Chapter 2: The Survival Instinct

Kael stood in the fifth row, fourth column. He knew that if he didn't come up with a plan quickly, he would likely become one of the fifty children destined to die.

Kael had some knowledge about Fang Wolves, having studied Soul Pets extensively during his time with his family. Fang Wolves belonged to the beast category of the monster realm, specifically the wolf clan. Judging by their fur color and size, these Fang Wolves had likely reached the eighth stage of growth.

A Fang Wolf at the eighth stage was no less formidable than a burly adult wielding a machete. Kael realized that survival didn't mean defeating these wolves; it meant avoiding their attacks until fifty children had already perished.

"Howl!!"

"Howl!! Howl!!"

The chilling cries of the wolves echoed once more, carried by the cold, ominous wind.

At the command of the cruel overseers, the ten hungry Fang Wolves lunged at the defenseless children. Screams of terror and howls of the wolves intertwined, creating a cacophony of despair.

The once orderly formation disintegrated into chaos. Children on the outskirts desperately pushed toward the center, hoping to avoid being the first to fall to the wolves' fangs. But the space was limited, and no matter how they shoved and pulled, a few of the weaker ones were inevitably forced to the edges.

"Ahhh!!"

A piercing scream erupted as a pale-skinned boy's arm was torn off by a larger Fang Wolf. The tender limb dangled from the wolf's fangs, crimson blood dripping horrifically from its lips.

"Ahhh!!"

"Ahhh!!"

More agonized cries followed. In another direction, several boys fell prey to the wolves' claws. The razor-sharp talons effortlessly tore through the children's soft skin, exposing bone beneath.

The Fang Wolves' most lethal weapons were their fangs and claws. These ivory-white claws mercilessly slashed across the children's faces, pierced their bodies, and even tore through their throats.

The vivid red blood pooled on the muddy ground, forming small streams that flowed silently.

The scene was one of utter devastation: the children's heart-wrenching screams, their bloodied bodies writhing in pain, their eyes filled with terror and despair, and the lifeless forms of the fallen—all painted a tragic picture.

In stark contrast, the overseers stood by, their faces cold and unfeeling, some even laughing with sadistic glee.

Kael's position in the center of the crowd initially shielded him from the wolves' first waves of attacks. But as the panicked children scrambled and pushed, he gradually became exposed.

Fortunately, there was a boy in front of him—Kael remembered his name was Ethan. Ethan seemed to be one of the most talented among the children sent to this Nightmare Island.

Kael knew this was a brutal place. Showing sympathy for others was tantamount to signing one's own death warrant, especially when one lacked strength. So, when the Fang Wolf lunged toward Ethan, Kael chose to turn a blind eye.

Ethan was slightly taller and more robust than Kael. Seeing the wolf charge at him, Ethan's face turned pale, and he instinctively stepped back.

Ethan's reflexes were decent, allowing him to narrowly dodge the wolf's initial attack. However, once the wolf adjusted, Ethan's chances of survival would dwindle.

It was then that Ethan noticed Kael beside him.

Seeing Kael, Ethan seemed to grasp at a lifeline. He lunged at Kael, using his stronger build to seize him and shove him toward the Fang Wolf.

Caught off guard, Kael's frail body was thrust directly into the path of the wolf's gleaming fangs.

The two sharp, ivory fangs, each at least twenty centimeters long, loomed before Kael's eyes. At this distance, he could even smell the wolf's foul breath.

The Fang Wolf's attack was indiscriminate slaughter. As Kael neared, the wolf opened its maw and aimed for his neck.

In that split second between life and death, Kael twisted his body with great effort, narrowly avoiding the fatal bite. Yet, he felt a cold sting on his neck—the wolf's fang had grazed him.

After twisting away, Kael rolled on the ground, putting three or four meters between himself and the wolf.

"Thud, thud."

The sound of footsteps behind him signaled the wolf's pursuit. Panic surged in Kael's heart, but he forced himself to stay calm.

Kael remembered the Fang Wolf's abilities. If he wasn't mistaken, the wolf would likely use Savage Claw Assault—a series of rapid claw strikes that could easily kill even an adult.

Clenching his teeth, Kael predicted the wolf's move. He immediately crouched and curled into a ball.

While lying flat might have avoided the attack, Kael knew that doing so would leave him vulnerable to being pinned down, sealing his fate. Curling up, however, maximized the protection of his vital areas, allowing him to flee during the wolf's brief pause.

Sure enough, the pursuing Fang Wolf extended its claws and unleashed Savage Claw Assault as it closed in. Four consecutive slashes gleamed with deadly precision.

"Swish! Swish! Swish!" Three of the strikes missed as Kael crouched low.

"Rip!" The fourth claw tore into Kael's back, leaving a deep, bloody gash.

Kael gasped, the searing pain in his back feeling like a burning flame. The claw had ripped through his flesh, and blood streamed down his back.

Gritting his teeth, Kael sprang up the moment the wolf's attack ended. He bolted toward an area free of wolves, his blood splattering on the ground with each frantic step.

Kael's face was pale, his expression strained, yet it radiated a fragile determination and resilience. For a fifteen-year-old boy, this expression signified more than mere courage and fortitude—it was the primal instinct to survive, a desperate will to live against all odds.