“You want me to salt these for you?” the woman asked, her brown eyes taking in the quantity of meat that Florian had brought her.

He nodded. “I’ve heard that you’re the best, and that your cut is the most reasonable. How much are you willing to do it for?”

Her response was immediate. “A quarter.”

“Done.”

A new record for speed of transaction, Florian left the small tent pleased with himself. A quarter of his stash was probably more meat than most would see in a year and was indeed more than Florian had eaten between Worldbreak and his first day as a Warrior. Still, the meat that last night had netted him was far too much for him to eat in a day, and without the electricity to drive refrigeration, Florian had to get it preserved somehow. Salted jerky strips sounded perfect, and they had the added benefit of being easily consumable while he kept watch at night.

Florian strode past the mass of people that went about their last business as the sun fell out of view. He even caught sight of one of his students, their gray robes distinguishing them from the average person despite the drab color. A few other Warriors, like him, pushed through the crowds like giants trying to part a sea. It was slow going, and Florian took a few elbows to the midsection, but he emerged at the gate no worse for wear. He saw Hornbeck there, talking with a group of veterans, their experience marked by the scars they wore on their faces.

Hornbeck nodded to him in greeting, returning to his conversation with gusto. Florian walked past and up the stairs, coming to stand on a stretch of wall that seemed clogged with Warriors. He hadn’t noticed the previous day, but there really were a lot of them up there.

And then the time for thinking was over. The first wolf howled, the answers of its brethren heralding the beginning of the night’s siege. Like the previous night, a mass of golden beasts barely illuminated by the moon surged forward from the tree line, crossing the distance in leaps and bounds. The first few collided with the gate, hard. Florian heard something – probably the gate – creak with great force, but nothing seemed to break. Then came the scratching, the claws sounding like fingernails on chalk to Florian.

Today, Florian saw how the wolves made it up to them. They didn’t just jump; no, they climbed their brethren and used them as launch points to fly ever higher. The wolf he been watching snarled at him, landing at his feet. Florian ended its life swiftly, rushing forward and bringing a mana-enhanced Bludgeon down on its head. The Hellwolf tried to dodge, but the wall was too narrow, and it slammed against it in its attempt. Black blood pooled on the wall, joining that of the other beasts that had been slain already that night.

Another wolf leapt over the wall, its trajectory in line with Florian. Florian sent a blade of wind through its midsection before it could complete its descent. The cries of battle grew ever louder, the sounds of rage mixing with those of monsters possessing otherworldly strength. The sounds of pain mixed with that of the Hellwolves’ final whimpers. This was hell.

A young Warrior a few feet away from him, about eighteen or nineteen by the look of him, screamed with all his might, stabbing his sword into the mouth of a gigantic Hellwolf. The sword snapped in two as the Hellwolf brought its teeth down on it. Florian saw the boy take a half-step backwards, stopping only because to step further was to fall three stories.

Sweeping Bludgeon around in a wide arc, replenishing the mana it consumed as it collided with his enemies, Florian massacred those monsters that had chosen to stand around him. Then, desperate to intervene, Florian shot out another windblade. It intercepted the monster about the eat the young Warrior, the mostly invisible attack taking the Hellwolf at the neck.

The young Warrior gaped at him, the wonder in his eyes lasting as long as it took for another wolf to soar over the walls and tear at the boy’s throat with pinpoint precision. Florian felt rage suffuse his body, and he wasn’t entirely himself when he maneuvered across the cobbled surface with far more ability than normal. Bludgeon tore a hole through the side of the Hellwolf, the scales cracking under the pressure. Florian lifted the blue weapon for another attack, eager to slay the monster, but he felt a sudden pressure in his shoulder before his could deliver the blow.

A wolf had gotten him from behind, clamping down on one of the more unarmored parts of Florian’s body. The bite hurt like all hell, though, and Florian had to muster every bit of calm within him to combat the pain and the anger. Slowly, an image of yet another wind blade entered his head, this one larger than even the previous one he’d created. It was overkill; this was a normal Hellwolf, but he needed this thing dead.

And die it did. Florian threw the monster off his shoulder, tearing his own flesh with the Hellwolf as he tore it away. A small price to pay, he thought to himself, as he bisected the wolf. In its final moments, the little beast howled more loudly than any of its compatriots. Swiftly, the push by the Hellwolves crumbled, the lizard-dogs retreating the way they came, which just so happened to be Florian’s direction. Cursing to himself, Florian held Bludgeon out in front of him, coating the weapon in blue. The weapon served as an improvised torch, illuminating the suddenly empty wall. Hornbeck took this as an opportunity, rushing to the walls with a cohort of lightly armed and armored men, taking a few men back with them down the walls. None of the men they took with them had so much as twitched. The young Warrior hadn’t even made a sound. There had been four of them.

“Round two!” Hornbeck called from below them. The old man couldn’t see anything, so how was it that he knew about the state of the siege? Were all the raids really this predictable?

To Hornbeck’s credit, it appeared that such was the case. The wolves resumed their assault in a swift manner, promising to take a few more of the castle’s defenders with them. It was a war of attrition and the Warriors weren’t winning.

Florian knew he had to try to change that; people around him were dropping like flies. Seeing that his area was close to empty, Florian made to sprint to the nearest group that needed his help. That opportunity would not come, as a shadow larger than any he’d seen belong to a Hellwolf obscured the moonlight for just a second before crashing onto the segment of wall in front of him.

Stones tumbled off the structure and into the writhing mass of Hellwolves below. Florian stared at his new enemy. It was a Hellwolf that stared back at him, but it was twice or three times the size of what Florian had considered a larger Hellwolf until them. He was staring at an entirely different level of enemy. Calming himself, Florian gathered his strength; he would need it.