The Variant Species Wolf King was blind, his wolf head battered until it was a bloody mess.
He was still standing there, solely relying on his tenacious vitality and impact resistance.
With his sense of smell, he could detect the White Wolf approaching him.
Equally vicious and murderous, he wanted to counterattack at the brink of death.
But the bones in his forepaws had been shattered in the brutal fight just moments ago.
His fanged teeth were broken off halfway, hardly capable of mounting another powerful attack.
The remaining dignity of the Wolf King kept him standing, never letting out a plea for mercy with a mournful howl.
With the White Wolf getting closer, the scent of death approached as well.
Amidst this oppressive atmosphere, the Wolf King recalled the day of his youth when he was driven out of the pack for being weak.
Today was similar, with the smell of death and the frigid air circling around him.
