"Matthaeus!" Reyland screamed, dashing towards the young boy as fast as he could.

The Norlander in question was panting hard, a long, dripping dagger clutched tightly in both hands as the wolf he had just slashed screamed next to him.

Just what's this kid thinking, coming back upstairs?! Reyland thought, gritting his teeth against the pain in his head as he ran. The wolf strained, black fur shimmering in the moonlight, before at last, the boards buckled in completely. In a shower of wooden splinters, nails and broken boards, the beast leaped angrily into the church, howling in excitement to its pack outside. The pack howled in response, the excited cries turning to barking laughter and excited snarling as dozens of beasts swarmed the now open window. The beast inside, now mostly blinded by the gash across its eyes, sniffed the air and turned towards Matthaeus, its unnaturally wide lips peeling back in a fanged grin.

Reyland reached Matthaeus just in time, tackling the boy to the ground a split second before the beast leaped over their heads. Its jaws clamped shut so close to the tops of their heads that a few strands of Matthaeus' long black hair were cut and ripped out as the beast sailed over them.

The crossbow in Reylands arms loosed, the bolt piercing the wolf's flank as it turned around for another strike, but the beast only snarled back. The bolt dangled out in the air, embedded in the creature's sinewy muscle uselessly, barely an annoyance to the massive black beast.

"Kid, listen to me! Now's not the time, get yourself back down-"

The beast lunged again, a black blur that moved far faster than Reyland had expected it to. He put one hand on the center of Matthaeus' chest, pushing him out of the way with all his strength, body moving faster than his mind ever could.

As the open maw closed in, he threw his unloaded crossbow straight into it, throwing himself out of the way as quickly as he could... but not fast enough. The beasts jaws clamped shut around the wooden weapon and crunched it into splinters, before the weight of the wolf crashed into Reyland's shoulder and drove them both to the ground.

The breath was knocked out of him as the beast landed on his chest, before its momentum carried it over his head and past him.

"Aaaaah!"

The sudden warcry was met with a pained yelp, as the wolf found a blade sticking through its belly. It snarled and made a blind snap at the direction of the assailant, but its jaws met only air.

"Terry!" Reyland yelled, climbing to his feet.

The other young man ripped Reyland's shortsword out with both hands, terror and rage in his eyes, but didn't back away. Instead, he thrust it forwards again, and again, and again, overwhelming the blinded, wounded wolf with stab after stab into its body. The wolf shrieked, so loud it left a ringing in Reyland's ears, and turned to try and snap its jaws shut on the young villager...

...Only to find a spear run through the inside of its mouth and into its brain. The older man weilding the spear yanked it out cleanly, letting the beast fall to the ground with a dull thump.

Terry dropped to his knees, blade resting tip down on the wooden floor as he panted.

"You alright, son?" The older man asked, panting nearly as hard. His bare forearms were speckled with flecks of orange blood.

"I-"

Bang!

Every single one of them jumped, as the entire church seemed to rattle in its foundation, the crude chandelier in the center of the room shaking violently around on its chain. They all turned with horror towards the front doors, where the beam barricading them now had a visible bend to it, the wood splintering and cracking inwards like a twig bent to near snapping.

Something colossal had just thrown itself into the doors again, pushing them open wide, but none of them had been able to see just what it was. Instead, what they saw was the sea of dull, orange glowing eyes outside. One of those sets was so close to the entrance that when the doors had bucked open, it had forced its way inside, slinking through with a struggled pop as it came free from the doors and landed inside. It cackled triumphantly, shaking its long, almost horse-like mane, jaws snapping in anticipation... until in a flash of silver, it's head hit the ground with a dull thud.

Griff stepped back, resting the heavy, one sided greatsword over his shoulder, the slightly curved blade glimmering dangerously in the moonlight. It still dripped, slick with blood along half its length. Even from a distance, Reyland could make out the hairs raised on the back of his mentor's neck as the man stood alone in front of the main doors. He couldn't see Griff's face, but he could clearly visualize the terrifying glare his mentor wore when he was serious.

For a brief second, he almost felt sorry for the beasts... almost.

But then, a second wolf leaped cleanly through the window that the first had opened wide, claws digging deep gouges into the wood as it landed, and he didn't have much time to think at all.

"Terry! My sword!" He yelled, already moving, despite the screaming pain in the back of his head.

Terry's blank, panicked expression didn't react in time, so as Reyland passed him, he wrenched the sword from the other man's hand, careful not to cut himself on its razor edge.

He lunged towards the beast, sword tip pointed right at the center of its eye, but the beast snarled and leaped back, entire form blurring as it moved unnaturally fast to avoid his strike. Reyland grimaced, but darted forwards even faster, catching the beast on the top of its head with a light slash, before stopping on a dime and leaping backwards, the beast's jaws snapping shut inches from his shirt.

Finish it quick, more'll come through the window any moment.

Reyland twisted himself around a wild swipe the creature made with its claws, not backpedaling but closing in even more. In one fluid motion he spun like a dancer, barely avoiding another bite, and sunk his blade deep in between its ribs.

It shrieked, twisted to try and reach him, but he leaped up, rolling across the beast's back and over to its other side, his blade swiping upwards in a bloody crescent as he carved what would normally be a fatal wound into its other flank.

This time, when the beast twisted to try and bite him, he was waiting for it, the tip of his sword finding its eye and piercing through to the brain.

The black wolf dropped to the ground slowly, its legs buckling under its weight as the life left its body and Reyland's sword left its head. He flicked it towards the ground to free it of most of the spattering of gore along its edge.

"Blimey, Reyland..." Terry muttered, catching his attention.

The tawny haired villager was staring in shock, still breathing hard but not as panicked as he was a moment ago. Reyland opened his mouth to reply, but before he could even start, the scratching of claws at the window drew his attention. He twisted back to face the window, sword held ready in front of him and a murderous gleam in his eyes.

What he saw however, wasn't something he was really ready for.

It was another wolf, just the same as all the others had been... but it was so big, it couldn't fully fit through the window. It was still nowhere near the size of the monster outside the front doors, which continued to slam into them every few moments, but even still it dwarfed the one Reyland had just killed easily.

The wolf seemed frustrated that it couldn't fit through the opening, and with a dangerously intelligent look in its eyes, snarled, then clamped its jaws shut around the bottom of the windowframe, and tugged.

The pit that had been stuck in Reyland's gut for hours now seemed to double in size, as the entire bottom section of the wall was ripped away, and the sight of half a dozen wolves waiting eagerly outside greeted them.

"Griff!" Reyland screamed, before clenching his jaw shut so tight he felt he might crack a tooth.

The beasts outside snarled and barked, before rushing the gaping hole in the wall the larger beast had created. Behind him, Reyland noticed Matthaeus, dagger in hand, take a single step forwards, towards the opening.

Reyland's hand met the center of the boy's chest, his open palm pushing the young boy backwards, where Matthaeus landed on his behind with a small oof.

"Kid, stay out of this!" Reyland yelled, steeling himself as best he could. "Get back downstairs, now!"

He didn't wait around to get an answer. Reyland dashed forwards, sweeping low to scoop up some wooden debris in his free hand as he ran, before throwing it ahead of him and into the face of the first wolf to reach the opening. It didn't do much, but it was enough. The creature slowed just long enough for the one running beside it to make its way through first, alone, instead of both creatures rushing him at the same time.

Reyland let his sword hang loose at his side, exposing his neck and upper chest to the beast, which took the bait. As it jumped at him, he quickly leaned to the side, bringing the shortsword up and plunging it deep into the creature's neck, before letting the weight of the wolf carry the wounded animal past him.

"Finish it off! Don't let it get back to its feet!" He ordered, not even looking behind him. The second wolf was already upon him.

He had to jump back from this one, slashing at its face as he danced backwards once, twice, then thrice, lining its black furred face with deep cuts that seemed only to anger it.

After what was only a second or two at most, he finally caught it along one eye, and the beast shrieked in pain, staggered just enough for him to dart forwards again and plunge the blade into its temple, dropping it on the spot.

With a terrifying realisation, he noticed that three more wolves had reached the hole, and the large one that had ripped open the wall was standing right behind them, glaring inwards with a hellish grin.

Now that he could see it fully, the larger creature was even bigger than he had imagined. It was the size of a horse, nearly all black, but the ends of the hairs on its horse-like mane ended in vibrant, glowing shades of orange and red. Its shaggy fur bristled upwards as they locked eyes, puffing the creature up to an even bigger size as it towered over him.

...We're actually going to die.

The realisation hit him harder than he had thought it would. He thought he had been prepared to die, it wasn't exactly uncommon for the Order. Even during his Initiation, the first layer of training he had undertaken, there had been deaths in his own group of twelve. Only seven of them had lived to graduate their training, counting Reyland. So when he had thought about it before, he had thought he had come to terms with it.

But seeing his own death reflected back at him in the merciless eyes of a beast, he realised something he hadn't before.

He wasn't ready to die. Not even slightly.

His grip tightened around his sword, as the three creatures at the opening rushed him, moving unnaturally fast but somehow as if in slow motion to Reyland. He didn't even look at them, his eyes still locked on the giant beast that loomed in the night shadows behind them.

The pit in his stomach twisted into something ferocious, threatening to eat him alive from the inside out. It was like a red hot knife, twisting sadistically in his gut.

He wanted to be sick. He wanted this all to end. He wanted to be just about anywhere except here, right in this moment.

Instead, he forced himself to smile. A twisted and pained grin crossed his face, more of a sneer or grimace than a smile, but it was there nonetheless.

Can't exactly lay down and die with a kid standing right behind me, can I?

Not just Matthaeus. The entire town sat terrified downstairs, betting the fate of their lives on two monster slayers upstairs they had hardly spoken a word to. As much as he wanted to leave, he couldn't. It wasn't an option, one way or the other.

So instead, he forced that terrible, morbid grin to stay on his face, and charged right back at the beasts.

Reyland jumped as he reached the first one, diving forwards to roll across the top of its back as its hot breath tore past his head, missing him by inches. He drew his blade across its back as he did, knowing it would barely hurt the beast, but hoping merely to keep its attention on him, not the people behind him. It worked, for as he landed on the ground, the second beast lunged for his exposed neck from the front, while simultaneously the one he had just rolled over twisted to bite at the back of his head.

He dove to the side again, coming up in a roll as both creature's jaws clamped shut around where he had been a heartbeat ago. The third wolf blurred at the edge of his vision and he sucked in his breath as he barely got his blade up in time, slashing it across the face just hard enough to push its head to the side before it could latch onto his arm.

Reyland now stood in the very center of all three beasts, each only a few arms lengths away from him, and each already preparing another assault.

His ears twitched as he heard more screeching beasts at the hole in the wall, but he didn't have any time to so much as formulate a thought before he had to twist out of the way of another pair of snapping jaws. He slashed at the beasts head, managing to sever its long black ear, but the wolf only snarled at him again, undeterred.

The scratch of nails on wood from behind him was his only warning of danger, and he threw himself to the ground at his side, rolling to his feet as the beast landed where he had been standing. For a second he thought the creature had a long tuft of its own fur stuck in the side of its mouth before he recognized it as a torn piece of black cloth from his own riding cloak.

Blight, that was close...

He threw another piece of splintered wood debris at the beast as it spat out the cloth, catching it off guard and forcing it to close its eyes to protect them from the projectile. As its eyes snapped open he was already on top of it, the unwavering tip of his shortsword sliding into its thoat at the bottom of its chin and up into its head, stopping when the tip hit the roof of its skull.

It dropped to the ground, and he danced backwards again as the other two wolves blurred towards him, missing him by a hair as he twisted and leaped and spun in every which way to avoid them.

The giant wolf at last leaped through the opening, right as Reyland's back was to it. He had almost forgotten about it in the heat of battle, so close to death so many times that it was impossible to focus on anything else.

In that moment, he knew he was finished. He was off balance, darting back towards the wall, as the beast lunged in at him. He wouldn't even have time to catch himself before it was upon him.

But right as he braced himself for the jaws, a strangled, gargling scream from behind him echoed through the church.

Reyland got a lucky slash across the eyes of one of the wolves, blinding it just the way Matthaeus had earlier, before risking a glance back over his shoulder.

The sight he saw nearly broke him again.

The old man carrying a spear was there, watching his back... or at least he had been. Now, the old man was seven feet in the air, the gargantuan jaws of the wolf clamped tight around his entire head, lifting him up off the ground as if he were a child.

Reyland tried to block out the wet squish as the man's skull gave in under the pressure.

With a scream, Reyland rushed forwards, stabbing into the throat of the blinded wolf over and over. In his mad rush, the other wolf lunged at him, and he grimaced as its teeth latched onto his forearm in his wild flailing.

The scale armour he wore under his cloak stopped some of the teeth from going through, but not all. He felt several canines dig deep into his arm, but before the creature could really clamp down or shake its head, he drew back his sword and thrust it through its eye, dropping it. The jaws however didn't loosen as it died, and he choked back a scream of pain as the teeth embedded in his arm dropped suddenly, dragging him down to the ground with them.

He could hear footsteps and shouting from behind him, but his blurred eyes couldn't make out anything as he squeezed them shut in pain. He was on the ground, the bodies of the two wolves all around him, gritting his teeth against the pain. He dropped his weapon, wrapping his free hand in the end of his cloak to protect it, before shoving his palm up against the top of the dead wolf's jaws, straining with all his might to force its mouth open.

The long, pointed teeth dug into his palm a bit, but didn't puncture through his cloak or skin, as he slowly, slowly wrenched its jaws apart. The teeth clamped around his arm came free with a wet sucking sound, the yellowish fangs coated and dripping with thick red.

His left arm shook violently from the injury, but he could still feel and move all his fingers. At least that much was good news.

Reyland knew he didn't have a moment to spare. He quickly reached down to his cloak, finding an intact section large enough, before quickly slicing it into a long ribbon with his sword. He wrapped it around his heavily bleeding forearm, pulling the knot tight with his teeth when he was done. It wasn't much of a bandage, but it would have to do for now. Proper medical care wouldn't matter if he died before he could get it.

Pushing himself up from the bodies around him, Reyland braced himself to face down whatever he might find when he turned to the open hole, but even still what he saw caught him off guard.

People. A dozen of them, at the very least, with more swarming in from behind. It was the villagers. They had risen from the basement, staggering and feeble, but there they stood. At least four bodies had joined the old man's at the ground, and the floor was so slick with blood that people were at risk of slipping it in, but they kept moving forwards.

"Oi, oi!" Reyland yelled, watching helplessly as the people of Arcaster threw themselves at a seven foot tall wolf with nothing but kitchen knives, wooden planks and pans for weapons.

A middle aged woman screamed, rushed the creature with a cast iron pan in hand, terified tears running clearly down her face. She smacked it over the nose with all her might, before stumbling backwards uncertainly as the beast's wide, smiling lips didn't even waver at the blow.

The wolf snapped forwards, twisting its head sideways to bite the woman around the midriff, picking her up and crunching its jaws down, bending her body into a V shape as the screamed in pain, and then went silent.

Why, why?! Reyland shouted in his mind. Why had they come up here?! They were supposed to stay downstairs, supposed to stay safe!

...But of course he already knew the answer. Him and Griff weren't enough. The old man with the spear hadn't been enough. None of it had been enough. There were just too many of the beasts. Even as the giant wolf dropped the woman's lifeless body to the ground, licking its lips at the red that stained them, another half dozen wolves crowded around its back legs, impatient to run inside but unwilling to push past the giant beast that blocked their path.

Reyland screamed again, pain, anger, sadness and a million other feelings swirling in his chest as he rushed forwards, pushing his way through the crowd of people.

He caught a quick glance of Terry, clutching the dead man's spear in both hands and standing off to the side of the beast, before he was standing right in front of it.

Reyland's blade carved a crescent out of the night air, the beast rearing back at the sudden assault from what it had assumed to be easy prey. The tip of his blade carved through its nostrils, sending a line of orange blood soaring through the air. Reyland didn't let up for a second, because he knew as soon as he did, he was likely dead.

His blade swished forwards, over and over again, driving the beast back as he relentlessly carved its face, neck, chest and legs to ribbons. Every time it opened its mouth to go for a lunge, he plunged his blade deep into the inside of its mouth, rocking the beast back and stopping its attack. He ducked low, carving a deep gouge out of its leg and cutting halfway through the bone, but the creature didn't try to avoid the blow, instead it snarled and snapped its jaws down towards his head.

Reyland ducked under the beast's head and stepped in even closer, now standing underneath its neck. His blade came up, running through one side of its throat and out the other, to which the wolf gave a gargled shriek as its own blood filled its throat.

The beast's paw came up, surprising Reyland. It planted its clawed foot directly in the middle of his chest and pushed, the claws raking down the front of his armour as Reyland was thrown six feet away, landing roughly on his back.

The scale armour on his chest was ruined, four deep tears running almost the entire way down the armour. He would certainly have died if the tiny metal plates hadn't been in the way... as it was, the cuts were only superficial. The dull crack he heard in his ribs as the beast threw him was much more worrying, if the aching pain in his chest was any indicator.

Staggering backwards, the giant beast coughed and choked, hacking up the blood and spit that was now filling its mouth and throat. As it wavered for a second on its feet, Reyland climbed to his own, ready to run in and finish it, but he was a moment too late.

The spear point caught the beast just behind the shoulder, right in the heart. It tried to growl but choked again, snarling at Terry as the young man ripped the spear from its flank and backed away, easily sidestepping the injured beasts' bite. While it was still distracted looking at Terry, Reyland darted into range and slashed another line into its neck, hot blood spraying onto him as he danced back out of range before the wolf could reach him.

They didn't give the beast a moment to collect itself. Terry struck again, and as soon as its attention was off of Reyland, the bronze haired monster slayer would dash in and land another blow. Then Terry again, then Reyland... each man skirting death with every strike they made.

As the beasts' head reached the hole and it was about to finally exit the church, Reyland decided to take a risk. He dashed in closer than normal, aiming not at the wolf's head, but at the already weakened leg he had cut before.

With a satisfying schwing, his blade carved cleanly through the already weakened bone, and the lower half of the beasts' leg fell to the ground.

The howl of pain the creature released nearly dropped several of the villagers and rattled the walls of the church violently.

It was Terry's spear that ended it. As the creature reared back in pain, Terry made one final lunge, the spear catching the beast at the temple and piercing into the brain. The colossal wolf froze, mouth still opened in a shrieking howl, before it shuddered, and at last dropped to the ground.

The wolf pack outside in the dark seemed to hesitate, as they watched the giant drop. None of them moved towards the open wall.

The pounding in Reyland's heart was the only thing he could hear. Every part of him ached, but he straightened his posture and stood facing the opening. Terry took a stance beside him, spear held awkwardly and shakily, but pointing towards the wolves even so. Behind them, the villagers who could still stand pressed in closer behind them, makeshift weapons at the ready.

It was a standoff. The wolves outside, for the first time in the night, seemed uncertain. They look at one another, communicating silently, their posture hesitant. Inside, Reyland did his best to stand straight, sword held tightly but held off to the side.

Please, please let this work.

If the wolves decided to rush them, it was over. Reyland was spent. His head pounded, likely with a concussion from earlier. His rib was broken from the final shove the beast had given him. His arm was bleeding heavily, and the four claw marks running down his chest were slowly staining the front of his armour red. Every bit of energy he had left was spent in holding himself up. Even raising his sword into a ready position for too long was likely more than he could handle.

Somewhere in the distance, a rumbling sound met Reyland's ears, but he was in too much pain for it to really register.

If this doesn't work... it's over.

Time slowed to a crawl, as they waited to see what the beasts would do.

One beast snapped at another, growling deeply and drawing the attention of all the others. It barked loudly, before stepping forwards. It levelled its eyes at Reyland, glowing orange eyes meeting unwavering gold, before the beast howled a warcry, lowered its head, and sprinted at them.

Forcing his body to move, Reyland sucked in breath in panic and raised his weapon to meet the chargin beast...

...As a thin, dark shape blurred through the air, piercing the flank of the wolf with a wet thud.

The beast yelped in shock and turned towards the direction it had been struck in, only for half a dozen more blurs pelted the side of its body, and it fell to the ground with a shriek.

...Crossbow bolts? Reyland realised, his brain freezing up at the revelation.

"Yaaaaaaaa!" With the warcry of dozens of voices, the entire area was suddenly plunged into the bright orange light of torches. The wolves reacted with panic, yipping and shrinking backwards as the sudden onslought caught them off guard.

Dozens of crossbow bolts flew throught the air, thick as rain and heavier than hail. The wolves shrieked back as several of them fell to the ground, pierced throught he eye or the spine, others yelping in pain as they were hit in the flanks or hearts. Three of the wolves turned and broke rank, sprinting off into the woods with their tails between their legs.

The thundering noise that Reyland heard grew exponentially louder, as Reyland finally recognized it as the galloping of horses. In that very moment, he finally put it together, and a genuine, beaming grin appeared on his face.

"Oi, oi! How'dya like it now, when the numbers're even, aye?!" He shouted, waving his blade in the air triumphantly.

The wolf that had tried to charge him glared at him with death in its eyes and several wooden bolts sticking out of its side. It snarled, and moved to try and charge him again, before a dark, blurred shape charged past it.

The horse and its rider blew past, the dark cloaked man thrusting a long spear down into the beast, simply letting the spear go as it got caught in the creature's ribs. It shrieked at him and turned to try to follow, only for a second rider to come from behind, stabbing another spear down into the back of its neck as she passed, killing the beast instantly.

The two riders, dressed in nearly identical black armour to Griff and Reyland, dropped off their horses before they had even finished moving, both drawing longswords and cutting down another wolf in tandem.

Beside Reyland, Terry was watching with wide eyes and shock written all over his face.

"...Reyland, whats happening?" He asked faintly.

Reyland grinned back at him, leaning up against the broken edge of the wall to rest.

"You didn't think the Order only had two members, did ya?" Reyland answered with pride.

Terry shook his head, watching outside as dozens more black armoured riders flooded into the clearing, finishing off the wolves that hadn't already run.

As Terry took it all in, his knees shook, as the realisation that they weren't going to die settled in. The young man collapsed, landing on his rear on the hardwood floor, but seemed not to even notice. The spear he had been carrying clattered to the ground, forgotten by the young man as traces of tears filled his eyes.

From the front of the church, a colossal roar, many times louder than the beast they had just killed, rattled the building.

Right, Griff! Reyland realised with a start, as he remembered that the largest of the wolves had been just about to break down the front doors while they had been fighting. Reyland shot back to a stand, glancing worriedly over at the front doors where his mentor had been earlier.

The beam holding the doors shut was all but destroyed, barely holding the doors shut enough to stop the giant wolf from coming in, but only just. Griff stood silently in front of the mostly open doors, with no fewer than a dozen wolf corpses at his feet, standing in a puddle of orange blood that covered nearly half the floor.

Griff casually stepped over the bodies, black boots splashing in the gore beneath them as he walked up to the doors.

Reyland sprinted over, pausing to grab the discarded spear as he went. He reached Griff right as the man was about to step through the large opening between the two double doors.

Griff took in Reyland's wounded appearance in a heartbeat, before wordlessly turning back to the doors, lifting the beam out of the way by himself, and dropping it with a thunderous crash to the floor. He grabbed the edges of the doors and pulled them open wide, letting the torchlight pour in around them.

Reyland lost some of his confidence when he saw the beast on the other side. It was even larger than he had imagined it to be.

The black wolf that stared down at them was ten feet tall at the shoulder. Its head, if fully raised, would have been almost twice as tall as a grown horse. It was black, like the other wolves, but the fur around its neck was longer and shaggier, and ended in deep purple streaks that pulsed and glowed in the dark, just like the long trail of hair that hung off to the sides from its spine. Its lips were peeled back to reveal each and every one of its yellowish fangs, the largest of which were the size of Reylands forearms.

The beast was surrounded on all sides by dozens upon dozens of black cloaked riders, each with crossbows loaded and aimed at the beast. The Order members were fifty strong, at least, their faces distorted by the flickering of the torches they carried.

Griff strode out onto the steps of the church, hefting his greatsword over his shoulder with a single hand.

The gargantuan beast slowly turned to watch Griff, the dozens of crossbow bolts sticking out of its neck seeming not to even bother it. It was simply too large.

The bolt sticking out of its left eye though, that one seemed to bother it.

"...What did I tell you, beast?" Griff said, breaking the total silence in the clearing.

The beast, of course, stayed silent.

Reyland readied the spear in both hands, sheathing his shortsword at his hip. There was no chance he was getting close enough to this thing to ever hit it with a shortsword.

"It's about time this ends, don't you think?" Griff asked again, to no one in particular.

The sweat dripping down Reyland's back turned cold as the night breeze caught him, whipping the cloaks of everyone in the clearing into a frenzy and the fur of the wolf into a billowing wave.

The beast averted its eyes from Griff, sparing a glance down at Reyland instead. The apprentice's heart clenched, skipping a beat as the monstrosity of a beast in front of him held his gaze.

Those eyes are intelligent.

That was the only thought that Reyland had, and it terrified him. The gaze he saw wasn't that of a mindless beast. There was something... more behind it.

Somehow, that was more terrifying than the creature's size.

But right then, as the entire clearing held its breath, the creature burst into action.

Most of the Order fired their crossbows, as shouts filled the air at the beasts' surprising speed. For a creature that size to simply blur when it moved... it was beyond terrifying.

But the creature hadn't charged Griff, or Reyland. Or even any of the Order members. Instead, it turned, and in a single leap, cleared the ring of riders and their horses, landing in the clearing outside of their ring.

Horses panicked and nearly bucked their riders off as the wolf flew over their heads, but the wolf didn't spare them a second glance. It disappeared into the woods as a shadow, and in seconds, the beast was gone.

Reyland leaned back against the wall, before flopping his head back to hit against it in relief. He sighed, all the breath and strength leaving his body, and his grip on the spear loosened from the death grip he had held it in.

It was over.