Chapter 161
Kane's POV
The cold morning wind swept across the Gobi, whipping fine grains of sand against my face.
I squinted, studying the deep wagon ruts carved into the ground—much deeper than those left by ordinary merchant caravans, indicating massive loads. Campfire ashes were piled in regular circles, surrounded by neatly arranged traces of an encampment.
This was no ordinary rogue camp.
Steven approached, lowering his voice. "Kane, look over there." He pointed toward the remains of a ransacked caravan in the distance. "The supply crates are stacked neatly, like someone sorted them deliberately."
I moved closer and discovered that among the plundered goods, children's clothing and dried provisions had been neatly packed and taken, while valuable silks and gold and silver ornaments lay scattered on the ground, ignored.
The raiders had only taken survival necessities...
Blaze murmured deep in my consciousness, "Maybe they're struggling to survive too."
I shook my head, pushing the thought down. I had no right to sympathize with enemies now. Our own people were starving back at camp, waiting for me to win Stone Ridge Pack's protection.
The group continued forward, young warriors gripping their weapons tight. I could feel their fear—after all, we numbered only thirteen, while the enemy reportedly had over twenty.
But no one suggested retreat, because everyone understood this was our only chance.
By afternoon, we reached the high ground of the valley.
Looking down, my original assumption of "a loose gang of around twenty" was brutally demolished by reality.
Tents were arranged in military formation throughout the camp, with at least fifty robust warriors gathered around the campfires. Each was equipped with weapons that, though somewhat damaged, had clearly been carefully maintained. What alarmed me more was that their positioning and shift rotation patterns showed traces of formal military training.
Watchtowers, barricades, and patrol posts surrounded the camp perimeter.
Steven sucked in a sharp breath beside me. "This isn't a band of rogues—this is... a warrior company?"
My pupils contracted.
Blaze questioned in my mind, "Is Flint trying to get us killed?"
I hesitated. Retreat meant my people would be forever rejected and wandering, while attack meant throwing eggs against rocks—almost certain death.
I thought of Dorothy and the people waiting at camp, and clenched my jaw. I had to try.
I lay at the cliff's edge, using the wind's advantage to faintly hear voices carrying from the camp's center.
A scarred, burly man was giving a speech, fragmentary phrases drifting on the wind.
"Brothers, hold on a little longer..."
"Once we've gathered enough supplies, we can..."
These people had a clear objective, but I had no time to investigate further.
The countdown pressure and the massive gap in strength—I had to find a way to win with fewer numbers.
"Send two men to infiltrate and sabotage their weapons cache to create chaos," I ordered in a low voice.
Two agile warriors nodded and set off, sneaking toward the camp.
Steven and I led the remaining fighters to ambush positions on both sides of the mountain pass, waiting for the signal.
Time crawled by. My palms grew sweaty, and Blaze grew restless in my consciousness.
Suddenly, a sharp cry rang out from the camp's edge.
My heart sank! The plan was exposed.
Crossbow bolts rained down from the watchtower as our infiltrators fled in panic. Alarms erupted throughout the camp as the scarred man swiftly blew a horn, and the rogue warriors formed battle formation with alarming speed.
"We're exposed! All units attack! Quick strike!" I gave the order through gritted teeth.
There was no way back now.
I charged first, shifting into Blaze—a black wolf tearing through the twilight like lightning. My claws ripped into the shoulder of the first warrior who met me.
Steven and the other warriors shifted into wolf form and followed, a dozen wolves clashing with fifty-plus elite fighters in the narrow mountain pass in a bloody battle.
This wasn't a simple cleanup mission—this was a hard fight.
The scarred man shifted into a gray-brown wolf, slightly larger than Blaze, with multiple old scars on his neck. His gaze was steady and sharp, each attack precise and lethal.
I relied on speed to maneuver, but his defense was impenetrable.
Comrades fell one after another around me—Steven fought on despite a crossbow bolt piercing his left shoulder, a young warrior was badly injured by three enemies coordinating their assault.
From the corner of my eye I saw my comrades' desperate fight, my heart bleeding, but the battle allowed no distraction.
In the chaos, Steven staggered backward from blood loss, and an enemy seized the opportunity to thrust a spear at his heart. At the same time, the gray-brown wolf lunged at my neck with jaws wide—an angle that could snap my spine.
I had no time to think.
My body made the choice instinctively—I abandoned evasion, letting the wolf's fangs pierce my back while using that impact to whip my tail violently, sweeping away the enemy about to impale Steven.
Agony flooded through me instantly. Blaze roared in my consciousness, "You're insane! You'll die!" But I clenched my teeth, forcing myself not to collapse.
The tearing sensation in my spine turned my vision black, warm blood flowing down my fur.
As the gray-brown wolf released his fangs, I saw something complex flash in his eyes—not a victor's contempt, but rather some kind of unexpected reaction.
But the battlefield gave him no time to dwell on it. He growled and his claws struck again at my exposed belly.
I forced myself to roll away, the wound on my back tearing deeper as it scraped the ground, leaving a horrifying trail of blood behind me.
Looking around, the battle was brutal. Of my thirteen-person team, three lay in pools of blood having lost combat capability, and the rest were all wounded. Though the enemy had casualties too, those militarily trained warriors maintained terrible discipline, methodically tightening their encirclement.
I dragged my mangled body upright with difficulty. Blaze's black fur had been dyed almost dark red with blood. Not far away, Steven knelt on one knee gasping for breath, blood still pouring from his arrow wound. The remaining warriors formed a circle back-to-back, raising their weapons with their last strength.
The scarred leader and his men slowly closed in, like hunters surrounding cornered prey.
Just then, a piercing wolf howl rang out from the distance—the voice was unfamiliar yet clear, carrying the wildness of something newly awakened and some instinctive fury!
Blaze suddenly said excitedly in my consciousness, "I smell my Mate!"
I froze, unable to believe it.
How could the scent of a fated mate appear in such desperate circumstances?
But that scent was indeed approaching, carrying a purity and intensity I'd never felt before.
I raised my head, peering through my blood-blurred vision toward where the sound came from—