Chapter 22: Vi’s Great Magic Prowess
After a long, tense march through the drenched woods, Kaelor finally crouched low at the edge of the Oasis Basin. Rain still fell in a steady drizzle, pattering on leaves and metal. He moved slowly, brushing aside the last line of shrubs, inch by inch, careful not to snap a twig or rustle too loudly.
He squinted through the leaves, breath shallow, preparing to glimpse the enemy below.
"We killed ten," he whispered to Hound behind him. "There should be seventy mor—"
Kaelor froze mid-sentence.
His heart skipped a beat.
The basin beyond the shrubs stretched open like a hole in the forest, a place bustling with life. What met his eyes was not a lesser number, but more. Far more.
The wolves had multiplied.
And among them, lying regally beside the towering Wolf King, was a new presence, a massive white wolf, its fur gleaming even in the rain, its eyes closed as if in meditation or waiting.
Kaelor’s jaw tightened, his breath caught. "They’re over a hundred..." he murmured, his voice laced with disbelief and quiet fury. "We’re going to face over a hundred wolves."
He turned to Hound, whose face had turned grim, hard lines cut deeper by the storm. The others crept to the edge, their eyes widening as they looked out over the basin.
The ground below was littered with carcasses, slaughtered beasts from the surrounding forest, some already bloated with rot, others freshly torn apart. The rain washed away the blood, but not the stench of death or the meaning behind it.