33: Chapter 33 The Berserk War God_1 33: Chapter 33 The Berserk War God_1 Carson Flores’ expert image was put to good use at this moment, and regardless of what these wealthy heirs thought, they quickly formed a circle according to his instructions, each picking up a weapon nearby.
Ethan scrambled to the front of Darian Marshman’s tent, and Darian reacted swiftly, grabbing the crossbow that was not far away, and with a swish, slotted the arrow into the bow.
In that brief moment, the bushes rustled, and a pack of wild wolves burst out of the woods.
Upon seeing the gathered crowd, they didn’t attack directly but quickly spread out, forming an arc around the group.
Samantha Tate stood behind Carson, her eyes filled with terror and her face pale, “Carson…”
Carson handed her a folding chair with a calm expression and exclaimed loudly, “The way wolves attack is similar to dogs, they get close to the target and bite without letting go.
Once the target falls, it will go for the neck; look the wolves in the eyes, don’t be afraid.
The more scared you are, the faster it will attack you.”
“If a wolf pounces at you, wave whatever is in your hand, shout loudly to intimidate it, or use chairs to keep it at bay; don’t let it get on top of you.
Remember, keep the circle, back to back, and don’t run!”
After giving the instructions, Carson patted Samantha on the shoulder and smiled slightly, “Don’t worry, with me here, there’s nothing to fear.”
Seeing Carson’s calm smile, the tension in Samantha’s heart eased considerably, “What do we do?
Just stand off against them ?”
Carson chuckled, his gaze roaming amongst the wolf pack, “A standoff is one method, but it’s not a long-term solution.
The wolf pack is very patient when hunting; a better approach is to find the Wolf King, kill it, and the pack will naturally flee.”
Carson’s gaze settled behind the wolf pack, where a significantly larger male wolf stood like a Great General at the rear, its eyes darkly fixed on the group.
“Remember what I said, don’t be afraid.”
Carson casually picked up two stainless steel skewers, about thirty centimeters long with ebony handles and stainless steel tips on the front.
Holding them in his hands felt like wielding two daggers.
Carson walked towards the distant male wolf, and as he moved, all surrounding wolves crouched down, baring their teeth and glaring menacing at him.
The pack leader suddenly let out a deep roar, and with its call, all the wolves primed to attack sprang into action.
A wolf suddenly leaped forward, pouncing straight at Carson.
Carson sidestepped, and his left skewer thrust out, accurately hitting the wolf’s eye and then stabbing in fiercely.
The wolf didn’t even get a chance to howl before it dropped dead.
The death of their pack member didn’t scare the other wolves; they all charged forward, about ten of them rushing at Carson, three or four at Darian and Ethan, and another three or four at the crowd.
Darian raised his crossbow and shot an arrow at the wolf that was closing in, but he had no chance to load a second bolt before the following wolves charged at him.
Darian drew his dagger and fought alongside the wolves.
Seeing them pounce, Ethan turned deathly pale, his legs gave way, and he fell onto the ground, instantly wetting a large patch of his pants; he had been so frightened that he’d lost control of his bladder.
Carson, surrounded by the pack, showed no sign of fear.
Brandishing the skewers, he stabbed left and right, piercing the skulls of two approaching wolves in an instant.
A wolf took the opportunity to leap from behind and bit down on Carson’s shoulder.
Unable to withdraw the skewers in time, he just let go with his right hand, grabbed the wolf’s hind legs, and yanked it off his shoulder.
The wolf clung fiercely to his shoulder, and as Carson yanked, his clothes tore apart completely, revealing his sturdy, powerful back.
Carson, holding the wolf’s hind legs in his right hand, swung it around as a weapon and ruthlessly swept it through the air.
The wolf collided with the others that were charging in, and for a moment, there were agonized howls and the wolves scattered in retreat.
Carson swung the wolf high and then slammed it forcefully down onto the ground in front of him.
The dull impact echoed; with that one blow, the wolf’s body broke, killing it instantly.
Carson dropped the wolf, tore off the tattered T-shirt, revealing his upper body drenched in wolf blood and seething with explosive power.
Stepping on the corpse of a wolf he had thrown earlier, he grabbed the skewer with his right hand, pulling it out, and with both hands holding the skewers, he roared at the sneering pack around him.
The wolves were daunted by Carson’s ferocious roar and backed away a few steps, tails tucked, no longer daring to attack.
Seizing the moment, Carson turned back and charged towards Samantha.
A wolf was tearing at the folding chair in Samantha’s hands, trying to breach the defense when Carson arrived, thrusting the skewer through its skull.
Samantha was pale, her tears nearly frightened out of her, and before Carson could even offer comfort, screams suddenly erupted from behind.