The children were huddled together around the fire, surrounded by the few adults who had been close enough to protect them. They had grabbed the nearby pots and pans for defense. They stood fast around the children, their legs shaking with fear and eyes wide as they watched the chaos unfold around them. The other fairies were spread around the camp alone or in pairs, trying desperately to gather together or hide.
There were six wolves in the pack. The beasts towered above the fairies, nearly eight feet tall. Their lips curled back to reveal sharp canine fangs as they surveyed the camp and breathed in the smell of their prey’s fear. They possessed utter certainty in their superiority, confident in the inevitable outcome of the ambush. A single wolf stood in the middle of the pack, towering even above the other wolves. His white fur was marked with symbols painted in blood and his claws had been sharpened to fine points. Unlike the others, who twitched with excitement, this wolf appeared to look almost bored. As if it were all beneath him.
Five wolves rushed forward, heading towards those fairies that found themselves separated and alone. Screams and croaks flooded the camp as the wolves brought fear and destruction upon the peaceful nomads. They barreled through tents and supplies without slowing, shattering them in their single-minded focus on the prey before them.
Fairy women hurled stones with their earth magic, and frogmen spit their paralytic poison, but their efforts did little to slow the onslaught. The wolves were fast and powerful, and closed the distance too quickly for the creatures to put up much of a fight.
One frogman’s poison struck the wolf in the muzzle as it tried to defend its mate. Anger flooded the wolf’s face, and the wolf struck out with sharpened claws, ripping open the frogman’s abdomen and spilling his insides across the ground. The wolf gave a sadistic grin as the frogman died, then grabbed the frog’s mate by the waist and hauled her up onto its shoulders. The woman struggled with panic until the wolf slammed her in the head with its fist. It gave a sadistic growl as it felt the woman grow limp and began scanning the camp for its next target.
It did not find one. Milly used her earth magic to rip a large slab of stone from the ground and hurled it at the wolf. The stone struck the wolf square in the chest, shattering on impact. The force of the strike launched the wolf backwards into the river. The woman that had been perched on its shoulders fell to the ground, unmoving.
Fairy and wolf alike turned towards Milly in surprise. Milly’s eyes were ablaze, her hands covered in her deep flame. Salem’s Fury filled her, and she let it consume her fear and doubt, leaving only righteous anger.
“I will not let you hurt anyone else,” Milly shouted. She threw her hand up in the air and she formed a wall of fire between the wolves and the fairies huddled around the fire. It rose six feet into the air, hiding the fairy parents and their children from view.
The chaos suddenly stilled as all eyes were upon her. Milly’s gaze flashed to her left, spotting Rain and Calista moving into position behind the wolves. Calista’s spear was raised towards the largest wolf, glowing purple as it had when she had killed The Crushing Wave, as she waited for the right opportunity.
And then the largest wolf – the alpha wolf – grinned wide and began to speak.
“Well, this is a welcome surprise,” the alpha wolf declared, his deep, gravelly voice laced with amusement. “We were tasked with bringing back a few fairies. Imagine how envious Greyclaw will be when I bring him something new. Something far more valuable.”
Calista’s eyes flashed and she hurled her spear at the distracted wolf with all her strength.
The alpha’s eyes flashed. With incredible agility, the wolf twisted to the side, dodging it. In mid-flight, the wolf reached out and encircled its palm around the glowing spear, catching it. The Spear of Pinga’s momentum was halted in an instant, its glow dispelled.
The alpha turned towards Calista and Rain and grinned. He tapped its muzzle twice. “Did you think you could sneak up on Red Fang the Imposing, alpha of the third-ranked slaver pack of the Silver Lakes? I could smell you coming, foolish creatures,” Red Fang chided, dropping the spear to the ground at his feet. “Do you think you are the predators here? No, you are just a different prey. Let me show you how…”
Rain’s vial shattered at Red Fang’s feet. The resulting explosion rocked the camp, sending Red Fang flying backwards into one of the tents and launching dirt and debris across the camp. Calista’s spear flew back to her waiting palm as she called for it to return, its glow returned.
Red Fang rose to his feet, throwing aside the hide tent. His look of amusement had vanished, replaced with an anger that permeated every fiber of his being.
“Forget the small fry,” Red Fang shouted to its pack, eyes now fixed on Rain as he plucked a shard of shattered glass from its cheek. “Bring me these fools. I want to see them suffering in our slave pits before the sun sets!”
The wolves abandoned their fairy prey, rushing towards the trio. Milly watched in horror as Red Fang headed straight for Rain and Calista, closing the distance in a few massive footsteps. The two nearest wolves fell in beside their leader, and within moments Rain and Calista were engaged in a perilous battle, overnumbered against the savage wolves.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Milly tried to rush towards Calista and Rain, but the remaining two wolves were on her in a moment, biting and clawing with the ferociousness of rabid dogs. Pinga’s shield was gone in the first moments, and deep cuts from their dagger-like claws began to appear along her arms as she scrambled to break free of their onslaught. She was forced to forget about helping Calista and Rain, her heart sinking at the necessity. All she could focus on was the two wolves attacking her.
Milly thrust her hands forward, using her telekinesis to push herself backwards to create space between herself and the wolves. She ignored the sharp pain from the cuts across her arms, blood already dripping down her fingers. These were not like the goblins or the ogres at the Battle of Tower Beach. These creatures were stronger and faster. They were intelligent. Coordinated. They knew how to hunt as a pack.
One of the wolves veered left, circling wide to flank Milly from behind. Her eyes flashed towards it, but the second wolf used her moment of distraction to leap forward, reaching out with his paw to grasp Milly’s arm and haul her to the ground for capture.
Instinctively, Milly pivoted quickly on her heels, so the grasp narrowly missed her. She reached out with both hands and sent a spear of flame through her palms and into the beast’s chest. She watched the flames lick along the surface of its fur, struggling to breach the surface, as if its fur were somehow resistant to her fire. The beast grinned at her, unphased.
In the corner of her eye, Milly saw the second wolf leap forward, claws extended as it went for her back.
“Fuck it,” Milly spat, letting her flames suddenly fade. She reached out and grabbed the arm of the first wolf tightly and used her enhanced strength to pull it off its feet. Shocked by Milly’s unexpected strength, the wolf quickly found itself pulled off the ground, and Milly twisted around and hurled it towards the wolf at her back.
The first wolf flew forward and collided with its partner mid-air, sending them both tumbling backwards into one of the fairy tents.
She only had a few moments. The wolves were already rising to their feet, red eyes filled with hate. Their plan for capture replaced with an intense need to kill.
Salem’s Fury consumed the fear that rose in Milly’s heart, leaving careful calculation. She scanned the camp and spotted the cooking spit. A long metal rod perched between two thick branches, glowing red with heat hours over the fire.
The wolves began to rush towards her. Milly reached out with her telekinesis, feeling for the metal rod, just outside of her magical range.
“Come on, just a little bit further,” she said, straining. She took a single step towards the fire, as the wolves leapt towards her, teeth bared and intent on the kill. She felt the metal in her mind, and she grasped hold of it with her magic.
Milly thrust her hands to the side and the metal rod sped towards her through the air. Its sudden flight caused the cooking spit’s supporting branches to collapse into the fire, the impact sending hot coals and sparks towards the children and their protectors. Their shouts of surprise and panic were, yet Milly ignored them, completely focused on the rod flying fast towards the wolves. Powerful and deadly.
The rod reached the wolves in the final moments before their claws struck Milly. It struck the first wolf below its ear, piercing into its skull with enough force to drive it straight through to the other side. It carried the body of the first wolf into the second, the rod impacting the second wolf below its outstretched arm and piercing into its chest. It let out a high-pitched yelp of pain as two wolves collapsed into a pile at Milly’s side, one dead and the other struggling to breathe as the heated rod roasted its lungs from the inside.
The smell of burning flesh began to seep into the air, and Milly watched as the second wolf tried to gasp in pain. There was no sound. Only a tiny puff of heated air that smelled like the funeral pyre at the Tower.
She turned away from the wolves, leaving the second wolf to die in its own time. She felt no remorse for the creatures. No churn in her stomach that preluded the need to vomit that had overtaken her when she had first killed in this world. For a moment, she wondered if it was Salem’s Fury continuing to absorb her emotions or if she was growing accustomed to death.
But the thought was forgotten in an instant when she turned towards Rain and Calista. They were in trouble.
Calista was covered in deep gashes, one of the wolves lying dead at her feet, but another wolf, the one Milly had launched into the river, had replaced it. Her spear swirled around her in complex web of attack and defense, the result of enhancing her spear specialty talent when she hit level fifteen. Despite this, Calista could do little but hold her ground.
“God damn it,” Calista spat, frustrated. She kept trying to reach Rain’s side, but the wolves continually moved to keep them separated. Calista spun her spear, fainting high and stabbing low, piercing one of the wolves in its thigh. It gave a yelp, but it stayed upright and struck back, slicing a claw across Calista’s waist. They were intent on ensuring their leader could have his fun with the third woman. The woman with the bottle.
Rain was in rough shape. Her left arm hung limply at her side, covered in blood. Her shirt was slashed from neck to midriff, and the strap of her satchel had been sliced clean through. Her potions now lay a dozen feet away, hurled into a gooseberry bush. She held her dagger in front of her, its pearl half drained of the poison she had embedded inside, and she was struggling to stay on her feet.
Red Fang bled from several wounds across its chest, yet it seemed unfazed by the poison now coursing through its veins. He stood nearly twice as tall as Rain, teeth bared in a vicious grin. He was playing with his prey and enjoying every minute.
Rain thrust her dagger forward and Red Fang did not bother to move. Her dagger struck Red Fang’s chest at the bottom of his ribs, emptying a little more poison into its bloodstream. The beast hardly flinched. It left the dagger where it was as he grasped Rain’s wrist and struck her hard across the jaw with his other paw. Milly heard a sharp crack, and Rain collapsed at Red Fang’s feet, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth.
“Rain!” Milly shouted, drawing the attention of the alpha.
Red Fang glanced in her direction, eyes falling for a moment on its fallen pack members collapsed beside Milly.
“She was weak,” he laughed, kicking Rain in this stomach as she lay on the ground and sent her hurling into the trunk of a tree. “Perhaps you will be more of a challenge.”