The spear struck the wolf across the chest.
Not hard enough to pierce.
Hard enough to stop its leap.
The beast twisted in the air and hit the road on its side, claws scraping against packed earth. Before it could recover, Aric stepped forward and drove the butt of the spear into its shoulder.
The wolf snarled and rolled away.
A second beast lunged from the slope.
Aric turned toward it, but Garran reached him first. The caravan leader swung his sword in a short, controlled arc that forced the wolf to veer away before it could reach the wagon.
"Ten seconds?" Garran shouted.
"I said I needed them," Aric replied.
"That was not the same as explaining what you planned to do with them!"
Aric barely heard him.
The wolves were moving faster now.
Three remained in sight. More shapes shifted behind the trees, hidden by branches and uneven ground. They had expected the caravan to panic. Instead, the first attack had forced them into a narrow approach where only one or two could enter at a time.
That advantage would not last.
Aric stepped sideways, keeping the wagon at his back. The cart blocked one angle of attack and reduced the space the wolves could use to circle him. It also meant he had less room to retreat.
That was acceptable.
Retreat was not always the safest option.
Sometimes it only gave the enemy more room.
A wolf darted toward Lysa at the rear.
She released an arrow.
The shaft struck the ground directly in front of the beast. It flinched, turned its head, and gave her the moment she needed to draw again.
"You call that a warning shot?" Aric shouted.
"I call it saving the arrow for something important!"
"That one looked important!"
"It looked ugly!"
The wolf sprang again.
This time, Lysa's arrow struck its foreleg. The beast crashed into the roadside brush with a howl.
The drivers shouted as the horses began to pull against their reins.
"Hold them!" Garran yelled.
One of the older drivers wrapped both arms around the nearest horse's bridle while another moved between the animals and the trees, speaking to them in a low, steady voice.
The caravan did not break.
That mattered more than Aric had expected.
He had seen people freeze during danger. He had also seen trained soldiers lose formation when fear reached the animals under their care. These drivers were frightened, but they were still doing their jobs.
The wolves noticed it too.
Their attack became less cautious.
The scarred leader descended from the slope.
It was larger than the others, with dark fur, a thick neck, and eyes that never left Aric. It did not charge immediately. It moved in a slow half-circle, searching for the weakest point in the defense.
The System appeared.
[Hostile leader identified.]
[Estimated threat: Above common Fang Wolf.]
[Behavior: Testing formation. Waiting for a defensive error.]
Aric kept his gaze on the beast.
"Can you identify the species?"
[Insufficient information.]
"Useful."
[The answer remains accurate.]
The scarred wolf suddenly snapped toward the nearest horse.
The animal reared.
The formation bent.
That was all the opening the pack needed.
Two wolves rushed from opposite sides.
Aric moved before he had time to think.
He stepped between the wagon and the road, lowered his center of gravity, and swept the spear in a wide arc. The first wolf met the shaft across the ribs and was thrown sideways. The second ducked beneath the weapon and came in low.
Aric released one hand from the spear and struck downward with his elbow.
The impact caught the beast across the jaw.
It staggered, but did not fall.
Its claws tore across Aric's outer sleeve and scraped his arm beneath the fabric.
Pain flashed across his skin.
The wolf opened its mouth.
Aric drove his knee into its chest, shoved it back with the spear shaft, and finished the movement with a short thrust that struck the creature in the shoulder.
The wolf collapsed hard enough to shake the dirt.
[Minor injury detected.]
[HP: 272 / 280]
Aric stepped back.
The number settled into his mind immediately.
Eight points.
Not dangerous.
Still worth remembering.
He could not afford to treat every wound as meaningless simply because it was survivable.
The scarred wolf came at him.
This time, it did not test the line.
It attacked with full force.
Aric brought the spear across his body. The wolf hit the shaft with enough strength to drive him half a step backward. Its jaws snapped inches from his face.
The spear bowed between them.
Aric's boots dug into the dirt.
For one brief moment, he and the beast were locked together.
Then the wolf twisted.
The spear slipped.
Aric released the weapon before it could be ripped from his hands.
The wolf's weight carried it forward.
Aric stepped inside the bite, seized the thick fur behind its neck, and drove his shoulder into its chest. They crashed against the side of the wagon.
The impact rattled the wooden frame.
The wolf thrashed.
Aric's grip slipped.
He felt claws rake across his side.
A sharp breath escaped him.
The beast pulled back to bite again.
Aric found the spear with his right hand.
The weapon lay angled beneath the wagon wheel, close enough to reach if he committed fully.
He dropped low, seized the shaft, and pulled.
The wolf lunged.
Aric turned with the motion instead of resisting it. He dragged the spear free and brought it up between them.
The blade drove into the wolf's lower chest.
The beast gave a violent jerk.
Aric pushed harder.
The spearhead broke through.
The wolf fell against him, suddenly heavy, and slid to the ground at his feet.
For a second, the road went quiet.
Then the remaining wolves retreated several steps.
Not far.
Just enough to reconsider.
Aric pulled the spear free and took one slow breath.
The System appeared.
[Hostile leader incapacitated.]
[Immediate encirclement threat reduced.]
[Estimated remaining hostile entities: Four to six.]
Aric looked toward the slope.
The hidden movement had stopped.
The pack was waiting to see whether the caravan would pursue.
That was the mistake it wanted.
"Don't chase them," Aric said.
Garran, who had blood on his cheek from a shallow cut, turned toward him. "I wasn't planning to."
"Good."
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm trying to remain professional."
"You killed their leader."
"It was trying to kill me."
"That usually complicates professionalism."
Behind them, Lysa lowered her bow slightly.
The injured wolf near the brush had disappeared into the trees, leaving a dark trail across the leaves. The other wounded beast was still moving, but it no longer had the strength to approach.
Garran looked at the bridge.
"Can we cross now?"
Aric wiped the blood from the side of his face and glanced toward the wagons.
The first attack had not destroyed the caravan, but the horses were unsettled, and the bridge railing was still broken. If another wave came while the wagons were spread across the crossing, the defense would collapse.
"Repair the railing enough for the lead wagon," he said. "Then move one cart at a time. No gaps."
Garran nodded.
The drivers returned to the damaged bridge with shaking hands. This time, no one complained about the delay.
Aric remained near the tree line, spear held low.
The System gave no further warning.
That did not mean the danger was gone.
It only meant the pack had chosen not to reveal what it would do next.
Lysa came to stand beside him.
"You're bleeding."
"So are you."
She looked down at the cut across his sleeve. "Mine is not from a wolf."
"You should still clean it."
"That sounded almost caring."
"I'm capable of useful observations."
She glanced at the dead leader behind them.
"You've fought wolves before?"
"Different ones."
"These weren't ordinary Fang Wolves."
"I noticed."
"You killed that one without a sword."
"I had a spear."
"That is not what I meant."
Aric studied the forest. "The weapon matters less than the distance."
Lysa was quiet for a moment.
Then she said, "You're not what I expected."
"I've heard that before."
"Does it bother you?"
"Only when people say it before they explain what they expected."
She smiled despite herself.
The first wagon began crossing the bridge.
The horses hesitated at the broken railing, but the drivers kept their voices calm. One cart rolled across, then another. The caravan moved slowly, each wagon following the one before it.
Aric waited until the final cart passed.
Only then did he retrieve one of the wolf's broken fangs from the roadside.
The System appeared again.
[Material acquired: Dark Wolf Fang.]
[Potential uses: Crafting, alchemy, trade, identification.]
Aric turned the fang between his fingers.
"Dark wolf?"
[Temporary classification based on visible traits.]
"So you still don't know what they are."
[Correct.]
"Then don't name them as if you do."
[Classification is not identification.]
Aric slid the fang into a cloth pouch.
"That distinction is going to become annoying."
[It already has.]
By the time he crossed the bridge, the caravan had regained its formation.
Garran stood beside the lead wagon, looking toward the western road.
"We're not stopping here," he said.
"Agreed."
"We'll reach the next waystation before evening if the horses keep their pace."
Aric looked back at the forest.
The pack had withdrawn.
But it had not fled.
That meant the encounter was not finished.
He rested one hand on the spear and walked beside the lead wagon as the caravan continued west.
Behind them, the broken bridge disappeared into the distance.
Ahead waited the road, the hills, and whatever had taught a pack of wolves to test a caravan like soldiers.