Druid in the Marvel Universe Chapter 49: Druid Assault

It was eight in the morning, and Stark had chosen a very appropriate time because, at this hour, all the terrorists were having breakfast.

They would gather together, celebrating with a simple breakfast that they had survived another day.

The weather was fine today. An old man and a young man, two terrorists, sat together, holding a piece of rough bread and a bowl of suspicious-looking oil tea, eating and chatting.

The young man tightened his somewhat loose gun strap, looked at his breakfast, and complained, "Old Ali, how long do we have to stay in this godforsaken place? I've lost some weight over the past two months."

Old Ali, with a half-toothed grin, looked at the nineteen-year-old who had been fighting for six years and said, "What's the matter, missing your bride, Rad? I think we should be able to go back soon. The guy locked in the cave is almost done making what our leader wants. Once the leader sells that thing for big money, we can go home. Maybe you'll even get enough money to find another wife."

He looked at Rad with disdain and said, "Look at you, like a rutting ram. I have four wives waiting for me at home, am I in a hurry?"

Rad waved his hands anxiously; he couldn't let others think he was missing women, as it would make him a laughingstock. He said urgently, "I just think it's too boring staying here. I'd rather go out and fight the Americans; at least we could get some decent loot. But here, we're just waiting for that American in the cave to make something, and we don't need so many people."

Old Ali tore off a piece of bread with difficulty, took a sip of oil tea, and said to Rad, "Kid, don't always think about fighting. You're lucky to be alive today. I just want to live honestly, make some money, and raise my kids. Don't listen to those guys in white robes talking nonsense about fighting the Americans to the death. Their kids are already in other countries. They're just counting on fools like you to risk your lives."

Rad looked at Old Ali defiantly and said, "Then why are you still here? You could go home and take care of your wife and kids."

Old Ali shook his head and said, "I don't know what to do if I go back. We have nothing. I only know how to fight. I just hope that before I die, I can save enough money to send my son to Saudi Arabia or Qatar, places that are like paradise."

Rad struggled to tear the bread in his hand and said, "I always feel that the leader has been tricked by that American. He might not be making any missiles at all but is just stalling for time."

Old Ali laughed and said, "That makes no sense; no outsider can find this place!" As he finished speaking, he saw Rad's horrified expression. Following his gaze, Old Ali saw a scene he would never forget.

A man, riding a giant crimson wolf, charged down from a hill, holding an old Winchester lever-action rifle.

Five black giant wolves, their bodies flickering in and out of sight, ran ahead of him. A sentry post covered with camouflage netting, with four sentries inside, didn't even have time to raise their guns before the five giant wolves, as if released from hell, tore them to pieces with their claws.

The quick-reacting black leader shouted to his men to fight back. He himself, along with a few subordinates, ran towards the cave, intending to kill the hostages inside.

The terrorists who were having breakfast dropped their food and grabbed their AK-47s to shoot at the charging giant wolves.

Three thick vines burst out from the ground. A green vine slithered through the crowd, whipping around. Every terrorist it touched clutched their throat, their faces turning blue as they fell poisoned. The venomous vine was like a biochemical weapon, bringing death wherever it went.

The red vine was even more disgusting. Its head was a barrel-shaped mouth full of sharp teeth. Swinging its body, which was over fifty centimeters in diameter, it swept through the camp's mess hall, sending terrorists flying and then chasing them down, opening its terrifying mouth to swallow the unlucky ones whole.

The golden vine was more refined, shrinking its body to the thickness of a finger and shooting through a group of terrorists like an arrow. The bodies of those pierced by the vine shriveled at a visible rate, as if their moisture was being evaporated.

The terrorists' courage vanished under such terrifying attacks. Screaming, they dropped everything and began to flee.

The five ghost wolves wouldn't miss this opportunity. Their bodies flickered and appeared among the crowd.

Wherever their nearly half-foot-long claws went, limbs and body parts were scattered everywhere, leaving no terrorist with an intact body.

The usually harmless-looking ghost wolves finally showed their terrifying lethality. Able to move between the void and reality, the ghost wolves seemed to teleport, always appearing behind a terrorist and tearing them to pieces.

Only Alvin had yet to make any significant contributions. With his mediocre marksmanship, Alvin, riding a wolf nearly six feet tall at the shoulder, charged into the terrorist camp like a warrior. He fired two shots but missed every target. Shooting while riding a wolf was a skill Alvin had yet to master.

This left Alvin, who fancied himself as a "Wild West Outlaw," disappointed in his combat coordination. Why couldn't his fighting style change? He always ended up like a mob enforcer, hacking and shooting, which wasn't the image he wanted.

Jumping off the wolf's back, letting it fight on its own, Alvin stood at the edge of the camp, holding his Winchester and looking for a target to shoot.

Hmm... ensuring he didn't hit his summoned creatures, Alvin could hardly find a target. This was the downside of poor marksmanship; in chaotic situations, it was easy to hit your own people.

This also indirectly showed how fierce the vines and ghost wolves were.

The massacre didn't last long. Intense gunfire erupted from the cave. A tall figure, holding a giant shield, charged out of the cave. Several terrorists blocking the way were sent flying, torn apart like small animals hit by a speeding car.

By now, there weren't many terrorists left. Alvin recalled the vines, leaving only the five ghost wolves to continue hunting down the few remaining survivors.

Rad was one of them. Just moments ago, he watched Old Ali get grabbed by the neck by a ghost wolf, flung into the air, and then torn to pieces by another wolf's claws.

Having fought since childhood, Rad's eyes turned red. He rushed to an old machine gun, pulled the bolt, and started shooting wildly at the demons on the field. There was no need to worry about comrades; they were all dead or dying.

The 12.7mm bullets formed a barrage, sweeping across the entire camp.

The tall wolf had no use now. It stood in front of Alvin, blocking the bullets that could tear through ordinary armored vehicles. The bullets hit the wolf like stones hitting a car tire, slightly denting and then bouncing off.

The newly born Iron Man, seeing the situation, operated his crude exoskeleton armor, holding a giant shield, and charged heroically at Rad.

Rad noticed Stark's intention, turned the gun, and sprayed the last few dozen bullets at Stark. Then he was heroically smashed to pieces by Stark's armor, along with the machine gun position.