Most of the elation Yuriko felt at fighting the strange, iron-furred wolves faded as soon as she saw the camp. The tension was palpable, with over three times more people on watch. They managed to push the forest back by a couple of dozen paces, had dug up a trench, and had the makings of a decent palisade.

As soon as the watchers saw her next to Rolland, their stiff expressions loosened up. There were even a few who cheered. The tinge of desperation immediately eased.

Just past the palisade, she saw wolf corpses being butchered. The fur on most of them was still metal, and from what she could see, a fair bit of their muscles was also mostly iron. The blood was a bright red that didn’t lose its lustre even after being drained out. Of the body she saw, less than a tenth of the musculature was actual meat. The rest looked to have been transformed from flesh to iron. Upon closer inspection, however, with her perception aura, she quickly found out that the grey was still flesh. Instead, there were wires of iron inserted between each muscle fibre, which probably made the entire thing inedible. Perhaps if they put the meat in the fabricator? Ah, She, Gwendith, and Heron would have to feed it distilled Chaos. Well, if she didn’t actively focus on making distilled Chaos, the runescript patterns she had set up allowed her four motes per hour. She could go one mote a minute if she had to, which meant she could power the fabricator just by focusing for twelve minutes.

Hmmm, Gwendith could produce a mote every three or so minutes of effort while it took Heron ten minutes. She’d rather they focus on themselves first, however. Sighing to herself, she looked around for Desire, who was the designated keeper of the fabricator. The device wasn’t that big in the first place, just around four inches to each side, and could fit inside a backpack easily.

She noticed a few people with bandages around their limbs, as well as one person who was bare-chested and had a bloody wrap around his belly. A pang of guilt welled up inside her but quickly subsided once she shook her head. She couldn’t always protect them, and to do so would be stifling and futile. The best she could do was to train them to hold their own.

And it looked like it helped. Rolland said as much earlier but it was nice to visually confirm.

“Yuri! Where’ve you been?” Gwendith yelled as she charged out of the tent and tackle-hugged her. Yuriko caught her and spun her around, careful to avoid hitting Rolland with Gwendith’s legs.

The taciturn wolfman had shifted back to his human form and deftly dodged out of the way, even as his face struggled to remain impassive. He still had wolf ears sticking out of the sides of his head, and a wolf tail, which wagged left and right once before stilling. Cute…

“Just exploring,” Yuriko answered. “You saw the iron-furred wolves?”

“Yes.” Gwendith frowned. “They were…tough.”

“I’d bet.” Yuriko snorted. “They use the earth elemental energy so naturally though. It’s fascinating.”

Gwendith stiffened and turned her glare to Yuriko. “Were you playing with your enemies?”

“Ehehehe.”

“Hmph!”

“Well, I did learn a bit.”

“Oh? Show me?”

“After I figure it out,” Yuriko chuckled. Changing the subject, she asked, “How was the path?”

“Long and boring. Until we got here.” Gwendith nodded to the northeast. “Can I assume we’re to head towards the black pillars?”

“Yes, I believe that’s where the tunnels to Synkrasia lie.”

“I see. But…the wolves?”

“How many were hurt?”

“Five people, heavily. But Desire helped heal, so none are in danger.”

“I wish we had bis sis Niamh’s healing talismans,” Yuriko grumbled, “so we don’t have to rely on a single person to heal.”

“You don’t know the patterns?”

“It's more complicated than that.”

Yuriko scratched her cheek. She did know the runescript pattern Niamh used, but she couldn't get it to work. She lacked the understanding to use it, according to her sister-in-law.

“Hmmm, er, I guess, uhm, who else is a runescribe?” Gwendith asked. “Isn’t your friend, Orrin, one?”

Yuriko shook her head. “He can’t either. I showed him the pattern before and he said it’s still beyond him.”

“Ah.” Gwendith hummed. “Are we following the plan?”

Yuriko looked at the camp, at the wounded, and shook her head. “Better to fortify here first and we’ll scout the path. Then, once we’re ready, we’ll all go.”

“I see. Yes, that’s better than just pushing on. How many wolves are in this misty forest anyway?”

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Yuriko shrugged, “Who knows? If they keep ambushing our people…we’ll have to prepare.”

The two of them headed towards the campfire after Yuriko thanked Rolland for his help. He grunted and said, “My kin feel uneasy in this place. Whatever you’re planning to do here, I think we shouldn’t dawdle.”

“Alright,” Yuriko nodded. “I would appreciate it if your family hunt down any of the iron-furred wolves that dare to come close.”

Rolland snorted sourly. “Your Will.”

Gwendith giggled and whispered to Yuriko once the man left them. “He certainly looks nice, doesn’t he?” Her teasing tone contained a hint of pain though. Yuriko patted Gwendith’s hand, and her friend just giggled.

“Tell me how you fought.”

“Ah, well…”

So Gwendith revealed her battles. Even aided by her cousin, Gwendith struggled against the heavily protected wolves, and that was a weakness she couldn’t afford to leave untrained.

But what could Yuriko do or teach Gwendith? Their spars wouldn’t really help, as neither of them sought to hurt the other. What her Squire needed was a method to quickly subdue armoured foes. Well, she had a method, her freezing attacks. But it was too slow, in Yuriko’s opinion.

More often than not, Gwendith fought using a simulacrum of Yuriko’s sunshard style, except with blades that were more fragile and with a shorter range. But what if the ice daggers weren’t so easy to break? Would the armour or iron fur break instead?

“Yuri? Oh!” Gwendith gasped when a raindrop smacked her nose. Yuriko snorted a chuckle and earned a glare for her efforts. A moment later, the clouds above released precipitation. Yesterday afternoon, it had rained, too.

Only a few tents had been set up, but some measure of water control had been implemented in camp. The earth sloped towards the centre of the valley, so whatever water buildup would go that way. Someone had already begun a series of shallow canals to guide the water east.

Yuriko filled her aura with Radiant energy, which evaporated the rain as soon as it made contact. Her Animakinesis couldn’t catch the rain any better than her hands could, but by doing this, she could prevent herself from getting drenched.

“Ooooh. Nice and warm,” Gwendith murmured.

As the rain intensified, the rest of her people scrambled to put up shelter. Poles were stabbed into the ground and canvas tarps slung over them. A few ever used the waiting palisade lumber as lean-tos.

The camp was roughly a hundred paces to a side. Not quite a square or rectangle, but a semi-circle pressed against the cliff side. A temporary affair, but one of necessity considering the sudden hostility of the local wildlife. They crossed half of the Zarek Mountains to this valley without encountering any enemies, with danger mainly coming from the terrain, and yet they were now under siege by the wolves.

The iron furred had not struck the camps, according to Gwendith, but had attacked the woodcutters and gatherers.

Was it strange that they hadn’t struck here? Yuriko pondered but dismissed her musings since she didn’t know enough to guess. If they moved as a large and well-defended group, she hoped the wolves wouldn’t attack. She wouldn’t rely on that though.

The earth was turning into mud, and that wouldn’t do. Clicking her tongue, Yuriko trod towards the centre of the camp and pushed her Radiant energy into the mud and earth, seeking to fuse them into stone. Steam rose from where she worked, and she made sure no one was close enough to be harmed by the sudden eruption.

“I’ll help,” Gwendith muttered when Yuriko began. She spread out her meagre Anima reach and shunted all of the steam towards her, before venting it up and away from everyone else. She also took the heat that escaped Yuriko’s control and either pushed it back into the ground or vented it upwards too.

In less than ten minutes, the camp’s centre, where the cookfires and tents would be pitched, had fused into smooth stone. Too smooth, actually, as when Heron attempted to cross it to reach her, his boots slipped from lack of traction and he landed on his bottom. Yuriko blinked innocently at him while he cursed, and made the surface rougher by perforating it with her Animakinesis.

Well, the circle was less than twenty paces wide, so she had to move to another spot and continued to fuse the ground. The drizzle had turned to a full downpour once she was done. Her clothes were dry and impeccable, as was Gwendith’s. For some reason, Heron had remained by their side, and even though he attempted to use his condensed aura to protect him from the rain, he was wholly unsuccessful judging by how his poncho clung to his skin, and the rivulets of rainwater dripping down his hair.

The rain should let up in half an hour or so, Yuriko thought as she stared up at the skies. She headed towards the palisade, followed by the other two, wondering if the wolves would attack them now. The forest canopy could shelter them from the rain, but after the attacks, no one was foolish enough to separate from the camp.

Still, Yuriko kept watch, and by the time the rain let up, her people were once again busy at work. The scents of cooking, mainly from whatever meat they managed to harvest from the iron-furred wolves, mixed in with ration bars, Wayfarer’s bread, and some of the dried goat meat, wafted over to her observation post, which happened to be on top of a log. She heard Heron and Gwendith gulping and perceived the boy wiping drool off his mouth.

Yuriko’s tummy began gurgling, too, but she kept up her vigil. Soon enough, someone brought over a bowl for each of them, and Yuriko dug in. The meat stew was tasty even if the meat chunks were still tough and gamey. The Wayfarer’s bread, even though it wasn’t as nutritious as the ration bars, was still longstrides better from the sweet taste alone. She felt treacherous for thinking that about the Federation’s ready-to-eat foods, but Ancestors, she thought she didn’t mind raw ration bars, only to find out that she was gravely mistaken. Now that she knew what they could be made out of only made her distaste for it keener.

The facts were that if the fabricator worked at least seventeen hours a day at full capacity, it would be enough to produce all of the food they needed. A single iron-furred wolf would probably be enough to supply the raw materials needed for that, so… they had enough wolves to last them a couple of weeks. With the abundance of wolves… well, they weren’t in any danger of starving now.

Chuckling to herself, she wryly noted that they’d been worried about food a few weeks ago and yet a single generous act from Finan solved most of their supply issues. She’d have to thank him properly when they met again.

She noticed immediately when someone hidden in the shadows entered within her Anima reach. Saki materialised and waved at her, but the attendant’s expression shifted from happy to serious quickly.

“What is it?” Gwendith blurted out.

Saki looked at the other golden-haired girl and smirked, then she bowed to Yuriko and said, “There’s a road in the middle of the forest. And there’s an army marching on it.”