The most terrifying nights are also the quietest.
In the darkness, Rein seemed to hear strange sounds—pained howls like those of canines, and the clanging of metal against walls. Sensing something was wrong, he forced himself awake, though his eyes kept resisting, wanting to shut. He pulled the staff from his clothes. Only when he gripped it fully did he realize it was sized for his old habits. Now, it felt like a short sword in his hands, so he held it with both.
The campfire was nearly out. The spare firewood beside it lay untouched. Sophia was gone—she’d left some time ago. Sounds of combat at the cave entrance immediately caught Rein’s attention.
He crept carefully to the opening. By the bright moonlight, he saw Sophia in the snow. Blood covered her arms and face like ketchup stains. At her feet lay several lifeless white wolf corpses.
“Detection Spell.”
He silently chanted the incantation. Now he fully grasped the scene: about sixteen white wolves total. Five lay dead at Sophia’s feet, but they’d already left her breathing heavily. Continuing like this was only a matter of time.
The wolves clearly knew she was alone. After sacrificing five, the rest began rotating attacks. They avoided direct clashes, ambushing when possible. This tactic worked better than frontal assaults.
To Rein’s eyes, a golden halo-like ring of fate lines circled above Sophia’s head. But now, faint traces of black appeared—a sign her life neared its end. Unlike life lines, fate lines were reversible.
Rein also noticed white fate lines on the wolves, all identical. So animals had them too… He scanned the pack. One aura stood out—strong, dominant. Likely the alpha. But pinpointing it was hard. The wolves’ sizes were nearly identical, and their chaotic auras confused his Detection Spell.
*Should I intervene?*
With Sophia buying time, he could cast wide-area attack magic. But problems arose. First, she was a Vindictive Knight—her stance on Mages was unclear. Second, anyone with basic magic knowledge knew wide-area spells were third-tier. A twelve-year-old girl wielding a homemade staff to cast such magic? Even Rein couldn’t believe it. The Holy See might label him a Sorceress, drag him off for research, then burn him at the stake. He’d seen it happen.
*“That Vindictive Knight is my successor,”* Nona’s words suddenly echoed in his mind. If Sophia truly was his charge, was this a test? He recalled her kindness: treating him like a vagrant for free, saving him from the water. Once, he’d been an upright man. Back then, he’d never hesitate in such a moment. Why now?
*Better to be cautious.*
After weighing it, he decided to observe from the shadows behind. Timely support should suffice.
“Awooo!”
A sharp, clear howl erupted from dense bushes. All white wolves sprang into action. That brief sound finally let Rein’s Detection Spell locate the alpha.
One wolf charged fearlessly. Meters from Sophia, it leaped for her neck. But she was a seasoned fighter. Her left hand shot up, grabbing the wolf’s throat mid-air. Her right swung the short sword, plunging it into the soft belly.
Before she could pull it free, movement sounded behind her. No time to turn. From the corner of her eye, white fur flashed in the air—aiming for her neck, the fatal spot for prey.
The attack never landed. Two wolves slammed into an invisible net, frozen mid-air. Their faces twisted in pain. Then, like volleyballs, they were hurled aside, stopping only when they crashed into trees. No visible wounds, but they couldn’t rise.
“Magic…”
Sophia instantly felt the aiding force. But now wasn’t the time to search for its source. Her priority was the remaining wolves, already preparing to strike again.
