TUK 26

Chapter 26

From roughly a hundred and fifty paces to the northwest, a chilling frost began to creep across the open clearing.

Normally, to feel this kind of cold in the Frozen Mountains, one would have to climb much higher.
Yet that cold wind carried itself down — reaching Rian and the disciples of Sion as they hid, crouched atop two trees.

They felt it then — a sense of dread.

‘This might be bad.’

Rian was reminded of a time long ago, before the war — when he’d joined a subjugation expedition to hunt down a pack of Frostfang Wolves that had descended from the Frozen Mountains.

In harsh winters, when prey was scarce, those beasts would sometimes gather in packs and descend below the snowline.
That time, there had been over a hundred of them — and when that many gathered, they emitted a mist of freezing air just like this.

Of course, if they fought together with Sion’s disciples, even a pack that size wouldn’t be much of a challenge.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud…

Now, however, a massive black silhouette loomed through the mist — towering and hulking.
A troll.

And not just that.

Shorter by about two heads but unmistakably lupine — a werewolf’s head came into view.

A pack of bipedal lycanthropes mixed among the Frostfang Wolves’ mist.

“This looks like some kind of monster convention,” Taerin muttered, his tone joking — but his stiff expression betrayed the tension he felt at the surreal sight before them.

The others were no different.
Even from a distance, it was clear: hundreds of monsters moved across the frost-laden clearing.

“We have to fall back. Now,” said Fine, breaking the silence with a sober tone.

“This has to be the work of cultists. If they can pull off something like this, we’re not just dealing with some common dark mage… The Knight Order needs to intervene.”

She pointed straight ahead.

Where she gestured — humans stood.

“Look there. Imperial elites.”

They could tell from the glint of armor through the fog and the way sunlight reflected off their equipment.

“Don’t tell me… they retreated just to join forces with a black mage? Damn it! If I’d known that, I should’ve chased them down and wiped them out!”
Dominic spat, gripping his sword tighter, fury written all over his face.

“Fine’s right,” Berkir said firmly. “We should return and report this. At this rate, they’ll march all the way to Northheim.”

Everyone agreed.
Rian did, too.

‘There’s no helping it.’

The wide clearing ahead — bathed in what little sunlight there was — was slowly being tainted by creeping frost.

The monsters were within a hundred paces now.

Watching the Imperial soldiers leading them brought to Rian’s mind an old story — the tale of the Pied Knight.

A wandering knight, it was said, had once used a magic flute to lure away thousands of blood-drinking rats that had attacked a village — leading them into a pit of molten iron to burn them alive.

‘A flute imbued with a charm spell, wasn’t it?’

A fairytale, really.

He still remembered the silly “truth” a village kid had told him afterward.

“You know what? They say the knight staged the whole thing himself!
He sold his soul to a demon for that flute — and it was him who released the vampire rats in the first place! All just to marry the mayor’s daughter!”

It had sounded absurd back then — but now, seeing this…

‘Maybe it wasn’t a fairy tale after all.’

Before him, it really did look as if Imperial soldiers were driving the monsters forward — like puppeteers leading beasts.

Either way, a decision had to be made.

“What are your orders?”
Rian asked Leia, who stood at their center. Everyone’s gaze turned to her — awaiting her decision.

“We retreat,” Leia said flatly.

It was the only realistic choice.
No matter how gifted they were — no matter that they were Sion’s disciples — they weren’t knights yet.

A troll or lycanthrope alone was a high-tier monster.
Facing them together in numbers like this would be suicide.

Everyone agreed — they descended quietly from the trees.

But there was a problem.

The sacred relic Emilio carried was still drawing the monsters toward them.

None of them, not even Rian, had realized it — until too late.

By the time they noticed the pack of lycanthropes closing in — ten of them — it was already too late.

“What the hell?!” Dominic cursed, sword flashing up as the beasts lunged.

“Their stench filled the air — no wonder we missed the ones circling behind us,” Fine hissed, drawing her own thinner blade. “Looks like Taerin was right. The monsters are throwing a feast tonight.”

“It’s their stealth,” Leia said calmly. “Lycanthropes can mask their presence — and their sense of smell is sharp enough to find us. They’ve been stalking us quietly for a while now.”

Her words, meant to reassure Fine, earned a faint smirk from the latter.

“If they’re bold enough to come for us, they’ve hunted humans before! Stay sharp!” Berkir shouted.

Now, the lycanthropes were within twenty paces.

Grrrrr!

The beasts growled, low and guttural.

‘The Pied Knight…’
The story still lingered in Rian’s mind — even as the first two lycanthropes charged.

One foamed at the mouth, saliva dripping between its bared fangs.
The other raised a massive claw — blades of bone flashing in the cold light.

Whoosh!

Rian spun, turning his back deliberately — using the pack he carried to block the strike.

Crack!

The lycanthrope’s claws raked across the pack first.

Crunch!

The second beast bit down hard on the same target.

The heavy pack was torn apart between them — but the tough hide and reinforced lining held just long enough.

That was Rian’s plan.

Whump.

Before the pack could split completely, Rian twisted aside — stepping in close beside the beast that had bitten it.

‘Let’s see if this works.’

He brought his sword down in a vertical arc — straight for its neck.

Crack!

The thick fur didn’t let the blade cut through — but the force shattered bone.

The lycanthrope’s head snapped back and slammed into the ground.

A good hit — but no time to breathe.

ROAR!

Another one lunged, jaws wide.

Rian thrust his blade upward — point-first into its chin.

Thud!

The sword pierced through, driving up to the bridge of its nose.

Even so — a lycanthrope doesn’t die just because you stab its face.

Wham!

The creature roared, seizing Rian’s waist with both hands — squeezing with crushing force.

“Urgh!!”

Pain exploded through his chest. He heard ribs snap — crack, crack.
He could almost feel the bone pierce inward, could almost imagine his own guts bursting up through his throat.

Death flashed in his mind.

But death, it seemed, wasn’t ready to take him yet.

“AAAHHH!!”

At the brink of death, his body surged — strength flooding through every muscle.

He had to live.

Shrrk!

Gripping his sword tight, Rian pulled — splitting the lycanthrope’s muzzle in half.

Its grip faltered for an instant.

That was all he needed.

‘Focus your will. Into your arms.’

“Cut!”

Slice!

He swung horizontally — the blade cleaving through the beast’s neck in one stroke.

White light — the light of Will — flared along his arms.

He looked around quickly — to see how the others were faring.

“Phew… as expected.”

They all shone with the same light of Will.

Berkir, Leia, and Fine glowed brightest — Taerin and Dominic’s light fainter, but still visible.

It gave him a sense of their strength.

“Ricky! You all right? Looked rough for a second there!”
Berkir called out as he approached, having just ripped two lycanthropes apart himself. The white glow still shimmered faintly from his body.

“Just got caught for a moment. I’m fine.”
Rian forced a calm tone, though pain wracked his insides — his ribs shattered, his organs torn.

Already, his regenerative gift — the Undying — was working frantically to mend him.

Still, Berkir’s worried eyes made him uneasy.

‘He won’t notice… right?’

He quickly looked away — pretending to scan the battlefield.

Leia and Fine had already dispatched the two lycanthropes that had attacked them — cutting out both hearts and heads.

They now joined Taerin and Dominic, helping finish off the remaining four.

Then Rian remembered something — the real threat.

He turned — gesturing sharply toward the distance.

Toward the Imperial elites approaching through the mist with their horde of monsters.

The noise here had surely drawn their attention by now.

“We have to move! If we’re surrounded—”

He didn’t finish.

‘Ah…’

Just as he feared, the heavy thud of massive beasts shook the ground.

The Frostfang Wolves charged — swift and many, sweeping through the forest.
Among them, the lycanthropes ran.
The trolls, meanwhile, skirted away from the Imperials, forming a wall as they advanced — like a moving barricade of flesh and stone.

They’d be trapped if they didn’t flee now.

But that wasn’t what froze Rian’s tongue.

‘What… is that?’

Just before the trolls blocked their view — he saw it.

A pulse of malicious energy, gray and heavy, spreading outward from the figure leading the Imperial formation — staining the air itself.

It wasn’t like any aura monsters gave off.

“Ricky! What are you doing?!”
Berkir’s voice shouted from behind — already backing away with the others.

Rian didn’t hear him.

His eyes were locked on that spreading gray mist — unfurling like wings around the Imperial soldiers, forming a protective half-circle.

‘Suspicious…’

It almost looked as if anything inside that gray barrier was immune to the monsters’ attacks.

Rian took a step forward — toward the advancing horde.

“The Pied Knight…” he murmured.

Maybe — if he could take down the figure at the center of that gray mist — he could end all this.

If they retreated now, the situation might spiral beyond control.

Fwoosh!

Rian broke into a sprint — charging headlong into the tide of monsters.

“Rian!!! What the hell are you doing?!”
“Hey! Are you insane?!”
“Shit! What’s wrong with him?!!”

Berkir, Taerin, and Dominic all shouted in panic — but Rian didn’t look back.