After a long, tense march through the drenched woods, Kaelor finally crouched low at the edge of the Oasis Basin. Rain still fell in a steady drizzle, pattering on leaves and metal. He moved slowly, brushing aside the last line of shrubs, inch by inch, careful not to snap a twig or rustle too loudly.
He squinted through the leaves, breath shallow, preparing to glimpse the enemy below.
"We killed ten," he whispered to Hound behind him. "There should be seventy mor—"
Kaelor froze mid-sentence.
His heart skipped a beat.
The basin beyond the shrubs stretched open like a hole in the forest, a place bustling with life. What met his eyes was not a lesser number, but more. Far more.
The wolves had multiplied.
And among them, lying regally beside the towering Wolf King, was a new presence, a massive white wolf, its fur gleaming even in the rain, its eyes closed as if in meditation or waiting.
Kaelor's jaw tightened, his breath caught. "They're over a hundred..." he murmured, his voice laced with disbelief and quiet fury. "We're going to face over a hundred wolves."
He turned to Hound, whose face had turned grim, hard lines cut deeper by the storm. The others crept to the edge, their eyes widening as they looked out over the basin.
The ground below was littered with carcasses, slaughtered beasts from the surrounding forest, some already bloated with rot, others freshly torn apart. The rain washed away the blood, but not the stench of death or the meaning behind it.
"They've destroyed everything," Jon growled behind them. His bloodshot eyes blazed with fury as they locked onto the wolf behind it all. "The entire forest around this basin is dead. They've hunted it clean. All that's left is us."
He turned to Kaelor. "And going northeast, northwest, or south means walking into even worse threats. Their next target is obviously the powerless humans north?" His voice dropped into a snarl. "We're just meat."
Then the Wolf King rose.
Kaelor's breath hitched again.
He had seen it before, glimpsed it from afar, but never like this.
Now, it stood tall in full majesty, towering over all the others. A monstrous beast of gray-black fur and steely muscle, 7 feet 5 inches tall at the shoulder, regal and terrifying. Even Hound, large as he was, would look small beside it.
With fluid, graceful steps, the Wolf King moved away from the white wolf. That one, almost as tall, about 6'5, larger than most known alphas, watched with unreadable eyes as its king approached the center of the basin.
Then the Wolf King lifted its massive head to the sky.
Awoo!
The howl thundered out like a command to the heavens.
Lightning forked through the sky in answer, followed by a booming thunderclap that shook the trees. The very basin seemed to tremble beneath the cry.
And then, the Wolf King turned its gaze directly toward them.
Kaelor frowned. It wasn't a guess. The beast saw them.
One by one, wolves across the basin rose to their feet, some emerging from trees and underbrush they had used for shelter, others stretching out from rest as if roused by command.
A hundred eyes turned to the forest.
Kaelor stood up sharply, his hand already on Ignis.
"We need to get back to the town, now!" he snapped, voice low but urgent.
He hadn't expected this. This level of intelligence. This foresight.
All along, they thought they were the ones watching, preparing, planning an ambush.
But the truth was cold and sharp as a blade: They were the ones under observation.
"By the time we reach the town, the sun will have set," Hound said grimly, Mountain Sabers drawn. "If we run, we might make it earlier, but we'll be too exhausted to fight."
The Guardsmen all drew their weapons, but the inferiority of the standard sabers was now painfully clear. Compared to the Mountain Sabers, broader, heavier, more suited for brutal combat, theirs looked pitiful.
Even so, weapons in hand, they all, Kaelor included, began to slowly back away from the basin.
It wouldn't matter if they were all seasoned Experts. Without proper full-plate armor, they would be torn apart the moment that pack descended on them.
One hundred and ten wolves.
Each the size of a grown man.
Even a disciplined army would falter against such numbers.
Kaelor's gaze darted around. He looked back repeatedly, assessing the terrain. The thick forest behind them offered no easy escape, just dense foliage, twisted roots, and wet earth. Running would force them to weave through tight passages and thickets.
But staying meant death.
Suddenly, symbols sparked into existence in the air around them.
Lines of glowing runes formed a horizontal circle encircling them. Another ring appeared vertically. Then a third, slanted, forming a rotating weave of magical script around their group. The circles spun, layers upon layers of energy converging at their center.
"What's happening?!" Hound shouted, eyes scanning the spinning glyphs.
Kaelor barely had time to respond.
Out of the woods sprinted a figure cloaked in gray, boots slamming into wet soil. As she neared, her hood slipped off, revealing a cascade of silver hair. She didn't stop until she crossed into the center of the runic vortex. Her palms glowed with intense light, feeding the spell.
The runes flared brighter, spinning faster.
And just as the wolves began to surge from the basin, fangs bared, paws pounding the soaked ground, The world distorted.
Space twisted around Kaelor. It was as if the entire forest had folded in on itself and in the blink of an eye, he was no longer standing at the basin.
He was at the town's gate.
Kaelor staggered forward, stunned. His heart hammered as he turned to confirm it, yes, the gate, the familiar wooden walls, the muddy path beneath him.
Teleportation!
He stood frozen for a moment, mind reeling. What if Earth had such power?
He shook himself free of the thought.
"The wolves are coming!" he bellowed to the stunned farmers in the rice fields nearby. "Everyone, get inside the walls!"
The moment they heard the word wolves, panic erupted. Farm tools were abandoned. Men, women, and children ran for the gates without a second glance.
"Jon!" Kaelor turned sharply. "Make sure everyone is in position, just like we prepared. Each person should have at least two javelins. Women and children inside, only able-bodied women stay to fight!"
Jon let out a low growl of understanding, then turned and sprinted toward the town, two Dreadclaws following close behind to help rally the defense.
"I'll scout," Hound said. Kaelor nodded wordlessly, and the warrior took off at once, vanishing up a nearby hill into the trees.
Kaelor finally turned his eyes to the others, stepping closer and asking quietly, "Where is Vi?"
The Guardsmen standing nearby glanced uneasily at one another.
"We didn't see her after we appeared here," one of them said.
Kaelor's jaw tightened. He turned toward the distant treeline, heart sinking with the possibility that Vi hadn't made it through.
But he didn't have the luxury of waiting.
"Secure the wall," he ordered, his voice flat, commanding.
Then he marched straight into town, heading toward the town head's house. As he reached the door, his eyes caught something in the mud.
Fresh footprints. Still wet.
Someone had just been here.
"Vi?" Kaelor called out, stepping through the doorway.
The door creaked open, and there she was.
Vi lay slumped on the floor, her silver hair spread across the wooden boards like spilled moonlight.
"Vi!" he rushed forward, dropping to one knee beside her. His eyes narrowed in concern as he gently touched her cheek. Her skin was cold, her breathing shallow.
Without hesitation, he slid his arms beneath her and lifted her into a princess carry, grunting under the strain.
'I'll have to strengthen myself through fusion,' he thought grimly. 'This body is still too weak.'
With steady, heavy steps, he carried her through the rain toward his residence.
The door swung open just as he approached. Mildred stood there, eyes wide. "My Lord! What happened to her?"
"She teleported us back," Kaelor said as he stepped past her, heading for one of the rooms. "We were almost overrun by the wolves."
He laid Vi carefully on a bed, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead.
Mildred gasped. "Teleportation? That's a high-tier spell. I've heard it drains an enormous amount of mana. Some Arcanists die from mana exhaustion trying to cast it."
Kaelor turned to face her. "Then do whatever you can. Make sure she doesn't die. I owe her, my life, and the lives of everyone in this town."
Mildred gave a small smile, her eyes softening. "It's nice to see you act responsibly."
Kaelor allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. "Stay with her. The wolves will be here soon."
With that, he turned and left, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. The air was heavier now, each step toward the coming battle weighted with purpose.
As he neared the town walls, Kaelor passed a large group of townsfolk gathered near the wall. Around a hundred stood ready, most of them men, though at least twenty women had joined them, each holding a long javelin crafted from the branches Vi had once uprooted. One end of each spear had been sharpened to a deadly point.
He nodded to them in approval. No words were exchanged, but their expressions showed they understood what was coming.
At the wall, Kaelor placed his palm against the rough wood and muttered a command.
At once, the earth outside the walls trembled.
With a deep rumble, thick roots burst from the ground in a line, stretching 500 meters outward from the wall. They rose up like wooden barricades, three feet tall and just as wide, forming a bramble-like barrier of twisted natural defense.
Kaelor stared into the distant treeline, the storm clouds still rumbling above.