Alaric’s world had narrowed to the snarling jaws of the wolf. He had been fighting for ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity, and his strength was gone. Parrying another lunge, his arms screaming with fatigue, he felt a surge of relief at the sound of a voice calling out. Someone was coming to help.
But as the voice registered, confusion cut through his exhaustion.
Isn't that Joric's voice? Why is he—
He couldn't fathom it. Joric, of all people, offering aid? The thought was so baffling it stalled his tired mind. In the next instant, that confusion was obliterated by a searing pain as a crossbow bolt pierced his left shoulder.
Alaric’s eyes flew wide. He had no time to even register the shock. The moment of impact was all the opening the wolf needed. It lunged, its teeth tearing into his left arm as its weight slammed him to the ground.
“Aggghhh!!” Alaric screamed, a raw sound of agony as the wolf’s fangs ground against bone, threatening to rip the limb from its socket. He was pinned, helpless.
Meanwhile, Joric slotted another bolt into his crossbow, cursing under his breath. Damn it! I was aiming for the head.
He glanced at Alaric struggling beneath the beast, his finger hesitating on the trigger. He decided against it. The first shot could be passed off as a mistake, a stray bolt in the chaos of battle. A second one would be a blatant attempt at murder, and he had no idea how the three Archons would react to that.
Joric wasn't willing to risk it. He cast one last look at Alaric’s losing battle and a cold smile touched his lips. Serves you right, you peasant. He turned away and began firing into the tide of wolves attacking the others.
Alaric thrashed with everything he had, trying to break free from the wolf’s crushing jaws. But no matter how he strained, he couldn’t overpower the beast.
His left arm was going numb. He gritted his teeth, his vision blurring, eyes stinging with tears that streamed unbidden down his face to mix with the grime and blood.
Images flashed through his mind: the struggles of his childhood, the day he found the Celestial Lily in the pond, the vision of the black-armored Magus standing alone against a thousand foes.
Alaric’s eyes became bloodshot, a savage fire kindling in their depths. That Magus fought thousands, he screamed in his heart, and I can't even fight one miserable beast?!
I can’t die here! I haven't even become a Magus!
A defiant rage roared to life within him, flooding his limbs with a strength he didn't know he possessed. His gaze fell upon the crossbow bolt jutting from his shoulder. With a guttural cry, he yanked it free.
“Aaaarrgggh!!” He roared, a beastlike sound, and gripped the blood-slick bolt, stabbing it deep into the wolf’s eye.
The wolf shrieked and released his arm, but it had no chance to escape. Alaric coiled his legs around its neck like a python, locking it in place. Then, he hammered his right fist down onto the end of the bolt.
With a sickening crunch, it drove deeper into the wolf's skull, piercing its brain. Alaric hammered his fist down again and again, a ruthless, desperate rhythm, until the wolf’s struggles ceased and it went limp.
When he was certain the beast was dead, the last of his adrenaline vanished, leaving him utterly spent. He collapsed, sprawling limply on the ground beneath the wolf’s heavy corpse.
A few moments later, he shoved the dead weight off his body and staggered to his feet. His left arm was a hideous ruin of mangled flesh and sinew. Drenched in blood, his own and the wolf's, he looked like a demon clawed up from the depths of hell.
He scanned the chaos, and his eyes locked onto Joric, who was calmly helping the others fend off the attack.
“I’ll kill you,” Alaric growled, the voice barely his own. He began to walk, a slow, inexorable shamble toward Joric, his body radiating a murderous intent he had never felt before.
He’d never taken the petty scuffles with the other children seriously. Now he saw how naive he had been. Just because he had no desire to kill didn’t mean others felt the same.
And to think Joric would try to murder him over something so trivial.
The moment Joric saw him coming, his knees gave out and he dropped to the ground. The sight of Alaric, caked in gore and stalking toward him with raw murder in his eyes, sent a tremor of pure fear through him.
He’s alive! Joric couldn't believe it. He had been so sure the wolf would finish him.
He raised his trembling hands. “Alaric, w-wait! It was a mistake, I p-promise!”
Alaric paid him no mind, his slow advance unwavering. He clutched the hilt of his sword, its blade long since shattered from the relentless fighting.
When he was just a few meters from Joric, a figure blurred into existence between them: a blond man with bright blue eyes, wearing an olive-colored cloak.
The blue-eyed man glanced at Joric, and the look alone was enough to make the boy flinch. Then his gaze shifted to the grievously wounded Alaric, who seemed utterly oblivious to his presence.
“This is not the time or the place for your dispute,” the man said calmly.
“But he—” Alaric started to protest.
“I said this is not the place,” the man interrupted, his tone sharp and leaving no room for argument.
Relief washed over Joric, and he scrambled to speak. “Thank you for saving me, sir. If not for you, I would have—”
“Shut it,” the blue-eyed man said, his voice dropping to an icy chill. “Don’t think I don’t know what you did.”
Shit! Joric gulped and lowered his head, unable to meet the man’s gaze.
Two more figures, a man and a woman, appeared beside the first. They wore identical olive cloaks, each emblazoned with a four-leaf clover insignia over the chest.
One of the men peered into the distance, his eyes fixing on a wolf slightly larger than the rest. “Seems to be on the verge of advancing to a Rank 2 Magic Beast,” he muttered.
“No wonder it could command such a large pack,” the blue-eyed man replied.
“Let’s combine our spells and get this over with,” the woman said succinctly.
The three Archons leaped as one, landing gracefully beyond the blockade of wooden carriages. As if sensing an immense and overwhelming danger, the surrounding wolves instinctively shrank back, clearing a wide circle around them.
“Alright,” the blue-eyed man said, cracking his knuckles. “Time to get to work.”