Page 298

He lived to the age of 183.

The orc territories, home to millions of mourners, were filled with sorrow.

The following spring, the third orc to achieve the rank of Sword Saint was born—Katherine Storm Rein, known as the "Warrior of the Holy War."

The next year, in the War God Calendar year 1404, during the Amber Fire Month, the Holy City saw Orc King Samanda successfully retain his position as Orc King without any opposition.

Meanwhile, in places unknown to most, young heroes were gradually rising.

*The End of Wolfman Chen Xuanfeng's Howl of the Werewolf Scroll*

Prologue to the Hero of the Werewolf Scroll

1. Death God

The Blue Spirit Sea, a famous body of water in the western part of the Xinghai Continent, connected the Flower Plain of the Orc Alliance and the human world's Viking Empire.

In ancient elven poems, the summer Blue Spirit Sea was often likened to "the spring emotions of a spoiled maiden." Of course, when it came to the elves' aesthetic art preferences, most other sentient beings in the world kept their distance. However, no one disputed the unpredictable nature of the sea's weather.

On the calm sea surface at dusk, the setting sun painted half of the sky and sea red. No one would have guessed that just half an hour earlier, a fierce storm had raged through the area. Now, in the fresh sea breeze, a massive ship, stretching dozens of meters, cut through the sea, sailing quietly from south to north. The old but not decrepit hull bore the name "Lady Cant" in large letters.

Exhausted, Zaikan sat at the bow of the "Lady Cant," combing his thinning white hair. Though the storm had been minor, it had left the helmsman fatigued. According to his experience, a more violent storm was coming soon, and his rest time was running out.

In his youth, Zaikan had been an excellent sailor, and now he was an outstanding old captain. He had even served in the navy of the Viking Empire and fought against the North Sea Fleet of the Orc Alliance. However, it was during that time that human civilization was utterly defeated by the orcs, and the entire Viking Empire was uprooted. Zaikan became a prisoner of the orcs and, due to his expertise in navigation, was incorporated into the orc navy's transport division, responsible for shipping various supplies between the Lion Tribe's Flower Plain and the former Viking Empire.

"Captain, we had no loss of personnel or supplies during the storm, just two planks were leaking, but they've been fixed," a young voice said from behind. It was the first mate, Harvey.

"Good, make sure everyone stays alert; another storm is coming..." As the old captain turned around, having to look up from his crouched position, his gaze passed over the first mate's shoulder and landed on the ship's mainmast. He saw something eerie and was momentarily speechless.

"Captain, captain, are you alright?" Thinking the old captain was trying to stand up, the first mate rushed to help, given that Zaikan's legs had long lost their agility. If not for the orcs' forced conscription, he wouldn't have been at sea.

However, as the first mate's hand touched the old captain's arm, a bone-chilling coldness surged through his palm, causing him to let go. With a thud, the old captain fell backward, his face gray and devoid of life.

"Ah!!!" Startled by the sudden death of the old man, the young first mate screamed, drawing the attention of the nearby sailors. Soon, more gathered around. Then, several tall figures in black cloaks, their faces hidden, emerged from the cabin, dispersed the onlookers, and examined the body.

"Sir, this is..." A black-cloaked figure with a heavy northern orc accent spoke, but like the old captain, as he turned his head and his gaze passed the mast, he suddenly died in a bizarre manner.

"Who is it?" Unlike the inexperienced first mate, the black-cloaked figures were battle-hardened warriors. Upon their comrade's death, they immediately turned to the mast.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" Unlike the previous silent deaths, three of the figures who turned back were accomplished martial artists. As they resisted the attack, their heads exploded and they died.

The blood that spattered across the deck was an eerie, icy blue, with fragments of frost mixed in. Within moments, over a dozen sailors and several black-cloaked figures collapsed to the deck. On the empty deck stood a tall, imposing black-cloaked figure, looking up at the death-bringing mast without any harm.

A dual-colored light curtain enveloped the black-cloaked figure, with a thick dark red inside and a sinister blue light flickering on the outside, emitting faint, chilling wails, attempting to penetrate the dark red light and invade the figure's body.

Ignoring the anomaly before him, the remaining black-cloaked figure lifted his hand to reveal his face from under the cloak's hood. A rough, fierce visage that was absolutely not found among humans. Anyone could tell from his features that he was a member of the orc Bear Tribe. At the same time, the moonlight-like dark red battle aura proved that he was indeed a top Bear Tribe Sword Master.

A top Bear Tribe Sword Master could almost rival a human Sword Empress. However, at this moment, his expression revealed extreme tension and caution.

"Bear Tribe Sword Master, General Dao Lei?" A young, cold voice called from the top of the mast. Standing in the fading light of the sunset was a teenage human, dressed in black and silver robes of a dark priest. His flaxen hair was bound into a long braid, and his green eyes, gleaming with a cold light, locked onto the bear-man standing on the deck.

"Indeed, it is this general. You are the infamous ghost assassin I've heard of? They say you've assassinated over a dozen generals and officials. I didn't expect you to pursue me at sea. However, do you really think your assassination tricks can match up to a Bear Tribe Sword Master in a straight fight?" Bear-man Dao Lei spoke, secretly gathering his battle aura. Although he spoke lightly, he had already realized the opponent's strength during their initial clash. The teenager possessed at least the strength of a human Sword Empress, meaning his power far exceeded that of Dao Lei, an eighth-level Sword Master. Thus, he dared not underestimate the enemy. His only chance of survival lay in his formidable orc physique. To survive, he needed to provoke the assassin into a close-quarters fight, where he could trade injuries for a chance at survival.