The Informal Tomb Raiding Diary: She is the occupant of the tomb! Chapter 405 - 312: Wolves (Part 3)

The houses here have walls intricately carved with delicate patterns or designs. They might have been painted in colorful hues, but they have faded drastically now, barely revealing any color.

Even without the paint, the patterns and designs remain beautiful. The steps at the front of the house are adorned with ticulous stone sculptures on either side, depicting animals, plants, clouds, and the moon.

Living in such a refined ho suggests the owner is not necessarily a wealthy magnate but at least belongs to a well-off family.

The alpha wolf ran to a small square, and I glanced around. This place seed to have been a comrcial plaza, with houses around it that still had signs, clearly indicating they were shops.

The shops looked like they seldom had wolves coming in and out; the windows and doors were covered with thick dust, and there were no wolf paw prints on it.

Is this an attempt to train alone with ?

At that mont, the alpha wolf stopped, stood in the center of the plaza, turned around, and faced .

Chasing it earlier, I was getting closer, and it felt more peculiar because though it ran on all fours, its posture differed from other wolves. How to put it, more akin to a gorilla’s running style.

Now it’s facing straight on, and as it stood up from the ground, I realized that it indeed differed from other wolves because its physique had a human outline.

Though its forelimbs were longer than a human’s, it still differed from wolves that walk on all fours.

Yet its head was a wolf’s head and it was covered all over with long fur, also notably, it only had one head.

"Oh, a Werewolf." I’ve only seen them in movies, never thought such creatures existed.

However, pollution has already leaked in this area, it’s uncertain if it’s truly a primal Werewolf.

"Who are you?" The Werewolf opened his mouth, emitting a deep, human voice from its pointed long mouth.

As it spoke, I was particularly concerned it might bite its own tongue with those teeth.

"I’m here to find soone, asking you about soone." Facing this alien creature, I was neither curious nor afraid, and definitely not interested—just get to the point without fuss.

"Who?"

"Miss Tang, know her? Been here roughly half a month ago."

"She..." The Werewolf’s tone paused, "over there."

It pointed its hand towards the city center direction, its long claws resembled those of a pangolin; a swipe would probably disembowel an ordinary person.

"OK," I hadn’t finished speaking when nurous black hands suddenly erged from the ground. This plaza was rely land, with so decorative stone sculptures. It might have been a small garden, but now all the plants are rotten, leaving just flat ground.

The black hands reaching out from the soil looked exactly like the ones grabbing Mike’s feet. They erged from the ground, flailing around like wriggling worms.

Two hands appeared by my feet, one left, one right, attempting to grab, but it seed as if they were hitting a supernatural wall, always switching direction just when about to touch my feet, grabbing towards elsewhere.

Upon seeing this, the Werewolf’s eyes slightly widened, presumably never encountering such a scenario.

Did it lure here to try having the black hands drag underground?

"Are you... a descendent of the Ancient City’s original inhabitants?" The Werewolf’s voice was low and hoarse, tinged with a bit of surprise and disbelief.

From the words ’Ancient City,’ you could hear it wasn’t a native here either.

"No." I stepped on the black hands moving towards it.

"Hah..." The Werewolf let out a low growl, slightly crouched lower, revealed a mouthful of sharp teeth, making a threatening gesture.

"Co on, you chose this place suitable for a duel."

"Go to hell!"

eting here, no need for recognition, just get it done and over with.

I drew the Hook Stick holstered behind my waist, saving the Karmic Fire for later; we’ve just reached the city outskirts, and it might get more perilous closer to city center. Best to keep the big moves reserved.

The Werewolf exerted strength on its legs; they were all muscular, exploding with astounding agility. Nearly two ters tall, it could jump up to three ters in height, dropping like a massive airborne projectile, swinging its claws aiming for my head.

Stabbing from below upwards is actually quite awkward, unpleasant to perform. Hence, I couldn’t allow it to hit .

Therefore, I aid at its position, delivering a swirling upward kick precisely landing on its hind leg.

This kick felt like hitting an iron plate; if I were any more fragile, kicking it would have fractured my leg.

Fortunately, head-on confrontation—I, the mighty king, have never feared anyone. Although it didn’t cripple by my kick, its descending trajectory changed, relocating its position.

It swung its claws, wanting to scratch twice as much as possible. It succeeded, two longest claws scratched across my back with a tearing sound, ripping my clothes.

It landed on the ground, rolled twice, and got back up. I reached back, touching my back, the clothes neatly torn into two long slits.

"I don’t like backless outfits, you’re dead." I utterly detest others ruining my clothes!