Unlike the others, it didn't struggle against the height—it soared, using a burst of flame beneath its paws to launch itself straight toward James' perch.
James barely had time to react. A split-second decision.
He let go of the branch, dropping down toward the pack below—straight into the chaos.
The wolves snarled, surprised for only a fraction of a second. James landed hard, rolling, already inscribing a rune onto his next arrow.
James hit the ground hard, his injured limbs screaming in protest.
The wolves surged toward him, their fiery eyes flashing as they closed in from all sides.
His bow snapped up in an instant, as he fired another arrow meant to knock back anything caught in its wake.
He fired.
The projectile slammed into the earth, erupting in a concussive burst. A shockwave rippled outward, sending two of the nearest wolves stumbling backward, their snarls turning into startled yelps.
But the rest weren't deterred.
James twisted, ducking beneath a lunging strike, spinning away from snapping jaws just as another wolf rushed in from his flank. He sidestepped, letting it overextend, then fired point-blank—the arrow embedding deep into its shoulder.
A roaring blaze erupted from above as the Crimson Fang King dropped from the tree, its massive form crashing down mere feet from James.
The force of its landing sent a fiery tremor through the ground, making James instinctively leap back, distancing himself before the wolf could strike.
James barely had time to recover before the Crimson Fang King let loose a thunderous howl that shook the air around them. The remaining wolves, emboldened by their leader's presence, surged forward with renewed aggression.
James tightened his grip on his bow, his breath steady despite the chaos. He had fought creatures before, but none like this—none that radiated such raw, elemental fury. The Crimson Fang King's eyes gleamed with an intelligence that sent a chill through him. This wasn't just a beast. It was a force.
The massive wolf lunged, flames licking at its fur as it closed the distance with terrifying speed. James rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding its crushing claws. He fired off another explosive arrow, aiming for the soft earth beneath the beast, hoping to destabilize it.
The ground erupted once more, sending chunks of rock and fire skyward. The King skidded, momentarily thrown off balance—but only for a second. It whipped around with unnatural agility, locking eyes with James, a slow, predatory grin stretching across its muzzle.
James broke through the encirclement and darted toward the dense forest, weaving through the undergrowth with practiced agility. The Crimson Fang King let out a guttural growl before giving chase, its fiery aura illuminating the trees in its wake.
He knew he couldn't overpower it in open terrain—the beast was too fast, too strong. But in the tangled mess of the forest, where every movement could be hindered by thick roots and sprawling branches, he had the advantage.
The trees grew tighter as James plunged deeper into the heart of the wilderness. Here, the air was damp, the ground uneven. Visibility was cut down significantly, and the heat from the King's flames struggled against the moisture hanging in the air.
James slid behind a thick trunk, steadying his breath, listening.
A low snarl echoed through the trees. The beast slowed, wary now. The flickering embers across its body guttered slightly, as if unsure how to navigate the confined space.
Good.
James knocked another arrow, calculating his next move. If he could lure the King into the tightest part of the forest, force it to stumble or get tangled, he could turn this fight in his favor.
The wolf stepped forward, its molten eyes scanning the shadows, searching for him. James remained still, waiting for the perfect moment.
Then, with calculated precision, he loosed his arrow.
James exhaled sharply, tightening his grip on his bow. He would end this fight here, in the heart of the forest, where the beast's size and power were its greatest weaknesses.
The Crimson Fang King prowled through the trees, its massive form forced to maneuver carefully in the tangled terrain. Fire licked across its body, casting eerie shadows that danced along the damp bark. It
James moved swiftly, stepping into view, forcing the King's attention onto him.
The wolf snarled, lunging forward with a sudden burst of speed. James dodged the flaming claws, feeling the heat singe the air around him. He loosed an arrow mid-roll—striking the King in the chest. It howled, more enraged than injured.
James adjusted his stance, preparing for the next assault.
The King came again, claws sweeping in a wide arc, tearing through branches as if they were paper. James twisted, using the trees to his advantage, keeping his movements unpredictable. He fired another arrow—this one aimed at the beast's hind leg. It struck home, forcing the King to stagger.
A weakness.
James pressed forward. He closed the distance, slamming his boot against a fallen log to propel himself upward. He drew a final arrow—a specialized one, crackling with energy—and fired point-blank into the King's chest.
The explosion rocked the forest.
Branches snapped. Flames roared. The King reeled back, its molten eyes flickering as it let out a deafening snarl. The impact had done more than wound—it had destabilized the energy burning within the beast.
It faltered.
The Crimson Fang King let out a deafening roar, its molten eyes flickering with unrestrained fury. James barely had time to react before the beast lunged—one final, desperate strike meant to end the battle in its favor.
It moved faster than before, abandoning caution. Flames ignited wildly along its body, scorching the ground beneath it as it closed the gap. James tried to sidestep, but the King anticipated, twisting mid-lunge and slamming into him with the full force of its massive frame.
James was sent hurtling through the air. He crashed against the unforgiving earth, pain exploding through his body as he tumbled, his bow slipping from his grasp. His vision blurred for a moment, the impact rattling his bones.
Then—searing pain.
The King was on him, claws raking across his torso. Heat surged through the wound, the fire biting into his flesh, burning deep. He barely suppressed a scream as he rolled away, clutching his side, feeling the warmth of blood spilling between his fingers.
Every movement sent white-hot agony through his limbs, but he refused to falter. He forced himself upright, staggering, his breath uneven. The King circled him now, watching, waiting to see if he would fall.
But James wasn't done yet.
His fingers found another arrow, though his grip trembled. His body screamed for rest, for relief—but there was none. Only this fight. Only survival.
The King lowered its stance, readying itself for the final charge.
James steadied his aim, ignoring the pain, pushing past the exhaustion.
This wasn't over.
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