Now…
The surprise attack from the elit warriors of the Nimbria Pack brought about a significant change in the battle. The Frostholm Pack’s tight formation began to unravel as their warriors struggled to cope with the relentless, unexpected attacks of the Nimbria warriors. The speed and agility of the elit Nimbria warriors made their attacks difficult to predict, causing confusion among the Frostholm pack.
The pressure continued. The surprise attack continued to push the Frostholm pack back. The elit Nimbria warriors encircled the Frostholm warriors in an unyielding ring, restricting their movement by closing in and shrinking the space in which they could fight.
The Frostholm pack was increasingly cornered. Two attacks from opposite sides pinned them down. They couldn’t do much. They couldn’t attack freely, and they couldn’t escape. All they could do was defend themselves as best they could.
On the other side, the Nimbria pack became even more ferocious. Their motivation to fight increased with time. The chaos of the Frostholm Pack fueled their spirits even more, especially as Torin continued to howl, spurring them on to fight with even more blind fury.
The Nimbria Pack began to feel that they had the upper hand. They had dominated the flow of the battle, and the Frostholm Pack looked increasingly helpless. The Frostholm Pack could only hang on, and in the minds of their enemies it was only a matter of time before the battle would end in their victory.
But the Frostholm Pack showed remarkable resilience. They seemed to ignore the fact that their situation was getting worse-their attack area was shrinking, and they couldn’t use their usual strategies.
Storm howled, instructing the warriors to protect the critical points of their formation and ensure that the Nimbria Pack couldn’t intimidate them any further. A little longer, a little longer.
The Frostholm Pack held out. They continued their efforts until the moment came when the elite warriors of the Nimbria Pack’s circle were finally disturbed.
The cause was a fleeting black shadow that moved incredibly fast from behind the shadows of the great trees. It struck a elite warrior of the Nimbria Pack’s and then vanished. As the elite warrior turned to locate it, another black shadow unexpectedly lunged at him from behind.
The focus of the Nimbria elite warriors broke. They realised that their enemies had grown. The Frostholm Pack had received unexpected reinforcements whose locations were unknown to them.
These reinforcements appeared and disappeared like ghosts. They ambushed, attacked, and disappeared. This pattern of attack infuriated the Nimbria Pack.
Nimbria’s strategy began to unravel. Gaps began to appear in the encircling circle of the elite warriors. Their attacks weakened as the shadows successfully confused them, allowing the Frostholm warriors to pick them off one by one.
Torin growled. He watched the state of his elite warriors and cursed inwardly. Damn it! Frostholm had a contingency plan after all. Bastards!
Torin thought his plan was perfect. He had considered every possible scenario, and Frostholm’s backup plan had never crossed his mind. He had made sure that Usher had used Frostholm’s best warriors. Storm and Alvin were in the fight, as were Garth and Cora. Logically, there should have been no other forces on which Frostholm could rely, and the war should have ended as he had planned.
But what was happening on the battlefield made no sense at all. The Nimbria formation was in chaos. Their strategy was unravelling under the attacks of Frostholm’s mysterious wolves. Torin’s cunning was met with equally cunning tactics.
How could other warriors join the fight? Torin wondered silently. His eyes swept the battlefield, searching for answers. Then he saw the mysterious wolves moving with astonishing speed and agility. Who exactly were they? And who was leading them?
A long howl from the hill answered Torin’s question. He turned to see that it was Vione leading the movements of Frostholm’s mysterious warriors.
Torin was stunned, overcome with emotion. How could it be? How could a weak Omega like her lead such a mysterious attack?
It seemed utterly impossible, unimaginable. But the reality before him told a different story, and Torin’s curses grew more intense. Now he wanted nothing more than to kill Vione.
With a howl, Torin ordered his warriors to continue fighting. He paid no attention to their struggle and had no intention of helping them. Instead, he ran, his aim the hill where Vione stood. But a sudden lunge sent his body hurtling several metres through the air.
Usher had easily guessed Torin’s intentions. So, he acted immediately. He would not allow Torin to approach Vione, let alone harm her.
A loud thud echoed as Torin’s body hit the ground. He grimaced in pain and tried to get up, his mane stained with dust and scattered earth.
Torin let out a low growl. His paws steadied him, but suddenly Usher was in front of him before he could take another step. He saw Usher’s golden eyes blazing with anger, the moonlight reflecting a terrifying glint in them.
The two large wolves faced each other. Their eyes locked, neither backing down.
Torin’s growl grew louder, creating a reverberation that shook the night air. Then, without warning, they lunged at each other, their force shaking the ground.
Torin aimed his sharp claws at Usher’s side. But Usher turned quickly, parrying the attack with remarkable agility.
The crackling sound of claws scraping against mane and skin echoed. Attack after attack followed, the force of their blows almost equal, causing the ground around them to tremble.
Torin and Usher were both thrown to opposite sides. The heavy impact caused pain in their bodies, but they rose to their feet with a steady stance. They clashed again, and it was then that Usher noticed something-Torin’s breathing had become erratic.
Usher narrowed his eyes. He watched Torin’s every move carefully. Calm and composed, he met Torin’s attacks not only with strength but also with cunning.
Torin began to tire. Perhaps one reason for this was the large wound he had received from his earlier fight with Usher. The wound continued to bleed, slowly draining his strength. In other words, he was now fighting with what was left of his strength.
You’ve already lost, Torin, Usher muttered inwardly with certainty. His eyes spotted an opening and he moved quickly.
Usher’s movement was truly amazing. His body was like an inescapable black shadow. He attacked with full force, sinking his teeth deep into Torin’s neck, pressing until he could feel the warm blood flowing between his fangs.
Torin howled in pain. He struggled, his claws desperately trying to grip Usher anywhere they could. Unfortunately, this only made his condition worse.
Usher growled louder. He clenched his jaws, feeling every muscle in Torin’s neck tighten under his bite, urging him to sink his teeth deeper.
Usher’s jaws tightened. Blood poured more heavily between his teeth, filling the air with a sharp metallic smell.
Torin tried to strike Usher with his claws, but his movements grew weaker, losing their power. Worse, every time he tried to lift his body to break free, Usher pressed down harder, ensuring that there was no room for him to escape.
The pressure increased. Usher could feel the flesh beneath his bite tearing further, and with it Torin’s howls faded, replaced by muffled moans. Each remaining breath in Torin’s body sounded like a last murmur before total destruction arrived moments later.
With a rough, forceful jerk, Usher tore deeper until he felt Torin’s neck bone begin to crack between his jaws. Torin’s wild eyes began to lose their light and his consciousness slowly faded.
Usher didn’t stop there. He crushed Torin’s throat with his bite, making sure that no trace of life remained.
Finally, Torin’s body went completely limp and the thrashing stopped. His heavy breathing became a murmur, barely audible. His blood flowed freely onto the ground, which still shook from the intensity of the battle.
Usher ended it all with one last move. He bit down hard on Torin’s neck until it twisted to the opposite side, severing every remaining nerve, and stopping the already weakening heartbeat.
Torin’s body stopped moving. His breathing stopped. His heartbeat stopped. And his eyes, now empty, showed no sign of life.
Torin was dead, and Usher slowly released his bite. The fur around his mouth was soaked with blood, and he stood over Torin’s body.
Usher’s sharp gaze swept the battlefield. Then he let out a long howl.
The battle stopped. All eyes turned to the same place-Usher standing over Torin’s lifeless body.
The Nimbria pack froze. Torin’s death had left them completely motionless. They had been completely defeated, and now there was nothing more they could do. Frostholm did not waste the moment.
The spirits of the Frostholm warriors burned even brighter. Usher’s victory over Torin drove them to fight harder. They continued their attack until every Nimbria warrior was subdued.
The battle was over. The victory belonged to Frostholm. But Usher knew it wasn’t really the end.
Usher’s howl echoed, his eyes glowing with unwavering determination. He had made a promise. I must finish this. I won’t give them the chance to do this again.
Usher’s command was met with the enthusiastic howls of Frostholm’s warriors. Then, together, they charged into Nimbria’s territory. They would finish it all-leave nothing behind.
*