Then it came—the howl that roared across the clearing like a shockwave tearing through the night. Deep, guttural, and ancient. The kind of sound that rooted you to the earth and made your instincts scream. The wolf lord had arrived.
Silas finished the last of the wolf-broth in one clean motion, the wooden bowl clattering softly against the grass as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A slow grin curled on his face as he rose to his feet, brushing grass and dirt from his wrinkled pants, his joints popping faintly from disuse.
"Guess our rest is over," he said casually, like he were commenting on the weather rather than the looming boss fight.
His voice carried easily through the camp as he strolled toward the center, his undead bear lumbering behind him like a grotesque shadow. The air shifted around them, the faint embers of the firelights catching on its exposed ribs as they moved.
Students glanced up from their meals and conversations, confused by the howl's raw power—louder than any normal beast should be. It wasn't just near. It was everywhere.
By the time Silas reached the center, all eyes were already on him. The students had instinctively risen to their feet, spells humming to life in their palms—sparks, frost, and arcane symbols blooming like flowers in the dark.
"Heard of a boss battle, right?" Silas asked with an easy, amused tone.
"Well... here's one."
He chuckled, letting his own hands ignite—one flickering with necrotic green, the other laced with flickers of ember-red. Then, casually, he pointed toward the gate.
The undead bear roared and charged, its massive bulk crashing into the wooden gate and splintering it like a battering ram, sending debris flying as the entrance crumpled inward.
"Time to fight!" Silas shouted, the sharp edge of excitement bleeding into his voice.
Students leapt into motion. Some dashed toward the elevated watch platforms, their spells already in motion—bright projectiles and elemental blasts raining down like artillery. Others planted themselves beside the bear, ready to face the enemy head-on with glowing weapons and layered enchantments.
Silas cracked his neck as he stepped through the shattered remains of the gate, the cool breeze of the night brushing past him like a stage cue. His robe fluttered behind him, and for a brief moment, the battlefield looked almost cinematic.
"I won't be babysitting any of you, got it?"
From beside him, the punch-slinger appeared—Connor—his runes flaring once more with golden-orange energy. His stance was poised, focused.
"Looks like you gave some useful advice after all," he muttered, nodding once. "We ain't friends, but call me Connor."
Silas grinned at that, a flicker of warmth hidden behind his usual smugness. He cracked his knuckles, both hands now glowing—one marked with a skeletal sigil pulsing with necrotic energy, the other rimmed with fiery glyphs of combustion. The magic rippled along his arms like veins of power.
Without another word, another howl shattered the air—closer now. Louder. A chorus of answering cries followed it, and then the ground began to tremble.
Out of the treeline, wolves burst forth like a living tide. Dozens—no, hundreds—snarling, howling, eyes burning with unnatural fury. This wasn't a simple attack. It was a warband, and it scaled in number to match the students.
The sky above the watch platforms lit up like a festival of destruction—spells arcing through the air with explosive beauty. Fireballs roared like comets. Shards of ice exploded like crystal grenades. Lightning split the air with deafening cracks.
The first wave of wolves was obliterated in seconds.
"This kinda seems overkill,"
Silas remarked dryly, shielding his eyes from a particularly brilliant blast. He watched as entire packs were incinerated, sent flying, or vaporized. It was like watching war footage—chaotic, deafening, and awe-inspiring. Dozens of wolves didn't even make it halfway across the field.
Up on the central watch platform, Cynthia stood like a general, calmly orchestrating the defense. She barked commands with clarity and precision, launching spells with practiced grace and lethal efficiency. Her blue hair whipped behind her like a banner, the moonlight tracing silver along its strands as she moved.
Funny. I always skipped her scenes in the game. Now I can't take my eyes off her.