Rankbrecker – Chapter 9: The Stone and the Storm
A dark tide of wolves surged forward. Opposite them, a skittish cluster of foxes held their ground, their nervous shifts rippling through the group. In the narrow valley, the air grew thick and heavy. From his perch high on a tall stone, Ji-Hoon watched—wide-eyed, exhausted, every sense screaming.
He saw the foxes begin a slow, tactical retreat as the wolves advanced, their heavy paws crushing stone. Younger foxes curled their tails in fear. Then, from their ranks, a line of adults stepped forward. Their calm was deliberate, their postures coiled. The elites.
Ji-Hoon's heart hammered against his ribs.
If just one of them looks up while I'm climbing… I'm dead.
His jaw tightened. What is this mess? Think. Maybe they won't see this stone. Maybe I can still get out.
A colder thought followed.
And then what? Even if I climb, I'll have to fight. I'll have to kill.
Layla's voice echoed in his memory: "You will gain the Crimson Moon's power."
But how?he screamed inwardly. Moonlight? Meditation? Some stupid ritual? She wouldn't tell him. He was on his own.
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The elite foxes fanned out, using the tall stone as a strategic anchor. The wolves closed the distance—a vanguard of monstrous beasts, far larger than the rest. The foxes seemed outmatched, but Ji-Hoon saw the cunning.
They were pushing the weak forward first.
A brutal, efficient trick. Let the enemy waste their fury on fodder, grow tired, grow slow—then strike.
These things are smarter than they look, Ji-Hoon realized, a chill spreading through his gut.
The gap between the packs vanished.
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The clash was not a battle; it was an eruption.
A wolf the size of a cow lunged, and a young fox crumpled. The giant beast thundered forward, merciless, a wave of fur and fury following in its wake.
Ji-Hoon froze.
These were not animals. They were forces of nature—terrifying, relentless.
If I were down there… I'd be less than meat.
More wolves poured in, black fur bristling, scarlet drool splattering the ground. They charged with mindless hunger, tearing into anything that moved.
Ji-Hoon's throat went dry.
Maybe if they kill each other… maybe I can slip away…
He hadn't slept. He had survived pain, hunger, and primal fear, only to be trapped in a stone crack where a single sound meant a bloody end.
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Chaos consumed the valley. Bodies fell. Dust and cries filled the air. Yet the elite foxes held, moving with lethal precision, dropping ordinary wolves with swift, brutal strikes.
For a fleeting second, a tired smile touched Ji-Hoon's lips—before reality clamped down.
He couldn't stay.
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Moving was agony. Ji-Hoon began to squeeze himself from the crack, every muscle protesting. The stone tower was three stories of fragile, layered rock. Climbing it would be a shouting announcement of his presence.
This isn't some fantasy tale. This is real. And it's trying to kill me.
The stone itself felt treacherous, likely to crumble under his weight.
If I climb, I'm seen. If I stay, I die. If I run, I die. I need another path—in, not out.
His eyes desperately scanned the stone face. There was no easy escape.
Pressed against the cold rock, mind racing, he almost missed it—
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A roar tore through the battlefield.
It wasn't loud; it was heavy. It vibrated in the teeth and the bones. Every fox froze. Every wolf stilled.
Ji-Hoon's blood turned to ice.
Something had arrived.
Something that made the wolves seem like pups.
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