly launched an energy sphere composed of wind blades, hurtling towards Glen with terrifying destructive force!

The attack came with blinding speed. Glen quickly flung NightRoar to the side and, using the centrifugal force, evaded the attack himself.

He could sense that this magic possessed an extremely powerful penetrating ability, one that even the magically - resistant fur of a werewolf could not withstand.

Although it could penetrate defenses, he had already discerned that this mage's strength was likely at the third level. He was confident that he could handle it without transforming.

The fact that the attack missed was precisely what the Black Sword had anticipated. The previous magic had been carefully prepared, and now his second spell had been fully incanted.

The rapidly rotating black wind transformed into a series of circular blades that curved menacingly towards the opponent!

Glen's figure was as elusive as a specter. He evaded the attack with ease and gradually closed the distance between himself and the Black Sword.

"You're as difficult as a rat. Let's see how you dodge this!"

The old gentleman, no longer maintaining his elegance and composure, threw out a large net that exuded a corrosive power with a wide - sweeping motion. It spread out and descended upon Glen like a shroud!

"If I can't dodge it, then I won't."

Glen paid it no heed as long as it wasn't the extremely penetrating wind blades.

With a flick of his right hand, his wolf claws emerged. He waved it at the large net, and the seemingly fearsome corrosive net shattered instantaneously.

Realizing that the situation was deteriorating, the Black Sword felt a moment of panic and hastily resorted to his most powerful magic.

As Glen charged forward, he suddenly felt himself being locked on. An inescapable attack was about to descend upon him!

A huge, pitch - black arm emerged from behind the Black Sword, plunged into the ground, and retrieved a massive, broken knight's sword that dripped with black liquid. It then swung towards Glen with great force!