Point of View: Squad Leader
These past few days had been truly exhausting.
As I looked around, taking in the storm-covered landscape, I couldn't help but wonder how a climate like this could be so hostile even to us. The snow didn't fall in soft flakes, but in a dense, violent mass that erased the shapes of the terrain and muffled all sound, while the wind howled between the rocks and lifted white spirals that constantly battered our fur.
Even so, we had grown used to it…
Though I wouldn't mind resting for a while in Dalaran.
We were hidden among ice-covered rock formations, perfectly camouflaged with the environment. Behind me, my forty-nine subordinates remained silent and motionless, breathing in a controlled rhythm as they waited for the signal. I did the same, maintaining the pace and avoiding any unnecessary sound.
About fifty meters ahead, in a small depression in the terrain, lay the bait: two wild animals.
One was already dead.
The other barely clung to life, trembling weakly on the snow. Its whimpers were intermittent, faint—but enough to draw attention.
I leaned back slightly and whispered:
"Stay alert. A hunting group should arrive soon."
The wind worked in our favor, dispersing any trace of scent, while the storm completely concealed our presence. The injured animal let out a louder whine and tried to move, but its legs slipped uselessly against the snow.
Then we heard it.
A deep, distant howl—
Followed by others answering in the distance.
Shadows began to emerge through the snowfall—large, hunched figures advancing on two legs, barely visible through the white curtain.
I counted quickly.
Thirty in total…
But only ten were Ascended.
They moved cautiously, though hunger dominated their behavior, and the moment they saw the bait, they quickened their pace without much concern for their surroundings. They lunged at the living animal, which let out a desperate shriek before one of the lycanthropes pierced its neck with a claw, spilling warm blood over the fresh snow.
That was the moment.
"Now."
Fifty white circles appeared in unison beneath our feet, and the snow around us rose and adhered to our bodies, compacting into a solid layer—
Frost Armor.
Without wasting time, I activated my second Art.
"Reinforcement."
Origin Energy surged through my muscles like contained pressure. It didn't increase my speed, but it made every movement heavier… and more devastating.
We charged.
The first lycanthrope barely had time to react before my claw pierced through its chest, straight into the heart. I felt the initial resistance of its skin—and then the way the flesh gave in under the force.
It tried to counterattack.
It even managed to manifest its own Art.
But it was too late.
It fell.
To my right, two of my subordinates slammed into another Ascended with such force that the snow exploded beneath the impact. The lycanthrope managed to respond, tearing into one of their Frost Armors and cracking the solid layer—but not enough to stop them.
The second bear drove its claws into its abdomen, and though the wound began to close slowly, a third strike crushed its skull.
The fight was brutal.
And brief.
The non-Ascended tried to flee, but they were already surrounded. Within seconds, the snow was stained with dark blood.
In less than twenty seconds—
It was over.
We breathed heavily. One of my subordinates had a broken layer of armor on his shoulder, blood staining his fur.
"Injured?" I asked.
"Superficial," he replied without hesitation.
I nodded.
"Quick. Leave the bodies. We're moving."
We deactivated our Arts, and the circles vanished instantly. Without wasting time, we began moving again, erasing our tracks and disturbing the snow with calculated motions.
We were too close to the medium-sized tribe.
If we alerted them and they reacted as a whole, we could be surrounded…
And worse—
We might attract the level-two alpha.
We ran.
The wind now struck us head-on with greater force, and visibility dropped to barely thirty meters. One of my subordinates spoke between controlled breaths:
"Leader… how many more teams will we eliminate today?"
I looked up at the dark gray sky, nearly black under the storm.
"One or two. We must return before it gets darker."
"We've already taken down three…" another muttered from behind.
"Silence. Don't lower your guard."
We had been like this for days—constant guerrilla tactics, strike and vanish. The other three leaders operated in different sectors, while the King hunted on his own.
Then we heard it.
A different howl.
Longer.
Deeper.
And then another… and another.
This wasn't isolated.
It was collective.
My body tensed instantly.
"Run faster!"
Shadows began to appear behind us, blurred within the storm, while the ground trembled faintly beneath our steps. I turned my head as I ran and felt the number of pursuers rising rapidly.
I spoke to the system.
"System, initiate call to the King."
[Affirmative.]
A translucent screen appeared before me, barely visible through the snowfall.
The King answered immediately.
"How many are chasing you?"
I glanced back.
"Report."
From the rear of the formation, a tense voice responded:
"Leader… I count twenty Ascended… no… it's increasing… more shadows behind…"
The ground trembled again—stronger this time.
"Seventy," he corrected seconds later. "Seventy Ascended confirmed… and more are coming."
There was a brief silence before the King spoke, completely calm:
"I'll send the nearest team. Change your route. Don't lead them to the base. Head west."
"Yes, King."
"Hold out. They'll arrive in minutes. I'm on my way as well."
The communication ended. Though I felt a slight relief, the noise behind us kept growing.
"West!"
We turned immediately. The terrain became more uneven, with rocks hidden beneath the snow that made movement harder. One slipped, but got back up without stopping.
Breathing grew heavier.
The cold air burned our lungs.
We were tired.
We couldn't activate our Arts—it would be a waste of energy, and we didn't have any specialized for movement.
We endured only through stamina…
And will.
I didn't know how much time had passed since the call.
It didn't matter.
"How many now?" I asked.
"Seventy-five… eighty… still increasing…"
Damn it.
We had been hunting all day, and our muscles were beginning to feel it.
"We can't keep this up, leader…" one of them panted.
He was right.
But stopping without reinforcements meant death.
The storm roared, reducing the world to white and gray, while behind us advanced a tide of shadows growing ever closer.
I checked the map.
The reinforcements were one minute away.
One minute.
But every second felt eternal.
The trembling of the ground was no longer faint.
It was constant.
"Prepare yourselves," I ordered, slightly reducing my speed. "When the reinforcements arrive, we fight."
I looked back once more.
Now I could see them more clearly.
More defined.
Closer.
I clenched my teeth.
"They're catching up…"
We could only keep running.
I checked the map again.
Forty seconds.
My subordinates were exhausted.
I hesitated for just an instant.
And decided.
"Reinforcements will arrive in forty seconds… but in twenty, we attack."
No one protested.
They simply nodded.
They knew the same thing I did.
If we kept running, they would catch us first.
It was better to take the initiative.
Even if it was risky.
I only hoped…
I had made the right decision.