Chapter 6– Wolves Among Men
Ashen using the mana overload method broke Lucian's shackles too.
They exchanged a brief, silent glance, no words, only the shared understanding that hesitation meant death. The campfire's crackle masked the sound of their chains falling onto the frozen dirt.
They saw the drunk slavers laughing around the flames, backs turned, unaware that two shadows were already closing in.
Auron watched them for a heartbeat. Counted each breath. Each sound. Each man.
Then, without a word, he moved.
Snow hissed beneath boots. Steel flashed. The world became a blur of motion and breath.
A small group of slavers sat around a campfire, bottles in hand, bellies full, their laughter tearing through the quiet night. They did not even realize what had struck them.
Auron drew a small blade from his sleeve,a slim piece of tempered steel that caught the firelight and sang for blood.
In a single, silver flash, three men's heads rolled onto the snow.
he had hidden that blade in his garments earlier.
Lucian froze, his breath catching in his throat. "He's—using mana?"
He had been called a prodigy back home for forming his first mana circle at twelve. Yet the boy before him noticeably younger wielded mana effortlessly, without a chant or seal, his body moving like a predator born from the cold. Auron's output wasn't merely raw, it was refined if felt like it was being guided by someone or something. It was the level of output of a one-star knight in the body of a child.
Before Lucian could speak again, a slaver saw the carnage and shouted, voice splitting the night.
"MOTHER F*CKERRR—YOU DARE!"
Every head turned. In seconds, the entire camp erupted into shouts.
Steel scraped. Boots stomped. Torches flared.
"Shit," Auron muttered.
"Shit," Lucian echoed.
They stood back-to-back, surrounded by twenty men—two knights by the look of their aura roughly 1-star knight, five seasoned fighters who appeared to able to weild mana, the rest rabble but armed.
The air turned thick with killing intent.
Truth be told, both boys were gifted. But genius could never replace blood-earned experience. no amount of books or advice could replace experience that came firsthand
The first slaver came—a burly brute with a cleaver.
Auron didn't wait. He ducked under the swing, stepped inside the man's guard, and carved his blade across his hamstring.
The brute howled, collapsing to his knees. Auron drove his knee into his jaw, snapping it with a crunch.
Another came from behind. Auron twisted, snatching the dying man's cleaver mid-fall, and buried it in the newcomer's ribs.
Lucian's breath trembled, his hands glowing faintly blue. He raised them then the mana condensed around his palms, frost forming midair.
"!" he shouted, and a wave of ice spears exploded forward. Three slavers stabbed in the hearts, frozen in place, their weapons half-drawn.
But Lucian's body jerked as mana recoil hit, his veins glowing faintly from the strain.
Auron didn't waste the moment. He dashed forward, slicing through the three men's necks in one fluid sweep.
Blood misted the air, painting snow crimson.
"Conserve your strength," Auron said sharply.
Lucian nodded, panting. "You fight like - like you've killed before."
"Don't talk," Auron replied, stepping over bodies. "Move."
Two knights moved next, coordinating like wolves. Their blades glowed faintly a sign of tempered mana channeling. They weren't drunk like the others. poisons and alcohol slowly lost effect as one god stronger
Auron felt his heart slow, the bracelet's hum syncing with his breath. His world narrowed. He remembered Godfrey's voice which was cold, calm.
Move where they don't expect. Strike when they think you're afraid.
The first knight lunged. Auron sidestepped, deflecting with the flat of his dagger, and slammed his shoulder into the man's chest.
Sparks scattered. The second came from the side, Lucian raised his hand, firing a compressed frost bolt. It shattered against the man's sword, knocking him off balance long enough for Auron to strike.
He pivoted, reversed grip, and plunged the dagger through the knight's eye.
The other swung down in rage. Auron twisted aside, caught the man's wrist, and wrenched it backward until the bones popped. Then he spun and slit the man's throat cleanly.
Five more came rushing, mana user fighters, shouting, their blades swinging wide.
Lucian raised both hands this time. Mana coalesced ,unstable, trembling. "Cover me!"
Auron dove into their midst. A slash grazed his shoulder; another tore his sleeve. He caught one sword barehanded, blood spilling from his palm, and yanked it forward to impale its wielder on his own blade.
Lucian finished his chant. "Frost Converge!"
A circle flared beneath his feet. Shards of ice erupted from the ground, impaling two men mid-charge. A wave of frigid wind followed, sweeping through the camp and dimming the torches.
But it was too much, Lucian coughed blood, falling to one knee.
"Idiot!" Auron hissed, kicking a corpse aside to cover him. He snatched up a fallen longsword and hurled it across the camp. It pierced another slaver through the chest, pinning him to a tree.
The last few tried to flee. Auron didn't let them.
He ran. The snow crunched beneath him fast, fluid, relentless. He leapt onto one man's back, slitting his throat before landing in a roll. The final slaver turned, terrified, swinging wildly. Auron sidestepped, grabbed him by the hair, and slammed his face into the burning logs of the campfire.
The man screamed until he couldn't anymore.
Silence followed.
The fire crackled again, feeding on the corpses. Blood steamed where it touched the snow.
Lucian sat trembling, clutching his wrist, eyes wide. "They're… all dead."
Auron didn't answer. His blade dripped red, his breath heavy but measured.
He looked around twenty bodies, maybe more. The cold air stank of smoke and iron.
the other slaves were trembling watching these youths unfold death. too shocked to even make a sound.
Then, a sound.
Crunch.
Bootsteps. Slow. Heavy.
From the darkness beyond the campfire, a shadow emerged. Silver hair caught the faint glow. The sound of metal dragging against the earth filled the silence.
Asher.
He stood there, axe resting on his shoulder, watching the two boys like a wolf returning to find its den destroyed.
"Well," he said, voice calm, almost amused. "Seems you've been busy."
" i go out scouting for ten minutes and some pups DARE run wild in my home"
Lucian tensed. "Auron—"
"I know," Auron murmured. His grip tightened on the dagger, eyes narrowing.
The knight smiled faintly, stepping closer. "Let's see what the little lions are made of."
The firelight danced across his armor. Behind him, the wind howled.
The real fight had only just begun.