Chapter 35: The Wolf Spirit Lord

**Wolf Lord: Zǐ — the Sovereign of the Wolf Spirit Ruins, wielding overwhelming power over all other Wolf Spirits. Special Ability: Call the Pack — can summon any Wolf Spirit weaker than itself within proximity.**

Chen Zhuo’s heart pounded like a war drum. His eyes locked onto the creature emerging slowly from the shadows.

This wasn’t like any Wolf Spirit he’d faced before. It looked more like something ripped straight out of a horror film—half-man, half-beast, with a presence so massive it seemed to warp the air around it.

Over two meters tall, its silhouette filled the stone archway, casting a shadow that swallowed the entire corridor. Its frame was monstrous—muscles rippling beneath thick, coarse fur, each strand trembling as it moved. The limbs ended in claws like curved daggers, long and wicked, capable of slicing through steel armor with ease.

Its face was a nightmare. Jagged fangs jutted from its maw, dominating half its skull—long, needle-sharp teeth that gleamed faintly under the dim light. Cold, calculating eyes fixed on Chen Zhuo, not with rage, but with the predatory stillness of a hunter assessing prey—or an equal.

Chen Zhuo didn’t flinch. He stared back, unblinking.

They began to circle each other, slow and deliberate, measuring distance, weight, intent.

He hadn’t come all the way from the shelter just to run. This was the apex predator of the ruins. He needed to know what he was up against.

And the Wolf Lord? It wanted nothing more than to tear this intruder apart.

Neither side had a clear edge. Chen Zhuo had never seen anything this big—his nerves were twitching. But the Wolf Lord had watched him slaughter dozens of lesser spirits with terrifying ease. It wasn’t about to underestimate him.

After a tense few minutes, the beast finally snapped. With a low growl, it took a cautious step forward.

The moment it moved, a wave of raw, primal energy washed over Chen Zhuo—wild, ancient, suffocating. His skin prickled. *Well… if I’m gonna die, at least I’ll find out if my body’s worth the upgrade.*

“**ROOOOAAARRR!**”

The Wolf Lord struck first—a claw the size of Chen Zhuo’s head swung down in a thunderous arc.

Even before it landed, he caught the stench—coppery, rotten, thick with death. Countless lives had ended beneath those claws.

He rolled sideways, barely escaping the blow. Two quick flips put space between them.

The Wolf Lord didn’t pursue. It stepped back, watching, waiting—calculating.

Chen Zhuo tightened his grip on the iron sword, mind racing. *Speed-wise, it’s slower than me. That much is clear.*
*But strength? Let’s see how deep that well goes.*

He charged.

“**Clang!**”

Iron met claw. Chen Zhuo poured every ounce of strength into the strike—his legs, his back, his arms—all driving forward. The Wolf Lord blocked with both hands, muscles bulging, holding firm.

For a heartbeat, they were locked—two titans pushing against each other.

Then, just as Chen Zhuo started to think he might wear it down, the Wolf Lord’s mouth split into a grin—wide, jagged, full of malice.

*No.*

It wasn’t struggling. It had been playing possum.

Now, as Chen Zhuo relaxed—just for a second—the monster struck.

Muscles exploded along its arms. One hand clamped down on the sword, refusing to let go. The other lifted high, claws extended, poised to crush.

The blow came fast—like a falling anvil.

Chen Zhuo’s breath caught. That claw would shatter his grip, send the sword flying. Then—nothing. No time to react.

He saw it coming—felt the wind of it—and then, in a flash, he activated the Survival Platform.

The sword vanished from his hand.

The Wolf Lord staggered—its momentum broken, its attack thrown off balance.

Chen Zhuo seized the opening. A swift side roll, a burst of speed—he was gone, already clearing the danger zone.

The Wolf Lord stood frozen, massive frame swaying slightly, as if trying to process what had just happened.

Chen Zhuo wanted to leave. *Now.* But the beast had been clever—blocking the exit earlier, deliberately. There was no way out except over it.

He glanced toward the door. The Wolf Lord noticed. Snorted. Turned its head slightly, smirking. *You’re mine.*

Arrows flew—fired from a rare-grade bow. They struck the beast’s chest, thudded into its hide. The Wolf Lord didn’t even flinch. It flicked a claw once, and the arrows fell to the ground like dead leaves.

Not a single step moved.

No damage. No effect.

Panic crept in. *Nothing works. I have to run.*

But here was a small mercy: the Wolf Lord was *slow*. Not pretending this time. It truly couldn’t keep up.

Still, he needed a plan.

*Fast enough to outrun it? Yes.*
*Only one exit. So I need to draw it away.*

His eyes swept the room. Besides the main entrance, there were two other doors.

One led to the path where the common Wolf Spirits had entered—rare-tier, weak. The other… was where the Wolf Lord himself had emerged.

That one was the key.

He turned, locked eyes with the beast. It stood motionless, confident, sure of victory.

Chen Zhuo didn’t hesitate.

He sprinted—straight into the second door.

The Wolf Lord blinked. Thought it was finally going to fight. Then—*whoosh*—the man vanished behind the stone arch.

Fury erupted.

The beast roared, a sound that shook the ruins, echoing through the halls like a storm breaking.

Inside the chamber, Chen Zhuo found himself in a smaller room—still ancient, still dusty, but somehow… different.

Right in front of him, glowing softly, floated a radiant orb.

**[Wolf Spirit Orb: Zǐ — the sacred relic of the Wolf Spirit Ruins. Continuously generates rare-tier Wolf Spirits. Long-term exposure to the orb may increase their rank.]**

“Whoa,” Chen Zhuo muttered. “A high-end mob farm?”

*No wonder I didn’t see any elite-tier spirits earlier—they were all just… napping in here.*

On the floor, ten refined-tier Wolf Spirits lay wrapped in gray cloth, peaceful, almost serene.

The orb bathed them in pure white light—holy, almost divine.

He frowned. Tapped it with his boot. Nothing else. No hidden abilities. No traps.

“Alright,” he said, voice flat. “If this thing gives me nothing… and keeps spawning monsters… then it’s gotta go.”

He raised the sword.

*Crack.*

The orb split down the middle with a sharp, echoing sound.

It shattered—crimson light spilling out like blood—then collapsed into two lifeless halves, rolling across the stone floor.

“**Thud.**”

The Wolf Lord arrived just in time to see it.

The orb—its source, its power, its legacy—lay in pieces.

Silence.

Then, a roar—not of anger, but of disbelief.

The beast stood frozen, staring at the wreckage.

And Chen Zhuo? He was already running—toward the next door, toward the next challenge.

Because now, the real game had just begun.