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... e of that black wolf. When I threw about half a dozen of daggers, the black wolf immediately avoided them and pounced towards us.

I knew that the wolf was fast but this was a bit too fast for my liking. I knew that it would have annoying fighting style but I had to fight it in close combat in order to get its attention on me. This way Shelly would have more freedom finding a chance and attacking unexpectedly.

I took out two daggers and engaged the wolf with my attacks. The wolf evade ...

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In novels with a stud there is always a Senior Martial Brother like this:

In the early stages of the novel, his innate talent is high, his cultivation is good, his appearance is handsome, and he has an intelligent, cute younger Martial Sister as a fiancée.

In the middle stages of the novel, he is caught unprepared and defeated by a young disciple (the protagonist) in the sect who’s hardly remarkable at all. From then on, he falls from his godly altar and loses his brilliance. Even his young Martial Sister leaves him for someone else.

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Humanity faces an unprecedented crisis.

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Harrison Blackwell, having survived the apocalyptic world for twenty years, finds himself reborn twenty years earlier, a day before the descent of the Red Mist.

Armed with experiences and intelligence from his past life, Harrison, given another chance at life, vows to take destiny into his own hands.

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[God of Infinity Spell (SSS-level)]: No casting time is required for all your skills, no cooldown period, and no mana is consumed! The casting cost for forbidden spells is reduced by 99%!

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[Supreme Summoning (SSS-level)]: Any creature or magical being you summon will be the mightiest of its kind!

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He stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound.

“Wh-who are you?” Elia stammered, backing away, her hands up. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn’t stop until he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air.

“I am the Leonine King.” His voice was a dark, husky gravel. Behind him a chorus of wheezes, howls, and chirps of agreement rose from the people watching. “And you are?”

“Elia,” she breathed.

“Elia,” he growled, leaning in closer, bringing with him the scent of pine and rain and the musk of something distinctly male. “I am Reth.” He said the name with a strange, guttural roll in his throat. “I am King of Beasts. I am Clan Leader, and I am Alpha of WildWood.” Several snarls rose from the crowds behind him then, but he ignored them.

Elia swallowed as he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek. “I am the King,” he said, “And you will be my mate.”

The forest behind him erupted.