They were hungry things.
They didn’t remember where they came from, where they were going, or even why they were here. None of it mattered to them either. All they wanted was to eat. Yes, they were gluttons.
Why did they eat? Because they were hungry. Why were they hungry? Who knew? Ever since they could remember, they had been starving. No matter how much they consumed, they were still so hungry.
And while they had been wandering, they came across the scent of meat. Ordinarily, they would have moved on to find better food, but this time… The smell had masked another one, one that was far more delicious than the others. They were sure that it was a delicacy. The ultimate feast. That if they ate it, then they would finally be full.
And so, they attacked.
In the dead of the night, their howls erupted.
The villagers that hadn’t been woken up by Emil’s screams were surely awake by now. They had either been woken up by their family members or the horrendous odor.
A few of them gathered outside, discussing in low voices. No one knew what was going on. Still, none of them were fools. Judging by the howls, the fog, and the smell, something horrible was coming. In this world filled with magic and magical creatures, only the worst could be assumed.
“Gather weapons!” a middle-aged man roared. Hemming had assumed the role of village chief because before he was banished and his magic stripped of him, he had been a formidable knight! Under his guidance, everyone felt significantly safer. “Everyone that can fight, gather round. The young and the old should hide in the farthest hut! Hurry, hurry!”
Everyone was rushing around now, pooling together the crudely crafted weapons that they had. It was a pitifully small amount. Due to the convenient location of their village, they had enjoyed years of peace. They had never dealt with any wild animal attacks because they were located relatively close to some nobles. Those nobles would always go out and hunt for fun, scaring away all sorts of beasts that would usually prey on them.
Hemming stood over the pile, his expression darkening. If anyone were to look at him, they would assume that he was in deep thought. But, actually, the man was panicking!
To be honest, he was lying when he told everyone he had been a knight. Before he came here, he was a knight’s servant. He polished his armor, and his swords. Sometimes, he would pretend that he was a hero and would mimic his master’s movements he had seen while peeping at his practices.
He was only lucky that his appearance made him look like a war-hardened knight. He had endured many scars from the beatings he had received, not from honorable duels and battles!
So now, when faced with actual danger, he was sweating. Everyone was looking up to him! His lies would be exposed soon enough. That, and whatever was lurking in those woods would surely kill him.
Oh, how he wanted to tuck in his tail and escape. But if he even dared to run, forget what was in the forest, the villagers would catch him and murder him!
All he could feel was dread.
Curse this damn life of his! If he hadn’t been caught stealing food that one time--if he hadn’t broken the last straw--then he would still be safe within the confines of a knight’s home!
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“W-what’s that?” the young man standing next to Hemming questioned, pointing a bony finger in the direction of the front of the village.
Hemming and the others all squinted, trying to see what he was seeing. All they saw was darkness.
The putrid scent was thickening. It had passed the threshold for being “too much” long ago, so some of the people that had gathered at the front of the village began to puke. It was just too intense for them to hold it back anymore. Their eyes were watering profusely just from the strength of the smell.
“There!” another man yelled, also gesturing in the shadows. “There are eyes…”
Finally, they saw them. Amongst the pitch black, there were small gleaming lights that almost couldn’t be seen.
At least a dozen eyes were staring at them from the cover of the night. If there were more further back… well, no one here would be able to tell.
Once again, howls shook the air. They sounded far more savage than before. More and more wolves joined into the howling, their baying significed one thing:
The hunt had begun.
They burst out from the shadows. Their bodies were the same size as the average wolf, but there were still obvious differences. They were thick with muscle and their fur had a metallic sheen to it, making it seem more like armor than anything else. Their mouths were open, revealing rows of jagged and sharp teeth, with foul smelling drool dripping from them.
And the red glow from their eyes signified one thing: these were magical creatures.
Their howls synced together in eerie harmony. In response, a blood, red magical array began to appear in the sky. The wolves began to grow and grow in size until they each were around a little less two meters. They were massive, easily taller than the majority of men in the village.
“Everybody, run!” Hemming shouted, not hesitating to abandon the idea of fighting against these monsters! Just one look at their powerful jaws and he knew that a single bite from them could effortlessly tear through muscle and bone. No one here had any physical enhancements that could protect them from this. Combat with these beasts would just result in one-sided slaughter! Their best option was to run and hope that they were fast enough to not get caught.
Seeing that Hemming had bolted, everyone else followed in suite. No one here was heroic enough to face these wolves on their own.
But their belief that they could outrun these beasts, whose entire existence was focused around hunting, was foolish.
The group of people five or so that hadn’t been faster than the others were quickly tackled to the ground by the giant wolves.
And one of the men who had been attacked felt a numbing sensation rapidly spreading through his body, rendering him unable to move within a few moments. Their saliva had a paralyzing agent in it! He had came to this realization too late and could not warn anybody else.
The wolf’s mouth came down, yanking the man’s head from the rest of his body. Blood from his aerties spluttered out, soaking the earth. The metallic scent rose, mixing with the other smells in the air. This only served to excite the pack of wolves even more.
Screams erupted through the air and all sense of calm and unity had been completely shattered. Everyone started rushing away from the wolves, not caring who they knocked over in the process as long as they were safe. Everyone here really only cared about themselves in the first place! If it wasn’t their family, they didn’t give a damn about who got hurt.
And as for the ones that got knocked down, well, their fates were obvious: they were viciously torn apart and devoured. Blood was rapidly forming in large pools on the ground, mutilated bodies with their insides torn out strewn across. The wolves were wasteful and simply killed then moved on, only a few of them paused to eat the fresh meat.
Seeing the cruel fates of their neighbors, everyone’s desire to survive increased.
Hemming was obviously no different. He shoved everyone to the side that dared get in his way, hoping that they’d serve as a buffer between him and the hungry pack. There was no way that he could die here! Not in this damned place. He was going to get the hell out of here one way or another. If he had to hide under a pile of corpses to survive, he didn’t care!
In this world, the only ones that could survive were the ones that could endure.