The silence of the night was suffocating. Not a sound was to be heard. The nocturnal creatures that usually chirp merrily were nowhere to be seen, as if they were hiding, sensing the tension that was spreading everywhere.
The clouds moved slowly. Their flow seemed to have stopped, perhaps waiting for the inevitable collision, bracing themselves for whatever might unfold.
The wind blew fiercely, rustling through the leafless branches, carrying a chilling aura that enveloped the entire area.
Above all, a full moon hung low in the dark sky, its presence a silent witness, staring coldly down at the two large packs facing each other on the battlefield.
The Frostholm pack stood firm on the north side, their ranks tight and determined. Their sharp eyes stared ahead, fixed on the enemies who had caused them so much pain and suffering for so many years.
Usher personally led the Frostholm Pack, standing at the front with a straight posture and eyes full of determination. Beside him stood Garth, Cora, and Storm, ready to fight to the last breath.
Across from them, the Nimbria pack was equally prepared. They were led by their Alpha, Torin, who stood with a haughty aura and a malevolent expression. His eyes burned with hatred and promised vengeance for every death.
The two packs stared at each other intensely, not a word spoken. In the silence, they measured each other’s strength, calculating their chances of emerging victorious.
Every second seemed to drag on, time seemed to slow down. The longer it went on, the more the tension grew, weighing down the air until it became thick and oppressive.
Torin sneered contemptuously. Vione’s absence was the cause. “Of course. Usher wouldn’t risk the safety of his weak Luna.”
But Torin would make sure that all of Usher’s efforts to protect Vione were in vain. He would win this war and force Usher to witness Vione’s death.
One blow, two goals accomplished. Not only could Torin avenge the deaths of Bethany and Mireya, but he could also deal a crushing blow to Usher-forcing him to lose both his pack and the woman he loved.
The pleasing vision of Usher, devastated and drowning in grief, had filled Torin’s mind, igniting a sense of joy that demanded to be realised. His mind flared. Blood boiled. Then he raised his hand, his fist clenched tightly in the air, and his roar echoed thunderously.
The battle began. In an instant, their human forms began to shift. The sounds of breaking bones and stretching muscles filled the air. Their human forms vanished, replaced by their true forms-massive wolves with thick manes, sharp fangs and eyes glowing with terror.
The howls shattered the night and heralded war. As their wolf paws touched the ground, there was no hesitation.
Battle broke out. They charged at each other with full force. Claws slicing through the air, fangs gleaming in the light of the full moon. Screams and roars of fury filled the battlefield, mingled with the thunderous noise of the brutal clash.
Attack after attack was unleashed mercilessly. Bodies collided, were thrown and fell, shaking the earth. Blood splattered everywhere, bringing with it the metallic smell that served as a call for the arrival of the Grim Reaper.
Bodies began to fall from both sides. Some were wounded. Some managed to get up and fight on, but others couldn’t, they lay still on the ground, unmoving-dead.
The ground was littered with bodies. The horrifying sight only added to the tension, but it did nothing to dampen the fighting spirit of the wolves. On the contrary, the deaths of their enemies became fuel, fanning the flames of their ambition for victory.
The fire of battle burned in every remaining wolf. They howled, echoing their determination not to surrender, to fight on until victory was theirs.
Torin raged across the battlefield. His eyes burned with murderous intent. He ripped his enemies apart with sharp, powerful claws, attacking relentlessly with seething rage and hatred.
Blood stained Torin’s thick mane, but he cared not. He fought blindly, consumed by brutality, for this was the moment he had waited for all his life. Every Frostholm wolf that fell before him was but a stepping stone to his ultimate goal-Usher.
Torin stopped his attack. Ignoring the chaos of the battle around him, his thoughts were consumed by Usher. His eyes scanned the battlefield until they settled on Usher’s position.
Their gazes met. The long-awaited moment had arrived-the fight that would decide everything. Torin grinned, the desire for victory burning even brighter. Usher would fall. I will kill him.
With a roar of hatred, Torin lunged at Usher. His claws were outstretched, ready to tear into Usher’s flesh.
On the other hand, Torin’s attack seemed unable to shake Usher. He remained calm, radiating an aura of intimidation. He waited, as if he could predict every move Torin would make.
As Torin closed the distance, Usher dodged smoothly. His movements were agile and with a quick shoulder check he made Torin stumble.
Torin’s balance wavered. He staggered, but quickly regained his footing, his eyes now filled with seething rage.
Frustration roared in Torin’s chest. He lunged again, this time swinging his claws faster, sharper. But once again Usher dodged effortlessly, as if he had read Torin’s every move before it happened.
Rage pulsed through Torin’s veins. His attack had failed again and his concentration was faltering. He lost his balance for a moment and Usher seized the opportunity.
Usher lifted his claw high and struck Torin’s side with calculated precision. The blow was brutal and blood poured from the wound.
Torin howled in agony, his voice a mixture of pain and rage. But he did not surrender. On the contrary, his desire to kill Usher grew stronger. And so, he attacked again.
Torin’s jaw clenched as he focused all his energy on tearing Usher apart. But every time he got close, Usher met him with a deadly calm. Each of Usher’s moves, evasions and counter-attacks were executed with such precision that Torin’s efforts seemed futile.
Torin’s frustration boiled over. His desire to take Usher down quickly had come to a dead end. Worse, not only had he failed to kill Usher, he hadn’t even managed to injure him. Instead, it was Torin himself who was wounded.
*