The dragon breath enveloped him completely, searing his soul and flesh, while layers of ice crystals formed around him in an attempt to freeze his form.
The werewolf leader struggled to withstand Arthur's assault with his high attributes.
Suddenly, a black fireball struck from the side.
It was the sixth.
The werewolf leader realized too late to evade as the fireball impacted his right arm.
Both the black flames and Arthur's ethereal dragon breath inflicted dual damage to body and soul.
The black flames ignited upon the werewolf leader.
While Arthur's dragon breath could still be mitigated by his healing abilities.
However, the black flames unleashed by the sixth proved entirely ineffective against his regenerative powers.
At this moment, the flesh of the werewolf leader's right arm had completely vanished, revealing the stark whiteness of bone beneath.
Confronted by the dual soul attack from Arthur and by you, the werewolf leader could no longer withstand the assault and was instantly frozen into an ice sculpture by Arthur's dragon breath while black flames continued to burn fiercely.
Its soul was utterly extinguished.
Had it possessed the ability to speak by you surmised it would have undoubtedly shouted a classic phrase at her.
You old trickster, I curse you.
You have successfully slain a level 9 Howling moon werewolf and gained 240 experience points.
Double experience.
Ah, is that my trophy? It seems the werewolf's true demise was sealed by byu's black flame projectile which incinerated its very soul.
The werewolf's corpse collapsed to the ground and by you having shattered her previous limitations was on the brink of leveling up again.
There's a saying that goes life is akin to when resistance is feudal.
One might as well relish the experience.
Meanwhile, the other undead were still engaged in combat with the remaining werewolves, leaving only Arthur beside Bayou, who gazed at her in bewilderment.
Returning to the matter at hand, this was Bayou's first occasion using the black flame projectile on a living being, excluding the tree.
Of course, she was astonished by its relentless burning, as it seemed incapable of being extinguished.
Now sitting upright from the ground, her clothing was somewhat soiled and disheveled.
She brushed the dirt off her backside.
Goodness my flesh.
Bayou suddenly realized that this dark magic would leave no corpse behind, prompting her to swiftly prevent the black flames from consuming the werewolf leader's body any further.
In comparison to the loss of a mere chunk of flesh, she was far more pleased to gain a level ninebone beast werewolf, a pinnacle force under her command, which was quite splendid.
With the demise of the werewolf leader, the remaining werewolves were essentially easy prey, especially with Arthur's assistance.
Arthur was indeed formidable.
Otherwise, given the capabilities of Bayou's other undead, it would have been uncertain whether they could have defeated this level 9 werewolf.
Bayou once more employed the magic of her left to transform this werewolf into a bone beast.
Currently, only she possessed the ability to execute such a transformation, while the scythe could not.
A level 9 bone beast werewolf surely appeared to be superior to a level 9 skeletal warrior.
Bone beast werewolf growth limit king level by you spat blood in frustration.
The nocturnal double attribute enhancement had dissipated.
Nevertheless, this was still quite impressive, only slightly weaker than Arthur.
The corpses of the werewolves would be efficiently managed by her undead minions.
At this moment, Bayou was eager to return to the castle to change her soil attire.
The werewolf leader had been slain beyond the castle walls under the cover of night, benefiting from the double experience bonus and an additional one.
Five times from the throne of wither bones.
Bayou calculated with her nimble fingers.
Ah, I lost 120 experience points.
No, it's worse.
I lost it all.
Not accounting for the other we wolves.
Bayou glanced back at the battlefield where seven or eight werewolves still clung to life.
She hurried back to the castle, intent on recovering some of the lost experience.
Turning to enter the castle, she made her way to the bathroom, kicking off her shoes with abandon.
She yanked her hair tie off, tossing her head back, allowing her silvery hair to cascade freely around her.
In my previous life, I encountered countless moments of social embarrassment and awkwardness.
Yet, none could compare to the myriad experiences I've endured in just a few days on this enchanting continent.
Bayou finds herself in a state of despair, wishing to weep without tears.
Perhaps a bath would provide some solace.
The humiliation is simply unbearable.
Chapter 31.
Bountiful harvest.
Fortunately, my troops are undead.
If they were any other intelligent race, this would be no different from defecating in public.
After her bath, Bayou casually slipped into a white dress, going commando since she planned to sleep soon anyway.
No point changing.
The moment she stepped out of her bedroom, a chilly draft brushed against her legs, prompting her to clutch her skirt in alarm.
Phew, just her imagination.
For a second, she thought her skirt had flown up.
No big deal, then.
She could manage.
But why did she feel a faint twinge of shame? Only 3 days had passed.
Yet, being cooped up in the castle for that long had nearly driven her mad.
Reminiscent of those quarantine days during the flu pandemic in her past life.
The worst part, no internet.
The world was vast and Bulu long to explore it.
Yet her current strength was pitiful.
She had barely taken a few steps beyond the castle gates before nearly meeting her end at the claws of a werewolf.
She had considered riding Arthur for an aerial tour, but one attempt was enough to dissuade her.
Arthur was a skeletal dragon devoid of flesh, leaving no place to perch.
The romanticized image from novels where protagonists stood a top dragons like seasoned tamers, exuding an air of untouchable mastery.
Utter nonsense.
The moment Arthur took flight by nearly tumbled off, a creature composed entirely of bones offered zero riding comfort.
Absolutely no thrill in the experience.
According to her past life web novel knowledge, once she leveled up sufficiently, flight should become possible.
Surely even divine tier beings wouldn't t be grounded.
That DB be downright pathetic, right? Tomach check her stats.
Lord Bayou.
Aside from the usual stat boosts, nothing noteworthy.
Yet Bayou clung to hope, yearning for something extraordinary with each level up.
The system awarded experience for killing monsters, but lacked an experience bar.
Ridiculous.
She never knew when she'd deleared, almost max level now.
The anticipation was exhilarating.
She prayed for a unique breakthrough this time.
Haha.
Bayou giggled foolishly, a trickle of drool escaping her lips.
Her undead legion had hauled all the werewolf carcasses into the castle.
Using magic, Bayou transformed them into bone beasts.
Directly tossing them into the dark altar would v randomize their reanimation into other undead.
Next, she ordered the bone beasts into the dark altar.
She had discovered that bone beasts were essentially a variant of skeletons, sharing the same enhancement mechanics, fixed skeletal reinforcement.
How uninspired.
Still, adding over 30 level five bone beast werewolves bolstered her undead army significantly.
The alpha werewolf s enhancements mirrored its pack s.