A new group of werewolves brought out from the tribe was lining up to undergo the “Assimilation Baptism” performed by Piggy and Lin Jun.
To be honest, for Piggy, this work had long since shifted from being a coveted privilege to a purely routine task.
After tasting wine enhanced by [Delicious LV8], going back to drinking the blood of ordinary werewolves felt no different than a human being forced to swallow a bowl of tasteless paste.
Calling it “painful” might be an exaggeration, but it was certainly far from enjoyable.
What’s more, every time she bit into a werewolf’s coarse neck, her mouth would end up full of wolf hair, which she would spend ages spitting out. It was utterly damaging to her graceful image.
Elsewhere, Little Blue, who had just been crowned the new Wolf King, sought out Karen—the only one who had not shown up to watch his “Alpha Challenge.” With no small amount of pride, he boasted:
“I’m the Wolf King now, Karen!”
But Karen was rubbing her sore arm. She had just lost once again in a head-on clash against Norris during sparring.
Sneak attacks had been banned by the boss, and when it came to direct combat, she always lost against Norris. This left Karen thoroughly irritated.
She shot a displeased glance at the triumphant Little Blue and at the Marshal Puji sitting smugly on top of his head, then asked dryly:“Oh, impressive. But tell me—who’s bigger? You, the so-called Wolf King, or the big boss sitting on your head?”
Little Blue froze, then blurted out:
“Uh… of course the boss is bigger!”
Karen immediately rewarded him with an exaggerated eye-roll.
“Then what kind of head wolf are you supposed to be?!”
With that, she couldn’t be bothered to continue arguing, turning away in irritation and leaving the newly crowned Wolf King standing there in confusion.
The Marshal Puji perched on his head wiggled its backside a little, as if patting a dog’s head for comfort.
But Little Blue wasn’t particularly upset. He had come to Karen mostly to show off his “new clothes” anyway.
Soon enough, his attention shifted. He tilted his head slightly and curiously asked the boss above:
“Boss, what does it feel like, sitting on my head?”
Lin Jun, controlling the Puji, shifted its position slightly as if truly considering the sensation.
“Not much. Too much fur, kind of slippery, not very stable. Worse than sitting on the Huntress’ head.”
“Then why do you always like staying on my head?” Little Blue pressed.
“Because you’re the tallest!” Lin Jun replied matter-of-factly.
Lin Jun loved the feeling of others having to look up at him.
…
Meanwhile, in the elven city of Ishildorin, inside a small house at its base—
The sprite Puji flapped its wings, just lifting off from Elawen’s silky hair and attempting to land on Saryan’s head, which looked “higher status.”
Although such radical suggestions were rejected by most rational elves, they revealed the shift in public mentality.
Saryan fully understood these emotions. Anyone who had seen comrades, friends, or family fall prey to these endless berserk monsters could not help but feel despair.
Even he was not immune.
A few days ago, the grim news arrived that one of his own friends had been infected.
The druids had tried their best to cleanse the corruption, but the sight of his friend’s blood-red eyes and insane roars still left Saryan grieving.
He also knew clearly that such despair was the very soil where Madness thrived best.
Already, there had been cases where rangers who had never directly encountered infected monsters nonetheless fell victim amid fierce battles.
Because of this, the Captain of the Guard had been forced to rotate frontline units in batches to stabilize emotions and ease mental strain.
Though it helped somewhat, this greatly slowed the purge.
What worried Saryan the most was that even now, they still did not understand the demons’ true purpose in spreading Madness.
At first, he had thought it was a ploy to increase pressure on the human warfront, creating chaos in the elves’ rear to slow them down.
But according to the latest intelligence, the demons had not stepped up their assaults on the eastern line. On the contrary, they appeared to have gone strangely quiet.
For the elves, this was by no means good news.
If the demons had invested so much effort, they must be plotting something.
If the target was not the humans, then the most likely possibility was that the scheme was aimed directly at the elves themselves.
And at this moment, they remained in the dark about their enemy’s true intentions. Being forced into passivity was suffocating.
Meanwhile, with most spellcasters having been deployed to the front lines, the “Surveillance Array” project Saryan had been leading in the city had been put on hold, leaving the radical factions’ concerns unresolved.
Just yesterday, the Elf King had even directly ordered his teacher, Iros, to head to the DivineWood Dungeon—not only to aid in the cleansing but also to investigate whether some unknown mutation had appeared inside.