After delegating the task of surveying the wolves, Kaelor crouched near the edge of the cliff as each Dreadclaw returned and relayed their count from the sectors he had assigned.
"A total of eighty-two wolves," Kaelor muttered, voice grim. "With their leader, that makes eighty-three."
Below, many of the wolves lay resting in the moonlit basin, their breaths heavy and even, like beasts awaiting orders. Yet none of them, not even in sleep, seemed weak. There was a dreadful harmony in how they moved, how they lingered, quiet and ominous.
"We need to prepare for battle, My Lord," Hound said, his voice heavier than the silence surrounding them. Even with his usually unshakable tone, Kaelor sensed unease laced in his words.
"I’d rather we leave them be, at least for now," one of the Dreadclaws proposed, his eyes locked on the colossal white wolf resting by the pond. The others nodded in agreement, Kaelor included.
It was the sensible choice.
Why challenge an entire army of beasts with just seven warriors?
Even with strength far above normal men, none of them would survive being overrun, not against a coordinated pack . And once they fell, the defenseless town behind them would be next.
But Hound shook his head slowly, his glowing eyes narrowing.
"It’s not an option," he said, voice sharp as the edge of his saber. "Did none of you notice how silent the forest has been? We moved through the night, and met almost no resistance. Few predators. Fewer prey. The forest seems dead."
He raised his clawed hand and pointed toward the white wolf. "It means one thing: this pack has either killed or driven others, out. This part of the Wilderness is theirs now."
Kaelor’s breath caught in his throat.
"And the recent attacks on our people," Hound continued, "aren’t random. That wolf," he snarled slightly, "has been watching the town. Studying it. It’s intelligent, far more than any beast I’ve seen. When the hunger comes, and it will, they won’t hesitate. They’ll come in one wave."
Kaelor felt a chill coil around his spine like a serpent. Images of the town flashed through his mind, the rundown mud walls, the women and children at the rice fields, his people who had just begun to smile again.
They wouldn’t stand a chance.
He rose to his feet and sheathed Ignis, his face cold with realization. "We leave," he ordered.
No one argued this time.
Not out of fear, but out of the certainty that war was no longer a matter of if, but when.
While returning, Kaelor’s mind churned.
Not nearly enough to stand against an entire army of wolves. But perhaps... just enough to start something. A seed of resistance. A foundation. If he failed to make a stand here, there would be no second chance. Roaming wasn’t an option, not with the Dukedom of Merlin looming behind him like a noose. Even in other territories, his face might be recognized.
And recognition meant death, swift and unannounced. A shadow at his back. A dagger in the dark.
By the time they emerged from the Devil Wilderness, the skies had begun to lighten with the first blush of dawn. The return had taken roughly four hours, same as the journey there, counting the cautious pace, the winding paths, and short pauses to avoid danger.
Each of the Dreadclaw warriors carried a rabbit slung over their shoulder. They were thick, forest-grown hares, nearly two feet long, meager trophies, but still meat.
As the treeline thinned and the clearing yawned open, Kaelor caught sight of the valley. The town of Redwood lay still, cradled in the gentle light of morning. The fog here was thinner, drifting like a shawl across the fields. For a moment, he felt peace but then he saw it.
A rider lay slumped over a horse at the town gate, arrows protruding from their back like cruel spines. The horse stood still, its breath steaming softly in the cool air. Kaelor’s gaze locked on the path it had taken.
The same road from the Dukedom of Merlin.
Whoever they were... they had come from the one place he feared most.
Kaelor unsheathed Ignis with a sharp ring and bolted down the slope.
But Hound moved first. His massive paw slammed the ground, once, twice, before launching himself forward in a blur of speed and muscle. He reached the gate before Kaelor, Mountain Sabers already drawn and gleaming in the morning light.
The horse snorted but didn’t flinch. It was exhausted, foam trailing from its lips.
Kaelor approached from the flank, his blade levelled at the cloaked figure.
A low scowl rose from beneath the hood. The voice was sweet, almost musical, but laced with venom. "You made a mistake getting this close."
She straightened, arching her back despite the arrows lodged in her body, and the cloak fell away from her face.
Her skin was pale as moonlight. Gleaming silver hair, like woven strands of silk, flowed down her back in waves, catching the light. Her eyes, dull gray yet filled with coiled danger, studied him with unsettling calm. Her black lashes were long and thick. Her lips were painted a deep, inky black, like a noblewoman... or a mourner.
Five arrows protruded from her back and thighs, yet she held herself like royalty, her chin tilted in quiet defiance.
She looked both ethereal and lethal.
Suddenly, flames erupted from the ground around Kaelor, racing in a spiral, trailing like spilled oil catching a spark, until a burning wall encircled him. Heat licked at his skin, and smoke curled upward, swallowing the mist.
The woman raised her hand, but her voice faltered the moment her eyes caught Hound’s figure.
Her expression cracked.
"What... in the Emperor’s name are you—?! There are more of you?!"
Panic edged her words as her gaze swept across the Dreadclaw warriors now surrounding her, five towering figures, fangs bared, sabers already drawn, eyes glowing faintly in the morning haze.
They looked like monsters in man’s armor. And they were his.
Kaelor didn’t flinch. Instead, he planted Ignis into the earth.
With a hiss, the sword absorbed the fire wall in a blink, sucking the flames into its blade until only scorched grass remained around his boots.
He stepped forward and raised his weapon once more, its point aimed directly at her heart.
"Since you’ve come," Kaelor said coldly, "you’re not leaving."