Chapter 072: The Limits of Rescue

"Wood Barrel, you said there were how many wolves again?" Luo Chong asked as they stood inside the cave.

"Seventy-eight," Wood Barrel replied confidently.

"That's not right; there should be over a hundred in total. We have seventy-eight here, and we didn't find more than ten on our way. Where are the others?" Luo Chong's brows furrowed in confusion.

Just then, a mournful animal cry echoed from the western direction of the cave, startling everyone.

"Everyone, on guard! Secure the entrance. I'll go check it out." After ensuring his people were positioned defensively at the cave's mouth, Luo Chong grabbed his bow and spear and stealthily moved toward the source of the noise.

Approximately a kilometer west of the cave, on a sunlit slope, he discovered the remainder of the wolf pack—27 survivors from an apparent split due to internal strife. Such divisions were common in large, temporary wolf coalitions if the alpha failed to provide adequately, leading to infighting and splintering of the group.

The wolves were attacking a Thunderbeast, a relative of the woolly rhinoceros and a prehistoric cousin of modern rhinos. This beast was armored with a thick, grey hide and stood over three meters tall, bearing a massive T-shaped horn unlike the pointed ones of other rhinos, giving it the nickname "battering ram."

The Thunderbeast was desperately defending itself against the wolves, protecting its vulnerable underbelly and leg pits, its usual tough skin offering little defense against the coordinated attack. Despite its efforts, it was clear that the beast was severely weakened and struggled to fend off the attackers.

As Luo Chong watched, the Thunderbeast, realizing its impending fate, seemed to resign itself to its end—until it caught sight of Luo Chong hiding behind some bushes. Its dying eyes flashed a complex look of pleading, not just a desire to survive but seemingly a plea for something more significant.

Noticing the Thunderbeast's gaze, Luo Chong hesitated, sensing it was seeking help not for itself but perhaps on behalf of another. As the beast made eye contact again, emitting a sorrowful bellow, the wolves noticed Luo Chong too. Two immediately snarled in his direction, as if warning him not to interfere.

Now revealed, Luo Chong had no choice but to act. He swiftly took down the two sentry wolves with precise shots. The sudden deaths reminded the rest of the pack of their previous losses to such weapons, causing a momentary panic.

As they realized they outnumbered their human adversary, the wolves regrouped and charged at Luo Chong. In mere seconds, as the pack closed in, Luo Chong fired four arrows, felling another two wolves before they reached him.

In a frantic move, he threw his bow and rolled on the ground, grabbing his spear for a close combat. Armed with the spear, he felt his confidence surge. With expert moves honed by years of training in his past life, Luo Chong whirled the spear around—thrusting, slashing, and sweeping—at the encircling wolves.

Fighting his way towards the Thunderbeast, Luo Chong used every bit of his martial prowess to fend off the wolves, carving a bloody path through the pack. Despite his efforts, he sustained several injuries, his cloak torn and bloodied.

Reaching the Thunderbeast's side, he saw it was using its massive body to shield his back, too weak to fight but still trying to protect him. Together, they faced the remaining wolves, Luo Chong's spear flashing in the cold air.

After a fierce five-minute struggle, only six wolves remained, with two crippled by his spear. The remaining wolves, now terrified and leaderless, fled in panic.

Luo Chong, driven by adrenaline and anger, hurled his spear with deadly accuracy, impaling a fleeing wolf. He quickly resumed with his bow, taking down two more stragglers.

Just as he prepared to chase the last survivors, a weak roar from the Thunderbeast stopped him. He turned to see the beast collapsing, its energy spent, its eyes still holding that pleading look, begging not just for its life but for something more—something Luo Chong had yet to understand.