Chapter Nine Arrival

No one in the caravan dared to let their guard down; the moment of life and death had arrived as they faced off against the surrounding wolves. No one could guarantee there would be no casualties, and tension immediately filled the air.

Belita quickly led her people to light bonfires around them. As the flames rose, everyone felt a little more at ease. Wolves were never easy to deal with, especially at night. With the firelight, the archers’ skills could finally be put to use.

“Stay sharp, these wolves are starting to edge closer,” Count Kreber observed that the wolves could no longer restrain themselves and were preparing to attack.

“Chip! Help me calibrate my target.”

“Beep! Combat assist activated, calibrating,” Hughes readied his bow, prepared to loose an arrow at any moment.

The wolves crept closer, their eyes glinting with ferocity.

“Chip! Scan how many wolves there are.”

“Beep! Scan complete: forty-seven in total.”

“Show me their attributes,” Hughes felt troubled at the number.

“Beep! Wild wolf. Strength: 1.2, Agility: 1.6, Constitution: 1.4, Status: Hungry.”
“Beep! Wild wolf. Strength: 1.1, Agility: 1.6, Constitution: 1.3, Status: Hungry.”
“Beep! Wild wolf. Strength: 1.5, Agility: 1.8, Constitution: 1.6, Status: Hungry.”
“...”
“Beep! Wild wolf. Strength: 2.4, Agility: 2.8, Constitution: 2.6, Status: Hungry.”

After seeing the data, Hughes had a rough estimate of their combat ability. However, the wolves at the back, whose stats all exceeded two, caught his attention.

“With strength and speed both over two, and with a build distinct from the others, that must be the wolf king,” Hughes thought, gazing at the larger wolf at the back, surrounded by a few others. These wolves were about one and a half meters tall, while the wolf king was over two meters.

The wolves steadily closed in. The soldiers gripped their swords tightly. With just over twenty soldiers against forty-seven wolves, their odds were good if they were careful enough.

A long howl pierced the night.

At the wolf king’s command, the wolves lunged at the caravan.

“Loose!” Count Kreber gave the order, and the archers released their arrows.

The soldiers, already prepared, fired their shots. Hughes aimed for a wolf’s eye and released his bowstring.

With a whistle, the arrow pierced through a wolf’s eye and, bolstered by immense strength, tore through its body.

Even Hughes was startled by the power of his own shot, but with his strength at 3.6, it made sense. He realized just how deadly an archer could be.

“It seems I should practice archery more often. With the chip’s assistance, if not a guaranteed kill, at least my aim is flawless,” Hughes thought as he nocked another arrow.

“Hughes, let’s work together and take down the wolf king first,” Count Kreber had also spotted the wolf king and, recognizing the force of Hughes’s shot, decided to strike at the heart.

“Very well, Father. Don’t worry.” Hughes understood the plan. Though the wolf king was at the rear, which meant plunging into the thick of danger, it was the best strategy.

The soldiers, protected by leather armor, suffered few injuries, but the sheer number of wolves made the fight difficult.

“Help me! Save me! Save—” The cry was cut short.

Hearing the shout, Hughes turned to see two wolves circling a soldier whose throat had been torn open. The man lay on the ground, eyes wide with terror, blood gushing forth and staining the wolves red. The heavy scent of blood filled the camp.

Two arrows flew from Hughes’s bow, instantly felling the beasts.

Meanwhile, Count Kreber, with Belita and two others, reached the wolf king.

Sensing the pressure from Count Kreber, the wolf king hesitated, fear flickering in its eyes.

“Belita, block its escape! Don’t let that beast get away,” Count Kreber ordered, having seen the wolf king’s intent.

Belita and the others surrounded the wolf king.

A howl summoned the pack to the wolf king’s aid.

“Attack!” At Count Kreber’s command, he and Belita thrust their swords at the wolf king.

But the wolf king, cunning as ever, realized it could not win and tried to flee into the pack.

A sword pierced a wolf’s body—but not the king’s.

“After it!” Count Kreber pursued; ordinary wolves were no match for him.

From atop the carriage, Hughes had already noticed the wolf king’s intent to escape, but with its agility at 2.8, it would be difficult to hit. He fired several arrows, but none found their mark.

“Chip! Predict the wolf king’s next move.”

“Beep! Predicting next position. The optimal time for the host to shoot will be in seven seconds.”

Hughes received the chip’s information, nocked an arrow, and silently counted: “Five, six, seven—now!”

The arrow flew straight at the wolf king. Just as the wolf king reached the spot, it sensed danger and tried to accelerate, but Hughes’s arrow struck its foreleg, pinning it to the ground with tremendous force. The wolf king struggled to its feet, limping, but Count Kreber and Belita had already reached it.

The wolf king let out a mournful cry, facing the two of them, knowing its end had come.

Without hesitation, Count Kreber swung his sword and severed the wolf king’s head.

“At last, this beast is slain,” Count Kreber said, glancing at the arrow in the wolf king’s body and then at Hughes atop the carriage.

Hearing the wolf king’s last anguished cry and seeing its lifeless form, the remaining wolves began to retreat.

One wolf dashed into the dark grasslands, and with a leader, the others soon followed. Only a dozen or so remained, most having been slain by the soldiers.

“Count, what about the rest of these wolves?”

“Let them go. There’s no need to chase,” Kreber said with a wave of his hand.

He turned to survey the devastated camp, the corpses of wolves strewn everywhere, the air thick with the smell of blood.

“Belita, take your men and check for the wounded. The rest, prepare the carriages at once. We must leave quickly, or this blood will draw more beasts,” Count Kreber commanded.

“Yes, my lord!” The camp became a flurry of activity, and soon the carriages were moving again, slowly advancing by moonlight.

“My lord, the casualties have been tallied,” Belita reported, standing beside Count Kreber and Hughes.

“Read them.”

“We lost six men. Two are seriously wounded, the rest have only minor injuries and we suffered no major losses.”

“So be it. Record the names of the six who died, and ensure their families are well cared for once we return.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Also, tell everyone to stay alert. In three days, we’ll be out of these Duskfall Plains. Remain vigilant at all times.”

“I’ll see to it, my lord. I won’t disturb you and Young Master Hughes any further,” Belita said, bowing before leaving the carriage.

“Father, I’ll take my leave as well. Rest well.”

“All right, you rest too.” Count Kreber sighed.

Hughes returned to his carriage, unable to sleep. The battle had left his nerves on edge. He climbed atop his carriage to watch the rising sun, a sudden clarity filling his heart.

“Beep! Detected slight fluctuations in host’s mental strength. Mental strength has increased by 0.3.”

“Beep! Hughes Bruch: Strength: 3.6, Agility: 4.0, Constitution: 4.0, Mental Strength: 2.5, Status: Healthy.”

“Hm?” Hughes was surprised by the data.

“How did my mental strength increase? I still don’t understand how to use it,” he mused, still uncertain of its purpose.

“It seems, as the chip said, I’ll have to meet a wizard to find out,” he sighed.

Day after day passed, and since the wolf attack, the caravan encountered no serious danger. Several times, Belita handled threats singlehandedly.

By dusk, the carriages finally emerged from the edge of the Duskfall Plains.

“Young Master Hughes, we’ve exited the plains. By tomorrow afternoon, we’ll reach Soto City,” Belita reported, clearly in better spirits.

“Good. Let’s go a bit farther. Since we’re not far from Soto City, perhaps there are settlements nearby. We might finally rest properly tonight.”

“Yes, Young Master Hughes.”