Usher’s body rose up and hit the window. Then he was thrown out of The Palace and landed heavily in the palace garden. He groaned in pain as he struggled to get up, his legs unsteady. The battle was clearly far from over.
The wolves leapt out of The Palace and ran toward Usher, who had only a few seconds to prepare.
Usher knew that this was an impossible fight for him to win. His situation was dire, especially now. He was not only facing the guards of the Nimbria Pack, but also warriors led by Torin himself.
Torin’s howl broke the silence of the night. He commanded the warriors of the Nimbria Pack, and the wolves growled and ran with even more vigor. Their sole purpose was to compete to bite Usher’s neck until it was severed.
Usher prepared. His claws dug into the ground as he took aim. And as the wolves approached, he leaped. He attacked without fear.
Usher’s first move was to thrust his claws at the nearest wolf. But the wolf quickly dodged, and the fight resumed.
The wolves attacked Usher en masse, not giving him a chance to counterattack. For a few moments, Usher could only move to avoid the wolves’ attacks without being able to retaliate.
Usher growled as a wolf managed to bite the back of his body. He endured the pain, then threw the wolf away with all his might. The wolf flew and collided with several of his companions.
There was a brief respite for Usher to take advantage of. He took a deep breath and quickly assessed the situation. He didn’t feel the pain of the wounds all over his body. He paid no attention to the blood that continued to flow. Only one thing was on his mind: he had to defend the Palace of the Frostholm Pack, no matter what, even if it meant sacrificing his life.
Usher howled long and loud. Then he prepared to attack again. But suddenly there was a howl that echoed his earlier one. He turned and saw many familiar silhouettes in the darkness of the night.
As time passed, the silhouettes became clearer. They were wolves Usher knew well. In front was Storm, leading the pack. With him were Cora and Berg.
Usher could hardly believe what he saw. Cora and the others were approaching him. The three of them took up positions around Usher, as if to signal that they would never leave him, no matter what.
Usher knew that even though he was no longer alone in the fight, the Frostholm Pack’s chances of victory remained slim. But at least now he knew he wouldn’t fight alone. It fueled his spirit like oil fuels a fire. He would fight to the end.
Usher’s howl echoed through the air. In response, the wolves of the Frostholm pack charged forward, attacking the wolves of the Nimbria pack. They leapt, clawed, and bit. The battle erupted into chaos.
The situation was far from easy for the Frostholm pack, however. They were outnumbered, and the Nimbria Pack had prepared their attack as well as they could. They were not an easy opponent to defeat. Usher and his wolves had to use all their skills and strength to defend themselves and then counterattack.
The battle intensified. Blood flowed around them, staining the green grass and seeping into the earth.
Usher felt a jolt when his claws were grazed by the attacks of the enemy wolves, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He continued to fight with his breath racing and his eyes burning. With quick and precise movements, he blocked the enemy’s attacks and retaliated with equally deadly strikes. He leapt into the air and attacked from above, trying to take down his opponents one by one.
A howl made Usher stop his attack. He turned to find Cora lying helpless. Cora tried to get up, but one of her legs couldn’t support her weight and appeared to be broken.
Storm came to Cora’s aid at just the right moment. However, it came at a cost to Storm, as the Nimbria Pack’s lead warrior had been targeting him the entire time. A powerful bite landed on Storm’s neck, tearing at his flesh.
Cora howled. The rage was evident in her howl as she ignored the pain in her leg. She lunged at the wolf. But the other wolves weren’t standing still and rushed Cora, who was already defenseless.
Usher jumped. He threw the wolves away from Cora. But it was too late. Cora was no longer moving. Cora had joined Storm in taking her last breath.
Usher’s breath felt heavy. He sniffed at Cora and Storm, trying to find signs of life, but there were none. Cora and Storm were really gone.
Usher’s legs trembled. He stepped back, rejecting the painful reality. It was impossible for him to lose his trusted companions in such a tragic way within twenty-four hours.
Usher was startled by Berg’s howl. He prepared to jump, but suddenly his legs couldn’t move. The sight drained his strength. Berg was overpowered and couldn’t save himself. Berg’s body was torn apart until it was unrecognizable.
But it didn’t stop there. The wolves of the Frostholm Pack fell one by one. They collapsed to the ground in a horrible state. Wounds covered their bodies and blood flowed freely. Slowly, they became lifeless.
Not only was the Frostholm Pack backed into a corner, but there was little hope for them to continue fighting. The specter of defeat loomed large. Usher could do nothing. He was the only one left with the wolves, whose numbers were dwindling.
The scent of despair began to fill the air, followed by the suffocating aura of death. Frankly, Usher didn’t want to succumb to pessimism, but there was nothing else they could do. The pressure from the Nimbria pack was increasing, pushing them further into a corner.
There were little the remaining wolves of the Frostholm Pack could do. They were badly injured and unable to continue the fight. Meanwhile, Usher tried to hold on as best he could, even though the pressure from all sides was making him weaker.
Finally, Usher couldn’t hold on any longer. He collapsed in the middle of the battlefield. His body was covered in countless wounds, and his spirit was nearly broken. Now there was nothing left for him to do but look around. He saw his wolves lying motionless on the ground, covered in blood.
*