The battle raged on. The Frostholm pack continued to hold their ground, using every method possible to repel the attacks of the Nimbria pack. They fought on, even as wave after wave of attack washed over them like a never-ending tide, threatening to drain their strength until there was nothing left.
The cold night air became hot with the smell of blood and smoke. Every breath felt heavy, filled with the scent of death that lingered in the air. The ground beneath their feet shook from the clash of claws and bodies. The roars and screams could be heard everywhere, creating a terrifying and heartbreaking symphony that reminded them that every misstep would lead to death.
The eyes of the Frostholm wolves shone with rage and deepening despair. They were pushed to their limits, but they stood firm. They continued to scratch and bite at the enemies attacking from all sides.
The determination to defend the border erased any sense of fatigue or pain. They might be at the limit of their strength, but they would not give up.
Amidst the flames that lit up the battlefield, they looked at each other. They drew strength from each other with whatever courage they had left. They had to hold on even as fear crept in; they might not be able to fight until dawn.
The grim possibility spurred them on. If they couldn’t hold out until morning, they would have to finish as quickly as possible. They had to stop the attack of the Nimbria pack as soon as possible.
The Frostholm wolves ran, leaped, and maneuvered across the battlefield, using all of their skills. Howls of command and angry roars echoed through the burning trees, creating a terrifying chorus of adrenaline and fear.
On the other side, the Nimbria pack fought with extraordinary ferocity. They seemed to be driven by a deep hatred and ambition to destroy everything in order to conquer the Frostholm Pack.
The Nimbria pack’s attacks were relentless. Every time a line of Frostholm wolves managed to hold their position, the next wave of attacks came with greater force.
In an instant, a Nimbria wolf with sharp fangs and glowing red eyes charged a small group of Frostholm wolves trying to defend a weak point in the west. A fierce battle ensued. Fangs met fangs, claws tore through flesh, and blood spilled to the ground.
In the midst of the chaos, several Frostholm wolves looked toward the crumbling defenses. They snarled and clung to a slim hope, determined to push back the Nimbria pack no matter what.
Meanwhile, the tension inside Frostholm Keep was palpable. The normally sturdy stone walls seemed to echo with fear, reflecting the uncertainty that enveloped its inhabitants. Everyone was in a panic. Most began to evacuate, preparing for the worst-case scenario. Others stayed behind to protect the palace, the symbol of Frostholm’s glory.
In his office with Graham, Kendrick stood by a large window overlooking the border. His gaze was focused on the night, filled with smoke and flames. Though he was far from the battlefield, every attack on his pack felt like a direct blow to his chest.
“Any news from the border?”
Graham replied, “We’re still able to hold our ground and fend off the Nimbria attacks, but we can’t take any chances. Their attack is brutal and well-coordinated, more than we expected.”
Kendrick paused and took a deep breath before speaking. “We can’t keep doing this. If they break through the defenses on the east side, we’ll be trapped. We have to break their attack.”
“According to the latest reports, Ivan has ordered reserve forces to stand by on the north side. But if they attack from two directions at once, then-”
Graham’s words were cut short as the door swung open. Jemma entered quickly, her steps urgent and her expression a mixture of concern and unwavering determination.
“Jemma!” Kendrick exclaimed in shock. He rushed to her, his surprise evident. “Why are you still here? You should have gone with Usher. The situation is dire.”
Jemma nodded. “I know, Kendrick. I understand that we are in a desperate situation and that is why I am doing my duty as a Luna. I must stand by you. I will not leave.”
Turmoil raged in Kendrick’s mind. His eyes betrayed his fear, but Jemma’s resolve was unshakable.
“I have heard of the situation. We can’t let them cross the border,” Jemma said bluntly. “It might be best if we use the palace guard, Kendrick. Everyone has been evacuated, and the only way to protect the palace is to hold the perimeter.”
Kendrick nodded, acknowledging the truth of her words, though it was painful to admit. Jemma’s presence gave him a rare peace in the midst of the crisis. His determination to protect the pack burned more fiercely. “We’ll take the risk.” He turned to Graham. “Lead the palace guard to the east side. Proceed with caution. Make sure the Nimbria pack does not detect our movement. If we can divert their attention, we may be able to ambush them from behind.”
Graham nodded and immediately set out to carry out the orders. He led the attack with precision, making sure there were no mistakes. His movements were calculated, each step reflecting meticulous planning and accuracy.
Thoughtful strategy combined with precise execution. The wolves of Nimbria believed they had successfully breached the Frostholm border. But the situation turned out the other way. The Nimbria pack was deceived by Frostholm’s desperate defenses. They continued to attack, only to be met by Graham and his forces. The Nimbria attack was suppressed.
Relief washed over the Frostholm pack. The fear that had haunted them was suddenly gone. But Kendrick knew it was not all over.
That morning, Kendrick resumed his talks with Graham. He would not remain passive in the face of Nimbria’s attack.
“They must face the consequences for daring to disturb the peace of Frostholm,” Kendrick vowed fiercely. His face showed uncontrollable rage. “What about our preparations?”
Graham replied, “Everything is in place, Alpha. Ivan and his forces are fully prepared.”
*