Anton and Haldir took the long route around the shadow wolves' position, circling wide to approach from the opposite side of their original location. They moved with care, Haldir's footsteps so light they barely disturbed the forest floor, while Anton struggled to mimic the tracker's fluid grace. The forest had grown darker, the last remnants of daylight filtering weakly through the dense canopy above.
When they reached their destination, Haldir gestured toward a massive oak whose branches still clung to a covering of autumn leaves. "Up there," he whispered, his breath a mere ghost against Anton's ear. "The remaining leaves will help conceal your shadow from their senses."
Anton nodded and began his ascent, mindful of where he placed each hand and foot. The bark was rough beneath his fingers, providing good grip but threatening to scrape his skin raw. He settled onto a thick branch about fifteen feet above the ground, positioning himself so his body melded with the trunk's natural shadow.
"Perfect," Haldir murmured from below. "Remember, don't move unnecessarily. Keep your shadow submerged within the tree's." With those words of caution, the scout vanished and reappeared moments later in a neighboring tree, with a bow already half-drawn.
Anton steadied his breathing and began to channel his mana. He closed his eyes in concentration, feeling the familiar warmth spreading from his body down through his right arm. The energy tingled pleasantly at his fingertips, eager to be shaped. Carefully, he extended his consciousness into the mana, molding it with both will and imagination.
The magic responded beautifully, flowing from his hand like liquid glass, elongating and forming five distinct appendages at its terminus. When Anton opened his eyes, he couldn't suppress a small smile of satisfaction. Extending from his right hand was a translucent, shimmering construct, an ethereal arm nearly twenty feet long that had colored like that of a blurred mirror.
This was his "Phantom Hand," a technique of his own mana manipulation. Where the common spell produced a stiff, obviously magical construct hand, his Phantom Hand possessed a lifelike fluidity and weight. Its semi-solid texture allowed it to interact with physical objects in ways that made it seem almost alive. From a distance, Phantom Hand was like a larger version of a sticky hand toy that children played with in the city from a distance. Like a sticky hand toy, the hand part of his "Phantom Hand" is connected to his real hand by his elongated mana, allowing him to extend his reach and manipulate objects far beyond his physical grasp
Anton flexed his fingers experimentally, watching as the Phantom Hand mirrored his movements with perfect precision. Satisfied with the construct's stability, he slowly directed it downward from his perch, guiding it toward the forest floor below.
The Phantom Hand, whose body looked like a snake, descended like a real serpent, weaving between branches before slithering into the undergrowth. As it moved through the bushes, it disturbed leaves and twigs with deliberate purpose, creating a subtle rustling that sounded remarkably like a creature moving stealthily slithering through the brush. The construct's shadow resembled that of a snake like predator which would surely attract the attention of shadow wolves.
Anton's brow furrowed in concentration as he guided the construct. This was the most delicate part of the operation, creating enough disturbance to attract the wolves without alarming them into fleeing. Too subtle, and they would ignore it; too obvious, and they would recognize the trap.
His efforts were rewarded almost immediately. From their elevated position, both the two men saw the shadow wolves' reaction. As one, the pack turned their ruby eyes toward the source of the disturbance, their midnight fur bristling with sudden attention. Three of the six wolves separated from the main group, slinking low to the ground as they approached the mysterious movement in the undergrowth. Their movements were fluid, predatory highlighting their confident stalking of hunters who believed they had detected unsuspecting prey.
Anton's left hand began to tingle as he quietly prepared a Magic Missile spell, carefully maintaining his concentration on the Phantom Hand with his right. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool evening air; maintaining two distinct magical operations simultaneously was taxing, especially when one required such fine control.
Beside him in the neighboring tree, Haldir nocked an arrow and drew his bow to half-tension, his eyes never leaving the approaching wolves. The scout's face was a mask of deadly focus, muscles coiled and ready to release.
Neither man could see their companions from this position. Maria would be perched somewhere in the trees behind the wolves, while Ruk and Zog would be approaching the remaining wolves from the far side. Anton felt a twinge of anxiety at being unable to coordinate visually with the rest of the team, but he pushed the feeling aside. This was the nature of such operations, each member had to trust the others to perform their roles without constant reassurance.
The lead shadow wolf was now mere inches away from the Phantom Hand, its glowing red eyes fixed on the movement in the brush. Its lips drew back in a silent snarl, revealing teeth that seemed to absorb rather than reflect what little light remained in the forest.
Anton held his breath. The moment of attack was almost upon them.
When the moment arrived, Anton released the spell with a controlled exhale. A streak of brilliant light erupted from his outstretched palm. The missile curved in mid-flight, adjusting its path before striking the lead wolf precisely where the skull met the spine. The creature collapsed without a sound, dead before its body crumpled to the forest floor.
In the heartbeat that followed, Haldir's arrow whispered through the night air, finding its mark in the eye socket of the rearmost wolf. The projectile buried itself to the head, the shadow wolf's legs buckled as its life force extinguished instantly.
Only the middle wolf remained of the detached group, its head swiveling in sudden alarm as it registered the deaths of its packmates. Across the clearing, the main group of wolves was already meeting a similar fate. Anton glimpsed two spears protruding from the bodies of fallen beasts, while the skull of a third had been obliterated by what could only be Maria's devastating spell.
Five down. One remained.
Haldir's hands moved with unnatural speed, nocking another arrow as Anton drew the rune in his mind for a second magic missile. But the surviving shadow wolf reacted with the desperate instinct of a cornered predator. It made no attempt to locate its attackers; instead, the creature's form seemed to ripple and distort, its substance melting into the shadows beneath the bush where it stood. By the time Anton's spell and Haldir's arrow converged on the spot, they struck nothing but empty earth and scattered leaves.
"It's coming! Pay attention to the shadows!" Haldir's urgent shout, jolted Anton from his momentary confusion.
Anton instantly dismissed his phantom hand. His eyes darted frantically across the forest floor, scanning the patchwork of darkness that surrounded them. The countless overlapping shadows of trees, bushes, and rocks created a maze of potential hiding places.
He searched the area around the bush where the wolf had disappeared, but saw no sign of movement. The creature had completely vanished, as though it had never existed.
"Anton, dodge!" Anton heard Haldir's desperate cry.
Pure instinct saved Anton's life. Without conscious thought, he launched himself from the tree branch, plummeting toward the ground fifteen feet below. Anton hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact but still feeling the jarring force radiating through his shoulder and hip. He scrambled to his feet, heart beating like a drum.
The bestiary descriptions hadn't prepared him for the reality of a shadow wolf's speed. He had read about their ability to dissolve and travel through connected shadows, but witnessing it firsthand was terrifying—one moment an empty darkness, the next, a fully materialized predator lunging for him.
He could hear the approaching footsteps of Maria, Ruk, and Zog rushing to his aid but they were still too far away.
The moment he regained his balance, he looked up the branch he'd just jumped off. He caught a glimpse of midnight fur materializing from the very shadow on the branch he'd been standing on with its razor-sharp teeth snapped closed on empty air before dissolving back into darkness.
The beast hadn't retreated. Anton knew that its predatory instinct drove them beyond reason, especially when cornered or threatened. His mind raced through his arsenal of spells, Magic Missile required too much precision, flame from Ember spell was too small to inflict significant damage. The wolf moved too quickly for his arsenal of offensive magic.
Movement caught his peripheral vision, a patch of shadow deeper than the surrounding shadows, slithering with unnatural speed down the tree trunk. The shadow flowed like liquid across the forest floor, racing toward the pool of shadow beneath the tree where Anton stood.
"Haldir! Here!" he bellowed, his voice cracking with urgency as he threw himself sideways in a desperate roll.
The shadow wolf materialized exactly where he had stood a heartbeat earlier, erupting from the shadows with fangs bared for his throat. Its jaws snapped shut on empty air again, crimson eyes blazing with frustrated hunger. When the creature registered its missed strike, it didn't hesitate. It plunged back into the nearest shadow, vanishing before Haldir's hastily loosed arrow could find its mark.
Anton scrambled to his feet, chest heaving. The wolf was playing to its strengths using the abundant shadows of the twilight forest as both weapon and shield. Conventional attacks were useless against an enemy that could become intangible at will. He needed to change the rules of engagement.
His final utility spell surfaced in his memory, one he'd modified. The standard Candlelight spell was designed for sustained, gentle illumination. Anton had inverted its principles, sacrificing duration for blinding intensity.
It was risky. Such a flash would temporarily blind him as well, and the burst of light might attract other, more dangerous denizens of Malor Forest. But facing the shadow wolf's next attack without a counter seemed like certain death.
He began tracing the modified Candlelight rune in the mindscape. All the while, his eyes darted between patches of darkness, searching for the wolf's approach. There, a ripple of movement in the shadows to his right, flowing toward him with predatory purpose.
The wolf was closing in. Anton's mind worked faster, sweat beading on his brow as he completed the complex adjustments that would transform the gentle spell into a weapon of pure light.
"Haldir, shoot!" he shouted, completing the final stroke of the rune.
In one fluid motion, Anton released the spell, squeezed his eyes shut, and hurled himself leftward in a desperate roll. The modified Candlelight erupted from his palm, not the gentle glow of its standard form, but an explosion of pure radiance that banished every shadow within three meters for a second. But that was enough.
Even through closed eyelids, the flash seared Anton's vision with painful intensity. He heard a guttural yelp of pain. The shadow wolf, forcibly materialized when its shadow refuge vanished in the burst of light. The sound was followed immediately by the distinctive whisper of fletching through air and the meaty thunk of an arrowhead finding its target.
Anton's vision slowly returned in a wash of painful afterimages. He blinked away tears, forcing his eyes to focus on the scene before him. The shadow wolf lay motionless on the ground, Haldir's arrow protruding from the junction between its skull and spine, a perfect kill shot. He had done it. He had won his first battle against magical beasts.