Chapter 128: Wolves Drenched in Blood

When the first howl of a wolf echoed outside the city walls, the city guard and its associated personnel were quickly set into motion. In the various small guilds, professionals of every stripe, who had been discussing a chaotic array of topics, paused briefly before setting aside their tasks to head toward their homes or shops to gather the necessary supplies.

The source of the howl was unmistakable—sharp, long, and drawn out—a quintessential cry of the winter wolf. Unlike the common, otherworldly wolves that had first attacked Wang Yu, winter wolves were low-level magical beasts. They possessed a mana crystal within their bodies, marking their evolution from mere animals into magical creatures, granting them rudimentary spell-like abilities and a far more robust physique.

It was difficult for an average, non-professional hunter to slay such a sturdy beast capable of casting minor spells. While common bows, crossbows, and blades were not entirely incapable of wounding them, a mere wound was often enough for these dangerous beasts to counter-kill their hunter before succumbing to death.

Professionals, however, generally disdained hunting these forest-dwelling beasts, as their pelts and ice-element mana crystals were not particularly valuable. The main issue was that the wolves were not densely populated enough to warrant the effort. Yet, the annual beast tide was, in essence, a prime opportunity to earn some extra coin.

After a winter of dormancy, a vast number of winter wolves would emerge in a swarm, migrating toward regions capable of sustaining their population. Inevitably, this migration would collide with human settlements.

Conflict between the two was natural. Before the patterns of these tides were understood, many villages had indeed been damaged or even destroyed.

However, once the patterns were known, the city guards would dispatch detachments to garrison the small towns near the forest, and some professionals would spontaneously head to the forest outskirts to hunt these abundant winter wolves.

Once the numbers were high enough, hunting these not-so-powerful beasts became quite profitable. This had been the case for over a decade. Although there was talk of war this year, the beast tide itself—a simple, undirected natural phenomenon—was not particularly formidable.

Aside from the wolf king and the pack leaders, who might cause casualties upon their sudden appearance, these migrating winter wolves posed little threat to the royal capital.

This year’s tide had arrived somewhat early, which was why the professionals were scrambling to prepare; otherwise, they would have been ready well in advance.

The first howl seemed to be a signal. Within the forest outside the city, multiple wolf cries began to rise in succession. Winter wolves possessed a decent intelligence for animals, and their howls had great carrying power; those calling out now were likely the pack leaders.

After these leaders "communicated" through their howling, the packs—having survived the winter—would gather over the next four or five hours to begin their migration. The next signal would be the distinct, singular howl of the wolf king.

Having barely eaten throughout the winter, the wolves were at their weakest. The beast tide served as a form of natural selection, not just for other creatures, but for the wolves themselves. The weaker ones would perish during the migration, ensuring that only the strongest genes returned the following year.

Watching the number of professionals on the street swell, Wang Yu knew they were preparing for the hunt.

The market for magical beast materials was always in demand; they were a hard currency, essential for pharmacology, alchemy, and even certain occult practices leaning toward divination.

Walking through the streets, Wang Yu noticed that the professionals showed no signs of tension. Even the ordinary, non-professional residents went about their business as usual, and he soon felt the same.

It seemed this so-called "beast tide" was nothing like the apocalyptic events depicted in Earth’s fiction. And that was correct; it would be strange if a migration driven by biological habit were truly destructive.

In fact, the world’s ecological self-recovery was terrifyingly efficient. He had never heard of any species being hunted to extinction by human exploitation. Over the last decade, the capital’s professionals had killed at least a hundred thousand winter wolves, yet the following year, there was no noticeable decline in these resilient beasts.

Finding nothing worth his concern, Wang Yu decided to head home. His research into "Internal Submersion" was incomplete, and he planned to consult more data before attempting to construct his own Dou Qi matrix, hoping to awaken his ability by grasping the theoretical essence of the discipline.

However, the vibration of his communication crystal made him stop. The caller was Edward.

"Edward, what is it?"

"Wang Yu, I plan to participate in the hunting and defense against the beast tide. Are you free? I’d like a teammate."

"Hmm, sure. I haven't actually seen a beast tide before. But what about Shael? Didn't you ask him?"

"Shael...? I tried to contact him, but for some reason, I haven't been able to reach him for a while. I don't know where he went, so I came to you first."

"Probably something to do with his family. Remember his expression during the royal award ceremony? Don't worry about him; he’s not the type to let himself be taken advantage of."

"True. See you outside the city, then."

"The East Gate?"

"Yes."

Wang Yu put away the crystal and checked his gear. His potion pouch was always on him, and his Weaver’s Grimoire was slung securely at his waist. With nothing else to prepare, he set off.

He wondered why Edward, the son of a Grand Duke, was interested in hunting winter wolves—an activity the nobility usually looked down upon. Then again, Edward had never acted much like a noble.

Wang Yu himself was quite interested in this peculiar phenomenon. Trying his hand at a hunt didn't seem like a bad idea; entertainment in this world was scarce, and this would serve as a decent pastime.

Joining the professionals who had finished their preparations, Wang Yu headed toward the East Gate, which stood closest to the forest of magical beasts.

...

"Awoooo...!" A loud, long howl pierced the sky. Above the forest, cyclone-like phenomena began to manifest. The snow that had accumulated all winter, along with the frost on the tree branches, was swept up by an invisible force, swirling and gathering above the canopy.

On the outskirts, it looked as if a white tornado had formed within the woods. Snow was tossed from the lowlands into the high air, only to be scattered in all directions at the peak. On this day of clear skies, the forest began to experience a heavy snowfall.

"The wolf king is awake. Get ready. The tide is coming. Hurry up and set the traps; this year’s first spring haul depends on these pups."

A burly, bald warrior with a scarred head crouched on the snow-covered ground, sharpening his heavy longsword with a whetstone, shouting at his companions to prepare.

"Quiet down, Ohm. What’s the point of sharpening that piece of junk? Your sword doesn't need to be sharp; just knock them out. If you chop them to pieces, the pelt value drops. You want the loss deducted from your share?"

A tall, thin man draped in a white cloak crawled out from a snowbank; the white landscape had hidden him perfectly.

"What do you know? This is my romance! Mwah, give it a kiss, Lane. You’ll never understand what a weapon means to a warrior. It’s your second partner!"

Ohm was unfazed, showing no irritation at the ranger’s mockery. He hugged his massive greatsword—which cost nearly his entire life savings—and planted a firm kiss on it.

"Ugh, disgusting. You call that romance? Then do I have to go kiss my bear traps?"

Lane made a face of disgust, but since he didn't crawl back under the snow, it meant the traps were already set.

"You two have been working together for three years, why do you still bicker so much? Hurry up. Once the 'Wolf Snow' splits, we need to be careful. Try to keep the packs on our side. The front lines have been expensive this year, and these materials are pricier than usual."

A woman in thick cotton clothes pulled an alchemical bomb from her pack and began mixing a potion to mask their scent.

"Fine, we’ll listen to you, Triss. If we make a killing this year, let’s move out of the capital. It’s too chaotic here. With the demon invasion and all, it’s not as stable as my hometown." Ohm shrugged, stood up, and stopped polishing his blade, muttering about his future plans.

"I agree with Ohm. The capital is too messy lately. Too many people in the black market are dying for no reason. Might as well go to Ohm’s hometown." Lane nodded, not bothering to refute the bald man.

"That works. At least we’ve earned enough these past few years. Let’s go to Ohm’s hometown. It might not be prosperous, but it’s a good place to live."

Triss, the alchemist, whose physical constitution wasn't as robust as the two professionals, reluctantly agreed. The capital was indeed unsettled, and there was no reason to stay.

"Awoooo!" The second wave of howls echoed from within the forest. These were the pack leaders. As the "Wolf Snow" storm swirling in the forest began to split into smaller blizzards moving toward the outskirts, it signaled that the tide had officially begun.

Ohm didn't waste any more words. Dragging his heavy sword, he walked to the front, closest to the forest, where a blizzard could be seen clearly approaching.

"Lucky us." Lane whistled. No need to hunt for a spot where wolves might emerge. He tossed a vial of Triss’s scent-masking potion onto Ohm, applied one to himself, and then vanished into the snow.

Taking a specially made alchemical bomb from his box, Triss watched the forest, which had begun to shake from the blizzard.

Soon, a large number of snow-white wolves, noticeably larger than those on Earth, charged out of the forest.

The mana crystals within the winter wolves resonated with one another, stirring the surrounding snow into small blizzards that circled the packs. These blizzards weren't lethal, but they were a nuisance, rendering many arrows useless.

"Hmm, quite a few." Triss held the alchemical bomb, eyed the pack of several dozen, and tossed it.

The activated bomb exploded in mid-air. A special wave spread out, the mana oscillation clashing with the wolves' resonance and quickly shattering the blizzard layer.

A second bomb followed. The trio had prepared in advance, quickly closing their eyes and inserting earplugs.

A blinding light bloomed in the sky, accompanied by a deafening roar. "Buzz!" The sound wave expanded, causing the snow-covered ground to tremble.

It was a flashbang, highly effective against beasts. The blast would bring chaos and panic to the pack; beasts of any world were sensitive to intense light and noise.

Ohm opened his eyes first. His role was to drive the wolves at the front, forcing the panicked beasts to disperse and step into the traps Lane had buried.

But Ohm immediately sensed something wrong. The wolves before him showed no reaction to the blast. They continued to charge forward, heads down, and their target seemed to be him.

Stunned for a fraction of a second, Ohm felt a wave of intense crisis. By all logic, the wolves should have been in chaos. Moreover, winter wolves in a tide prioritized migration; they wouldn't attack unless blocked. After being hit by a flashbang, they should have instinctively avoided him.

Instead, the wolves bared their teeth, emitting low, guttural growls. Their crimson eyes locked onto Ohm, and they converged upon him with unmasked, manic bloodlust.

"Don't come any closer!" Fear flickered in Ohm’s eyes. As a mid-level apprentice knight, killing a few winter wolves was like killing dogs, but the sheer number before him... the terror of death crushed him in an instant.

He swung his greatsword, cleaving two wolves in half, but the pack surged forward without a hint of fear, trampling over the spraying blood and falling entrails of their companions to pounce on him.

Claws tore through Ohm’s leather armor, leaving deep gashes. Sharp fangs bit into his neck, severing arteries and sending blood spraying wildly.

Dozens of winter wolves went mad, pinning Ohm beneath them. His cries were drowned out by the snarling of the pack.

Blood stained the wolves' white fur, and having tasted it, the pack became even more frenzied. Blood, more blood!

Lane, just recovering from the flashbang, saw only the blood-drenched pack, the mangled corpse of Ohm, and the wolves charging toward him—even as they triggered the bear traps, their leg bones crushed and shattered, they showed no reaction, no pause, driven only by their bloodlust.

"Ah!" With only enough time for a single, wretched cry, Ryan, whose constitution was even frailer than Ohm's, was tackled to the ground, his throat savaged by a multitude of wolf maws until he was reduced to a heap of mangled flesh.

"They've gone mad, all of them! What is happening!" A short distance away, the alchemist Triss watched these winter wolves, acting in total defiance of their nature, slaughter her companion in the blink of an eye, and she spiraled into chaos.

She looked on as the wolves turned their bloodthirsty gazes toward her, and she let out a scream of pure despair.

"Ah!!!!!"

...