Page 68 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
Nasume’s forces spread across the opposing hillside, their numbers greater than intelligence had suggested. At their head rode General Rethus, his massive black wolf form recognizable at a distance. Banners bearing Nasume’s crest of a wolf with bared fangs fluttered in the morning breeze.
“Archers ready,” Kitsuki commanded, his voice magnified by magic.
Behind him, hundreds of bowstrings pulled taut.
“Enchanters, barriers up.”
A shimmer passed through the air as magical shields materialized, protecting the front lines.
“Warriors, prepare to engage on my mark.”
Throughout the ranks, shifters tensed. Some remained in human form, while others transformed into their beasts.
Across the valley, Rethus’s howl split the air to signal the attack. It was taken up by thousands of wolf shifters as they charged down the hill toward Valzerna’s lines.
“Archers, fire at will!” Kitsuki commanded.
The sky darkened with arrows, raining death upon the approaching wolves. Many fell, but more took their place, their momentum unbroken.
“For Valzerna!” With his own battle cry, Kitsuki led the charge, his sword a blur of steel and frost as it cut through the first wolf shifter to reach him. All around, his army moved as one, meeting Nasume’s forces with disciplined fury.
The armies collided with a sound like thunder and splintering bones. Wolf shifters transformed mid-attack, their person forms giving way to massive beasts with gleaming fangs. Valzerna’s forces met them with equal ferocity. Dragon shifters unleashed elemental magic, bear shifters grappled with wolves, fox shifters darted between larger combatants with lethal precision, while human mages wielded spells to protect and attack.
Kitsuki fought at the heart of the conflict, his sword leaving a trail of frost on each corpse it created. Though he was a ruler who valued peace, he had trained in the arts of war since childhood. Every movement was deadly.
A wolf shifter lunged at him, jaws agape. Kitsuki sidestepped with preternatural speed, bringing his weapon down in an arc that severed the head from its body. Another wolf, wreathed in yellow flames, leaped at him. Kitsuki channeled his ice magic through his blade, meeting fire with frost. Steam hissed where the elements clashed, but the cold prevailed, extinguishing the flames before the blade pierced the wolf’s heart.
The battle raged. Bear shifters used their superior strength to devastating effect, breaking wolf shifters across their knees or crushing skulls with massive paws. Fox shifters moved like living shadows, their agility allowing them to strike vital points beforevanishing. Human warriors fought with enchanted weapons, their courage a match for any shifter’s natural abilities.
A pulse of magic distracted Kitsuki. The ring he had given Maseo activated its protective barrier. Without conscious thought, Kitsuki searched for the half-wolf shifter.
He found Maseo surrounded by three of Nasume’s wolves, each larger than the last. Maseo’s sword flashed in the sunlight, finding gaps in his opponents’ defenses with unerring accuracy. One wolf already lay dead at his feet, while another staggered back with blood pouring from its throat.
As Kitsuki watched, a wolf struck at Maseo with lightning. The ring’s barrier flared, casting a translucent shield that repelled the attack. The wolf howled in frustration, redoubling its efforts as Maseo counterattacked.
We must protect him, his dragon howled, thrashing against his restraint.
He is a warrior, Kitsuki reminded him.He can defend himself. The ring will do the rest.
Kitsuki still found it difficult to tear his attention away from Maseo’s fight. The half-wolf moved with fluid grace, dispatching another wolf with a precise thrust to the heart. The warrior in Kitsuki respected the artistry of his skill.
A snarl from behind was Kitsuki’s only warning. He spun, raising his sword in time to block a massive paw aimed at his throat. The wolf shifter transformed into his person form, revealing Rethus. The general’s skin had an unnatural grayish pallor. Veins of toxic green pulsed beneath his discolored flesh, and his eyes glowed with the same sickly hue. He wielded a blade that appeared to be carved from a single piece of obsidian-black bone, intricate runes glowing along its length with an eerie verdant light.
“The Ice King,” he growled, his voice resonating as if multiple throats spoke at once. “My master will reward me well for your head.”
“He hides behind his walls while you die for his pride,” Kitsuki replied. “A poor bargain.”
Rethus lunged with a roar. Their blades met in a shower of sparks. Where they connected, Kitsuki’s ice magic didn’t spread. The runes on the bone sword flared in a burst of green light, siphoning Kitsuki’s power. The ice forming along his blade cracked and melted, drawn into the hungry weapon.
A cold sensation unlike his own ice magic rushed up Kitsuki’s arm. It was not the clean, crisp chill of winter but something corrupt and ravenous.
“Do you feel it, Dragon King? Your life feeds my blade.”
Kitsuki broke away, analyzing his opponent with newfound wariness. Rumors had reached Valzerna’s court, whispered of Nasume engaging in forbidden arts, seeking power from beyond the veil of death itself through necromancy.
Before he could contemplate further, Rethus attacked again, his bone blade leaving trails of sickly green energy in the air. Kitsuki parried and countered, but each time their weapons met, he felt that same draining sensation. Around them, the ground withered, the grass blackening and crumbling to dust in an expanding circle.
“Your ice cannot save you,” the wolf taunted, pressing his advantage. “This power consumes all life, even dragon kings.”
