Wolf Pack

Eight mana for a 7/6 buys a body that trades into removal and dies to two blockers, but the damage-assignment clause is what the cost is really paying for. This is not trample. A true trampler runs its excess through the blocker's toughness and assigns the remainder to the player; this Wolf skips the arithmetic entirely, treating the block as though it never happened and dropping all seven onto the defending player regardless of what stands in the way. The blockers themselves take nothing: they survive, they just fail to matter. That distinction is the whole point. Chump-blocking does not even buy the usual concession, because the wall absorbs zero damage; gang-blocking still deals damage back and can kill the Wolf, but it cannot stop a single point from reaching the player. It is a blunt, literal expression of an old green design instinct, the urge to make a big creature unstoppable, rendered as the simplest possible rules text rather than as a keyword with built-in math. The seven power is large enough that connecting once threatens a real chunk of a life total, and the eight-mana price is the cost discipline that keeps the package fair: it arrives slowly enough that a defender who cannot block their way out has had several turns to find an answer that does not involve combat. What you buy here is not the stats but the certainty that combat math will never be the thing that saves your opponent.