The Night of the Wolves
Ever since that day, Philip demanded a spar every evening.
In truth, it was less a spar than him watching over my swordsmanship, correcting and guiding as we went.
It was the fourth night after the carriage had set out.
I was swinging the wooden practice sword as usual when Philip suddenly lowered his blade.
"That's enough for today."
"Huh?"
I tilted my head at the unusually early end to our session. Philip drew his iron sword instead. Startled, I stepped back—but his gaze wasn't on me at all.
"Monsters?" Ned asked, watching him.
Philip gave a quiet nod.
Ned rose, fashioning a torch from the campfire, and spoke to me without looking up.
"Get inside the carriage."
The atmosphere turned heavy in an instant. The cold wind sweeping through seemed to freeze everything around us.
I nodded, gathered my wooden sword, and headed for the carriage. Sinel, who had been riding inside, must have overheard the exchange outside; her face was tight with tension.
"W-what kind of monsters?"
"I'm not sure..."
I let the words trail off and peered out. Philip stood ready with his sword, Ned at his back holding the torch. No monsters were in sight yet. I was still frowning in confusion when the distant underbrush rustled—and a black shadow burst free.
The line of shadows kept coming without end. One after another they poured out after the first, a pack of wolves covered in gray fur.
I set the wooden sword aside and closed my hand around the hilt of my iron blade. The sheer size of the beasts made my body tense of its own accord. The cold wind, almost unnoticed, had already filled the air with the reek of the pack.
—Hiiiiiing!
The horses began to thrash at the wolves' appearance, but they were tethered to a thick tree and could not flee.
Even at a glance the pack numbered more than ten.
—Grrrrrr!
The wolves snarled threats and started closing in on the horses. In that same moment Ned pulled something from his coat and flung it around the carriage.
Thok— thok— thok—!
The scattered objects burst the instant they hit the ground, flaring with light and belching gray smoke. Whatever Ned had thrown, it clearly carried a scent the wolves hated. As the smoke rose, the beasts that had been advancing on the horses drew back.
I held my breath and studied Philip and Ned's faces. Their expressions were hard, yet the ease had not left them. Confidence radiated from both men—the quiet certainty that they could weather this danger.
"Sinel... the wolves are here."
"U-uuuh..."
She curled into herself at my words. Leaving her behind, I fixed my eyes on the two men facing the pack.
The wolves did not rush in. They circled Philip and Ned with careful steps, probing for an opening.
Then Philip moved.
He seemed to charge straight ahead—only to drop low and slide across the ground. I caught the glint of a stone he scooped up as he went.
The wolves took it as a signal and lunged from every side.
Philip swung without hesitation. His blade cracked through the air like a whip; the moment it grazed the lead wolf, the beast's head was half-severed.
—Kyaaang!
A belated scream tore free as crimson blood sprayed skyward. Philip's assault did not stop there. He closed on the faltering pack at once and swung again. Every time the pale moonlight flashed along his blade, another wolf fell.
He had dropped three when the smallest of the pack broke away and struck out on its own. It slipped past Philip and Ned and raced straight for the carriage. The two men trusted the gray smoke they had scattered and paid the lone wolf no mind.
But the small one never slowed. Closer and closer it came, its eyes locked on me where I hid inside the carriage.
I frowned as it charged. In the faint moonlight its face finally showed clear—the muzzle was crushed flat. No nose meant it likely could not smell a thing.
Thud— thud—!
It shot through the gray smoke at full speed. Just as I had guessed, the scent attack meant nothing to it.
Ned and Philip would not reach me in time. The distance was too great.
The thought had barely formed when something streaked from Philip's direction at terrifying speed.
Thwack—!
—Kang!
The wolf crumpled under the impact. A small stone lay nearby. Only then did I remember Philip scooping one up during that sliding charge. Had he planned for this exact moment?
Even so, the wolf staggered back to its feet. It looked dazed and furious, yet it still snarled and came for me, intent on tearing my throat out.
"That—that crazy little—!"
Ned's shout rang with shock. Philip's eyes had gone wide as well. But no further help would come from him; more wolves were already pouring toward him in a fresh wave.
I clenched my teeth and drew my sword.
Shhhrring—
The silver blade slid free with a chilling rasp. After so many days of nothing but wood, the weight of real steel felt alien in my grip.
"E-Emily!"
Sinel's scream-laced cry rose behind me. She had spotted the charging wolf as well.
I flung the scabbard aside and leapt from the carriage.
Thud— thud—!
The wolf closed the gap in a heartbeat. I had to swing—stop it with the blade. My mind knew it, yet my body refused to move. How often in a lifetime does one face a wild wolf? Something I had never even imagined was unfolding right in front of me.
Calm was impossible. My heart hammered as if it would burst; cold sweat poured down my back. Fear clung sticky and heavy around my ankles.
Then the wolf launched itself skyward. Its gaping jaws filled my vision.
Swing. When? Now? Or wait a fraction longer?
Thoughts tangled with every frantic beat of my heart—but the hesitation could not last.
"Ugh—!"
A short, scream-like shout tore free. My sword lashed out in a spasm, flying toward the beast. I could not tell if strength had truly gone into the blow. The instant steel met wolf, a massive weight slammed into my wrist. The unexpected rebound made the tip waver; the wolf's body glanced sideways.
Slash—!
—Kyaaang!
Hot blood sprayed across my face. The wolf landed trembling, crimson streaming from the wound. The blade had bitten deep after all.
I charged in a frenzy and swung again.
"Hyaaah!"
A breathless scream ripped from my throat. The shuddering wolf tried one last desperate snap of its jaws—only for my sword to drive straight into its mouth.
Crunch—!
What killed the wolf was no swordsmanship. My body, too wild with adrenaline to think, simply clubbed with the blade like a bludgeon.
Thud—! Thwack—!
I cut, struck, stabbed. Even after the beast on the ground had stopped moving I did not cease. Panting, I brought the sword down hard on its skull. That final blow ended it.
The sword slipped from my fingers. I gasped for air. Both hands convulsed so violently I could not have held a blade if I tried. Victory and the sheer relief of still being alive washed through me at once. The locked muscles finally loosened and I sank to the ground.
"Hah..."
Only then did the world around me come back into focus. As the frenzy ebbed, sensation returned to normal. The fight was already over. While I had been occupied with that single wolf, Philip and Ned had finished the rest of the pack.
They stood a short distance away, watching me as if waiting for the storm inside me to settle.
"Not bad."
Philip's voice broke the silence. A faint, subtle smile touched his lips.
I lifted a hand and wiped the blood from my face.
Once the danger had passed, Philip and Ned set about skinning the dead wolves. I stared blankly from inside the carriage until Sinel approached and pressed a small vial into my hand.
"This is...?"
"Your shoulder..."
"My shoulder?"
Only at her words did I notice the blood seeping from my shoulder. A claw must have grazed me while I was driving the blade into the wolf. The moment I registered the wound, a sharp sting bloomed.
The potion Sinel had given me erased the injury in an instant. I gaped at the miracle modern medicine could never hope to match. She smiled softly and stroked my hair.
"It's a potion I made."
After the wolf pack's assault, no further danger found us.
Ned handed me one of the pelts he had taken. Sinel used that wolf hide to sew me a perfectly fitted fur hood.
On the seventh day after leaving the village, we finally reached our destination—the capital city.
A long line of people waiting to enter stretched before the gates, and Ned's carriage had no choice but to join it.
"Looks like we won't get in until late evening," Ned muttered with a sigh, eyeing the endless queue.
Progress was painfully slow. I leaned out of the carriage and watched the surroundings. There were carriages far more luxurious than Ned's, and rough-looking bands of sword-for-hire as well. I had half-expected to spot mages by now, yet no one who looked the part appeared.
Time crawled until late evening finally arrived. Only then did Ned's carriage pass through the capital's main gate.