Laira’s heart was beating up to her throat, cold sweat running down her neck.
There was something very disconcerting about hanging over someone’s back, not being able to see where they were running towards but instead having to helplessly watch their pursuers closing in more and more.
The longer they were running, the more she could make out all the details of the wolves chasing after them. Their grey speckled fur, their long snouts lined with sharp teeth.
“Is it… still far?” she yelled.
The only answer to her question was heaving and puffing, Lukas not bothering to reply but instead choosing to save all energy for running. At least that’s what she hoped the reason was, and not him deciding not to reply because the answer would be bad news.
But if the camp was still far…
The wolves were barely a few dozen meters away from them now, already close enough that she thought she could make out the hunger in their eyes. She gulped.
It’s not hunger, is it?
It wasn’t for the first time that Laira felt the animals’ eyes looked unusually hostile in the trial. As if there was a kind of primal hatred inside that compelled them to attack all humans on sight.
This is just a Tutorial, right? If everything is already this hostile in the Tutorial, won’t it be even worse afterwards?
A jolt, caused by Lukas stumbling, brought her attention back to a more pressing issue. Her gaze focused again on the approaching wolves, which were now close enough that she could hear their occasional growls.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins.
Are we going to make it?
Lukas must have noticed her tensing up on his back, because he finally said something.
“Al-Almost!” he yelled, briefly interrupted by his own labored breathing.
Other voices could now be heard clamoring behind her, but they sounded fainter than the wolves galloping and panting in front of her.
They are too far, aren’t they? We aren’t gonna make it.
Is there anything I can do?
Her weird skill sprung up in her mind, her thoughts turning to possible ways how she could distract or delay the wolves. But the moment she attempted to draw upon the skill, something told her that it wouldn’t work.
Too… soon?
She didn’t know how she knew, but the feeling was unmistakable.
The skill, or maybe herself, simply wasn’t ready yet.
Her fear, which had accompanied her the whole run downhill, turned into helpless panic. Staring death into the eye and being able to do something, or being completely helpless and simply waiting for it like an animal on its way to the slaughter block, were completely different things. The latter was much, much worse.
But she knew Lukas was still much faster carrying her than she would be running alone. So all she could do was lie on his back and hope they would still somehow make it.
The yells behind her were now louder, closer, but the wolves… The wolves were almost upon them.
Their shapes became blurry as tears of fear and desperation formed in her eyes.
She couldn’t bear looking at them anymore, instead closing her eyes and picturing her sister. She didn’t want to watch death approach her slowly - didn’t want to think about the upcoming pain. She pulled up memories of their childhood, of times when Cloe and her had been laughing and playing together. Inadvertently, other memories of… darker times also tried to resurface, but she expertly banished them away. In her last moments, she only wanted to recollect her happy times.
Laira was so focused on her memories, blending out everything around her as best as she could, that at first she didn’t even notice the sudden *swish* sounds and the subsequent yelps, nor the ever closer cries of other people.
In fact, it wasn’t until she felt a weird sensation of weightlessness that she broke out of her memory trip and opened her eyes again.
What greeted her was the rapidly approaching ground.
“Ahh– Umph.”
Her cry of surprise got cut short when she crashed head first into the grass.
For a moment, she only saw stars, the impact stunning all her senses.
Then she groaned, which immediately turned to her spitting out foreign matter in her mouth, accompanied by liberal cursing.
It was her first time since being a toddler that she had to taste dirt in her mouth and it was a far cry from the enjoyment little children made it out to be.
Still dizzy from the fall, she pulled herself up and turned around to get a view on what was happening.
Her vision was still blurry, so it took her a moment to understand that the gigantic, furry, form in front of her wasn’t just one beast, it was Lukas and a wolf, wrestling together. Lukas was trying to pin it to the ground, his sword stuck deep in its throat, while the wolf still struggled, ripping open the occasional gash on Lukas’ back.
Another wolf was lying on the ground a few steps away, its head impaled by a wooden arrow straight through its eye.
Someone’s shooting?
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That thought triggered a small wave of relief, the sight of outside aid replacing her state of helpless panic with just ordinary panic.
Her thoughts about someone shooting got confirmed when she heard another arrow whistle past. She watched as one of the other rapidly approaching wolves jumped to the side in an attempt to dodge. An arrow barely missed its head, instead hitting it in the side. Wooden splinters flew away from where the wolf got hit, followed by an angry growl, but apart from a small red spot on its side, the shot didn’t seem to have injured it much.
They are tough… The first shot must have been very lucky.
Lukas staggered back from the wolf and fell on his back, the beast he had been wrestling with all this time now lying motionless on the ground.
“Lukas!”, she cried out.
“I’m… alright”, he replied, his voice trembling.
Laira didn’t really believe him, but there was no time to ponder the issue; more wolves were already arriving at their position. And even more followed close behind, at least half a dozen grey-furred shapes were heading straight for them.
She had barely started struggling back onto her feet when the next wolf was already in front of Lukas, who had somehow managed to get back into a standing position, his sword ready. The wolf sped up, running straight at him and then… dodged to the side, passing Lukas and heading towards her instead.
The beast passed the few steps separating her from Lukas in a flash, her frantic scrambling backwards not adding much of a delay before it was upon her.
Not for the first time today she wondered if this was finally the end of her life.
“...aaaaaa”
She could already hear the ghostly wails of her ancestors calling out to her, beckoning for her to join them in the afterlif-
“aAAAAAH!”
A sudden gust of wind brushed over her and something crashed into the wolf with great force, just before it could close its jaws around her neck.
The surprised yelp of the wolf was accompanied by the sound of multiple bones breaking. The wolf tumbled briefly on the ground before regaining its balance, whilst a short form had disentangled itself from it and came to a halt between Laira and the wolf.
Laira’s eyes widened at the sight of a small, stocky man, who was suddenly standing before her. His hands held a large war hammer, which had left a visible dent into the wolves side when it had crashed into it.
The clearly injured wolf was limping backwards from the man, growling and flashing its teeth at him. Its retreat didn’t last long however, as Lukas quickly buried his flashing sword into it from behind.
It let out another short yelp and then collapsed onto the ground, its limbs spasming erratically. Lukas and the man didn’t hesitate and finished it off completely with another few stabs and, admittedly, horrifyingly crunchy hammer blows.
“Thank you, Brett,” Lukas said while still panting heavily.
“Of course.” The short man nodded and then reached upwards to pat Lukas’ shoulder, which, in Laira’s eyes, looked similar to a child trying to pat a parent,
“Can you get her back to the camp?” Brett rumbled while shooting Laira a quick look. “We got it handled here.”
We?
Lukas nodded and moved towards her, while Brett started into the opposite direction, towards the rest of the incoming wolves.
Both of them acted as if Lukas and Laira were already safe, completely disregarding the bunch of wolves which were still incoming.
Laira opened her mouth to say something when she noticed that the yelling behind her hadn’t stopped with Brett jumping over her. Before she could turn her head, a handful of people suddenly dashed past her, half of them screaming from the top of their lungs for some reason.
Brett, who had been trotting towards the wolves, now also picked up his speed and joined them in kind, also releasing a drawn out battle cry whilst the small group of people caught up to him. Curiously, the whole group seemed to speed up even more the moment Brett yelled. Together they ran towards the wolves, their weapons swinging around excitedly before the battle had even begun.
Laira stared after them, not sure what to make of the whole situation.
Thankfully the approaching Lukas distracted her from thinking too much about why those people had looked so happy to rush into danger.
He offered her his hand and helped her stand up, although he seemed oddly unstable while doing so.
“You are injured…” she muttered.
To call him injured was an understatement. He was covered in scratches and cuts, blood coloring large patches of his clothes a dark crimson. Some of the wounds were still from before the wolf attack, but many of them shone with a new, bright color. But so far he had mostly looked unbothered by it, while now he was clearly struggling.
He gave her a weak smile. “I’ve had worse.”
She raised her eyebrow at that.
“I’m not sure I believe that.”
He lightly shook his head, but otherwise didn’t reply.
She sighed.
“Maybe I should carry you this time around?”
He looked at her stunned for a second, as if she just said something absolutely outrageous. He opened his mouth, but before he could reply, Laira giggled.
“Just kidding. But,” she continued with a frown, ”we need to get you treated very quickly. Let’s go.”
That he seemed to agree with, as he quietly started walking in the direction of the camp. Laira also followed him, throwing occasional glances at the group behind them.
They were currently engaged in a brawl with the wolves, which consisted of a lot of shouting and yelps, which made it unclear who was winning. But the wolves were at least all occupied now, none of them making their way over to them anymore, which did calm her down a little.
On their slow walk towards the camp, they passed an archer who had apparently been the one who had shot one of the attacking wolves and was now covering their retreat. He gave them a brief nod and then continued keeping watch, making sure nothing approached them without them noticing.
Both of them walked towards the camp, its wooden stakes marking the perimeter now not too far from them anymore, at most a couple minutes at their speed.
“So…” Laira broke the silence, shooting a glance towards the stumbling Lukas.
He didn’t look very good, his injuries clearly not to be taken lightly.
But they were almost at the camp and Laira did still have one burning question on her mind.
Well, there were many things on her mind actually. She still wasn’t over how abruptly she had once again cheated death just now, but there was something even further at the front of her thoughts. Something that she just couldn’t hold in anymore.
So she decided to ask it in the end, even if he didn’t look to be in the mood for chattering right now.
“That was Brett, the commander, right?”
“...yeah,” he replied after a moment.
Laira almost thought that was all she would get from him, but he continued after a few seconds.
“...and he is really strong, as you might have noticed.”
Respect rang in his voice as he gave her a brief smile and then focused on walking properly again, which seemed to take quite a bit of focus.
“Mhh,” Laira nodded along, “but there is one thing I have been wondering about.”
Once again a few moments passed before Lukas answered.
“...what?”
Laira hesitated.
“Is he a dwarf?”
Lukas almost fell.