The moment Toghon's command echoed through the frozen air, the wolves launched forward with terrifying speed. Their bodies blurred against the snowy landscape, their fangs glinting under the pale light.
"On guard!" Batu's voice rang out as he shifted into a defensive stance, his hands glowing faintly with energy.
The disciples moved like a well-trained unit. Swords were unsheathed, spears leveled, and shields raised. The front line braced for impact, while those at the back prepared for counterattacks.
The first clash came violently.
A wolf lunged straight for a disciple, its jaws snapping shut just inches from his face—only to be intercepted by a spear. The disciple twisted his weapon, using the beast's momentum to hurl it aside. Another wolf leaped at Batu, but with a powerful step forward, he swung his fist into its ribcage, sending it skidding across the snow.
Kazel stood still, merely watching. His eyes darted from wolf to wolf, analyzing their movements. (Fast, but predictable.)
One of the larger wolves, likely the alpha, targeted a younger disciple who hesitated. The beast's claws came down—
A flash of movement.
Kazel was there.
With a single smooth step, he intercepted the wolf mid-air, catching it by the throat. The beast thrashed, but Kazel tightened his grip, his fingers digging into its fur. He turned to the disciple, his voice calm.
"Don't freeze. Keep moving."
Then, without even looking, he hurled the wolf aside like a ragdoll. It hit a tree with a thud before collapsing into the snow, unconscious.
The disciples redoubled their efforts, emboldened by his presence.
Toghon fought with precision, his strikes heavy yet controlled. He moved in wide arcs, his weapon sweeping through the snow and knocking wolves aside. Batu, meanwhile, was a wall of defense. His stance was unshakable, his blows landing with enough force to send the wolves yelping backward.
Despite their superior numbers, the wolves were losing ground.
One by one, they fell. Some lay unconscious, while others retreated into the trees, their blue eyes glaring before disappearing into the blizzard.
Within minutes, the battle was over.
Toghon exhaled, lowering his weapon. Batu wiped the sweat from his brow. The disciples, though breathing heavily, stood victorious.
Kazel dusted the snow off his sleeves, unfazed. His gaze drifted toward the shadows of the trees, where more glowing eyes lurked. (That wasn't all of them.)
"Let's continue," Kazel said as he took the lead, his strides unfaltering against the biting wind. "We're getting closer."
Toghon stepped up beside him, his brow furrowed. "How can you tell?"
"The density of their pack," Kazel replied smoothly. "They wouldn't gather like this unless we were near something important. If you don't want unnecessary casualties, send the injured back now."
Toghon turned his gaze toward the disciples. Many were already wounded, some nursing deep claw marks, others struggling to catch their breath. Pushing them any further would only weaken their formation. He exhaled sharply before making his decision.
"Injured ones, return to the sect," Toghon commanded. "The rest of you—if you choose to continue, know that death is a very real possibility from here on. Follow me only if you're prepared."
Silence. Then, Batu stepped forward. "Patriarch, let me protect them."
Toghon studied him, his expression unreadable. "Are you certain?"
"I am," Batu nodded, his fists clenched with resolve.
Toghon gave a slow nod in return. "Very well."
Meanwhile, Kazel had already moved ahead, his pace unhurried, yet every step exuded an unsettling dominance. The wolves lurking in the shadows of the snow-covered trees—predators that had been relentless before—remained motionless. Their glowing blue eyes tracked him, but none dared to move. It was as if they had realized…
They were not the hunters here.
He was.
Then, after a few more steps, the real horror began.
The wolves emerged—not just eight, not even a dozen, but more than twenty.
A sea of white fur and glistening fangs filled the mountainside, their eerie blue eyes locking onto the expedition. The snow beneath their paws trembled as they formed a semi-circle around the group, cutting off all paths of retreat.
The disciples tensed, gripping their weapons tightly. Even Toghon's usual composure wavered for a fraction of a second. Batu swallowed hard.
More than twenty wolves surrounded them, their white fur blending seamlessly with the snow, their breath misting in the cold air. Some were crouched low, muscles coiled and ready to pounce. Others stood tall, their piercing gazes locked onto the intruders.
Kazel exhaled, his breath steady. (This is getting interesting.)
Batu clenched his fists, standing firm beside him. The disciples tightened their grip on their weapons, some swallowing nervously.
Toghon narrowed his eyes. "This is different. They aren't just attacking out of instinct."
Kazel smirked. "No. They're organized. And that means…"
As if responding to his words, the wolves didn't lunge immediately. Instead, they spread out, their formation shifting. The stronger ones positioned themselves at the front, while the smaller ones moved behind. A strategy.
Then came a deep, guttural growl.
From the center of the pack, a beast emerged.
Toghon stiffened. "A… Frostfang Alpha."
The Frostfang Alpha was no ordinary wolf. This was a creature that had surpassed the boundaries of a typical beast—it walked on two legs, towering over the disciples at a terrifying three meters in height.
Its body was a masterpiece of raw power, muscles sculpted from battle and hardship, some visible beneath its thick, ashen-gray fur. The fur itself seemed to shift with the cold, catching the faint light of the icy surroundings. Running along its arms, torso, and legs were jagged, glowing blue stripes—eerily reminiscent of a zebra's, but pulsating with an unnatural frost.
Its golden eyes gleamed with intelligence, not the mindless hunger of a beast but the calculating gaze of a predator who knew it was at the top of the food chain. The Frostfang Alpha's arms were unnaturally long, each ending in a set of short but wickedly sharp claws that gleamed like shards of ice.
When it stepped forward, the crunch of snow beneath its weight sent a ripple of tension through the Ironhide disciples. This wasn't just another spirit beast. This was something else entirely.
Then, it tilted its head, inhaling deeply, its golden eyes locking onto Kazel with unblinking intensity.
It was aware.
And worse—it was interested.
The alpha wolf lowered its stance, baring its teeth. The surrounding wolves followed suit, their bodies tensed, waiting for the command to strike.
And then—
The alpha howled.
A bone-chilling sound, reverberating through the icy air.
At once, the entire pack moved.
"Prepare to defend, everyone! Put your heart and mind into it!" Toghon bellowed, the urgency in his voice snapping the disciples to attention as the white wolves closed in. But none of them expected what happened next.
Kazel grinned, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of battle, and without hesitation, he sprinted forward, leaving the others stunned.
"Kazel!" Batu shouted, but Kazel was already in motion, a blur of speed and ferocity.
"What is he doing?!" Toghon thought, gritting his teeth, watching the young master charge into the fray with unrelenting confidence.
In a fluid motion, Kazel drew his sword with one hand and summoned a spear with the other. The crowd of white wolves hesitated for a moment as if confused by his audacity, but Kazel's eyes—his pupils dilated, glowing with a dangerous intensity—spoke volumes of his resolve.
"Let's go!" Kazel roared, his voice like a battle cry.
In an instant, the tip of his spear pierced through the skull of a charging wolf, the force of the blow driving it down like a skewer. The creature let out a guttural howl before falling lifeless to the snow. The young master moved with brutal efficiency, the wolves falling before him like straw before a scythe. Every strike was calculated, precise, and devastating, his spirit beasts flickering around him, adding speed and strength to his already impossible movements.
"W-What in the…" one of the Ironhide disciples gasped, unable to comprehend how Kazel moved with such fluidity, how effortlessly he was cutting down beast after beast.
(D-Damn, hah, we can... we can win this!) another disciple shouted, emboldened by the sight of Kazel effortlessly slaying the wolves. His performance alone was like a surge of power coursing through the group, lifting their morale higher than it had ever been.
The Frostfang Alpha, seeing its pack faltering against Kazel's relentless assault, let out a low growl and then, in a primal rage, threw its head back and howled. The sound was deafening, echoing across the mountain, and with it, another pack of white wolves emerged from the shadows, charging forward in an attempt to overwhelm the young master.
But Kazel didn't flinch. He sliced through the next wave just as easily as the first, his movements a dance of death.
Frustration twisted the Frostfang Alpha's features. It bared its teeth, its golden eyes flashing with a dangerous intent. Realizing that its wolves were ineffective against Kazel, the Alpha took a step back before dropping to all fours, its muscular legs propelling it forward with terrifying speed.
In a flash, the Alpha lunged at Kazel, its massive claws outstretched, aiming for the young master's throat. The sheer weight and force of its attack seemed like it would crush anything in its path, but Kazel was ready. With a swift, precise motion, he brought his sword up in an arc, meeting the Frostfang Alpha's claw with a resounding clash.
The shock of the impact rang through the air, the force reverberating through Kazel's arms. But he didn't hesitate. Before the Alpha could strike again, he leaped back, creating just enough distance to catch his breath, his eyes never leaving the beast.
The Frostfang Alpha snarled, the frustration in its eyes growing. It had underestimated Kazel, and now, it was facing the consequences. Kazel stood tall, his posture unbroken, waiting for the next move.