Without hesitation, he led the reconnaissance team forward. Their figures darted through the mountains like a whirlwind, swift and decisive.
Chen Feng's steps were steady and powerful, his eyes revealing a firmness and decisiveness. Behind him, the soldiers of the reconnaissance squad followed closely, their steps perfectly synchronized, like an invincible army.
As they drew closer, Chen Feng could see the smoke rising more and more clearly. He could smell the tense atmosphere in the air—the smell of impending war.
His heart pounded harder and harder. He knew this would be a life-or-death struggle, and they had to give it their all to complete the mission.
"howl--"
Half an hour later, the reconnaissance team cautiously approached the location of the beacon fire. Their steps were light, as if afraid of disturbing everything around them. With only five or six miles to go, Chen Feng's heart pounded even harder; he could clearly sense the unusual activity on the hill ahead.
On the hill, hundreds of werewolves gathered densely, their figures appearing particularly ferocious in the moonlight. The werewolf warriors wore heavy armor, wielded sharp weapons, and their eyes revealed a coldness and murderous intent.
The ordinary werewolves, on the other hand, appeared somewhat disorganized. Some were growling in low voices, while others were looking around, seemingly filled with fear of the upcoming battle.
The atmosphere was incredibly tense, as if a storm was about to break. A thick, chilling stench of blood filled the air. Chen Feng gripped his longsword tightly; he knew a fierce battle was inevitable.
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