A fort, the surrounding forest falling quiet as the wolves finished up their hunt.

On the wall, Bali of The Crimson Lions, the Beast Tamer captain leading the defence, stood staring at the dark of the trees ahead, stroking the fur of his Sabretooth's neck as they listened to its eerie silence that followed the last stragglers dying.

He came to a sudden pause. "2.4 metres, you say?"

The Shaman responsible for building the fort's inner keep nodded. "Yes, captain, we struck water 2.4 metres down."

"That..."

With their numbers so limited, Bali had been hoping they might survive the forthcoming wolf siege by tunnelling underground. However, this strategy could not be executed with the soil layer so thin.

He noticed the Shaman hesitating to ask about the navy.

"It's uncertain when they'll arrive," Bali lied, knowing The Empire had hung them out to dry. "For now, we can only try to stall."

A voice sounded in his ears.

-Anonymous: They're here. Begin.

Bali saw nothing in the forest to indicate an attack, but the guy slipping him advice had been correct about many things beyond his understanding thus far.

He gave the order in a group chat for a platoon to withdraw, before raising his binoculars to identify what had changed that would signal the attack.

In the hushed darkness of the forest, rose-pink dots soon began to pop up, their numbers multiplying by the second. There were a lot of them. The Grey Wolves, having returned from their feast, were gathering for the final assault.

Following his orders, the platoon blocking the gap in the wall of trees surrounding the fort drew back. Their movements were precise, quick, and orderly. Gone was the drunken sloppiness of earlier in the evening, the unanticipated defeat during the ambush having sobered them up.

As they retreated to the fort, a nearby pyramid of trees disassembled itself and flew towards the gap, then the logs fell rapidly into place like Tetris pieces, sealing the wall shut.

Amidst the crashing of the stacking trees, there was a faint click that the Beast Tamer missed.

A second later, Bali received another message.

-Anonymous: Fire, now. They’re charging.

Although the Beast Tamer, again, couldn’t detect any signs of change, he still gave the order. He wasn't going to question whoever was giving advice, not after seeing the defence he'd scrambled together so quickly.

Nine Arcanists in total had survived the ambush. Presently, they were spaced around the outside of the fort on the ground level. Stepping forward, they began to wave their arms and recite spell-syllables.

Around each Arcanist, two types of motes condensed from the air, one coloured indigo, the other the orange-red of lava. From this, one could deduce that they were casting a fire-type spell.

While the Arcanists were preparing, Bali raised his binoculars again, only to find them unnecessary.

All at once and from all sides, the Grey Wolves came sprinting out of the forest. With an uncanny discipline, they swept forward without making a sound except for the pitter-pattering of their innumerable feet.

In the open, their numbers, seen in full light for the first time, made Bali gasp.

His Sabretooth moved in front of him and bared its fangs at the oncoming tide.

Henry was up in the watchtower, having re-equipped his custom gear with long-distance Spelltomes, ready to snipe his final wolf. Before choosing a spell, considering the shadow demon predicting his moves, he flipped a coin a couple of times, ensuring that even he himself wouldn't know what came next.

He flipped two heads and a tail.

", it is," he said, pressing his palm against a Spelltome with a kraken strangling a ship on its cover. “Mo. Ca. Ma. Na... ”

This was the same spell used by the Beast Tamer’s men during the encirclement incident. It had the longest cast time of the spells Henry might have selected by coin flip. However, he'd included it in the list of options because it had the benefit of being the hardest spell to miss.

From his high vantage point, he could see all the action in the fort and the clearing around it, the wolves about to enter the hurdles he'd laid to delay them and thin them out.

As predicted, the whole forest had been brought for the assault, the beasts sprinting forward in a dense mat like Christmas Island crabs during their annual migration to the sea, their numbers defying the eyes ability to perceive.

The first to fall were slain by arrows. Villages with Archer classes—Bowmen, Beast Tamers, and some specialisations for Cutthroats and Fighters—tended to have the longest effective range in the game, being able to attack up to 100 metres. A real-life bow could shoot much further, but, beyond this range, the attack effect empowering the arrowtip would time out and aim correction abilities would cease to function.

With so many wolves, the archers focused their fire on the larger variant wolves in the pack. Despite the beasts’ extra health, they were still destroyed by any blow that struck them, their fallen bodies being swallowed under the wolves behind.

The Wolf Emperor, having delayed to study the battle, finally broke loose from an inconspicuous corner of the clearing.

As soon as it emerged, the archers shifted their attacks to it, the hail of arrows opening holes in its face, chest, and legs, slowing it very slightly. Nevertheless, the giant beast didn't stop.

When it reached within 60 metres of the fort, its struggles increased sevenfold. An Accompanist’s drum, buried in the soil, exploded with an ear-splitting bang, stunning the monster for a second.

No sooner had the stun worn off, The Wolf Emperor found its forelegs being blown apart by a spell. Losing its balance, it crashed face-first into the dirt.

The gargantuan beast continued to be focus-fired in this way, yet, seemingly indifferent to the pain, it continued to push forward, gaining a few metres in between each volley obliterating its limbs.

The smaller wolves, unfocused, reached the wall of trees around the fort first. Tickled by this foolish attempt to hinder them, they empowered their claws, which began to glow bright white. Digging deep into the bark, they were able to sprint vertically as easily as they had on land.

Upon reaching the top, however, the wolves discovered that its design was not so simple.

The ‘wall’ actually consisted of multiple walls, each spaced far enough apart that a wolf could not jump from one to the other. To reach the fort, they would have to climb each one, wasting Stamina and time — all while within range of the humans’ attacks. This feature had been impossible to detect, for the former openings in the inner walls had been made successively wider, creating the illusion from outside, looking through the first gap, that there was a clear path to the fort after the first.

Some of the wolves, unnerved by surprise, wanted to retreat, but The Wolf Emperor commanded them onward. They jumped down and braved the danger-ridden obstacle course, scaling wall after wall.

As the first of the wolves began to reach the third layer of walls, another unpleasant surprise arrived. Nine earthen blocks surrounding the fort shattered, revealing human mages with extended palms, their spells complete.

All along the wooden outer walls, orange-indigo flames sprouted into life, so hot they instantly converted any wolves touched to ash.

From a distance, it was apparent that the flames had a regular form, each shaped like a curtain, about the height of a one-story house, the width of a bathroom, and the depth of a bed. From this rather mundane shape, the spell had obtained its name, .

The Arcanists, continuing to channel their , spread their arms apart, making the curtains split down the middle. Each half proceeded, at the pace of a jogging man, to move separately along the tree walls, the terrified wolves leaping out of their destructive path.

In a few breaths’ time, a great blaze making the moonlit scene as bright as day, the whole maze of timber walls had been set alight. Those wolves unfortunate enough to have begun the climb competed for pockets of space between the wedged layers; alas, the flames were too close, the heat cooking them alive, the fire spreading between them as the fur of burning wolves ignited their kin.

The blaze could be felt even by the trainees manning the fort, who winced at the anguished howls of the frying pups.

The Wolf Emperor, however, still delayed by the volley of arrows mangling his limbs, showed no distress at the sight of the inferno. Taking another hard-fought step forward, the giant beast emitted a humoured click.

"Silly, Tyrant! Tis folly to think that I, Wisguh, who’ve been wedded to the flames for an eternity, would be held back by such paltry embers."

Raising its nose proudly, The Emperor howled.

Awooo!

Henry, frowning a little at the phrase ‘wedded to the flames’, saw a notification pop up.

You have been blessed by Wisguh's Howl of Resilience>. Vitality has increased by 20 for 30 seconds.

If the blessing had enough range to reach him in the watchtower, then it would have clearly buffed the wolves as well.

Under the orders of The Emperor, the burning wolves continued their advance.

Bolstered by their leader, as long as they avoided the directly, the burning wood alone would not kill them. Their fur may be singed away, their flesh may be charred black, but they could soldier on.