Chapter 80 The Blood of the Wolf Clan’s Warriors Will Not Be Shed in Vain

Chapter 80 The Blood of the Wolf Clan’s Warriors Will Not Be Shed in Vain

Sophia laughed, but the laugh only lasted a second before turning into a cough. She pressed her hand to her chest, coughed a few times, then leaned back against the pillow.

Cole sat on the edge of the bed and took her cold hand in his.

"Did Heinrich find anything?" Sophia looked at Cole, her eyes full of concern. "Cole, don't hide things from me. My body might not be up for fighting right now, but I need to know what you're up against — so we can prepare together and face it together."

Cole was quiet for a few seconds, then told her everything — the Council of Nine, the Twelve Seals, Ragnarök.

Sophia listened, and was silent for a long moment before she spoke.

"So the war isn't over?"

"It's not that it isn't over — the real war hasn't even started yet." Cole looked into Sophia's amber eyes, his voice steady and sincere. "Odin was just the opening move. The real enemy hasn't shown themselves yet."

"And it's not one enemy. It's eight. Maybe more."

"Cole." Sophia's voice was soft but firm. "I burned through my Phoenix core — not so I could lie in a bed in Tromsø waiting for you to come back. I burned it so I could walk with you all the way to the end."

Cole looked at her face, pale and worn, her lips almost drained of color.

But there was nothing in her eyes that said she wanted to give up.

"You have to be able to stand first, before we can walk anywhere together." Cole smiled a little.

"I'll be standing tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's too soon."

"Then the day after."

Cole sighed. He knew he couldn't win an argument with her. He never could.

"We'll talk about it the day after," he said.

Sophia gave a satisfied nod and closed her eyes.

Her breathing slowly evened out, her fingers still resting in Cole's palm.

Cole sat on the edge of the bed, listening to her breathe.

Outside the cabin, someone was shouting something in Norwegian — probably orders to prepare for docking.

Footsteps moved back and forth in the hallway.

The door was pushed open a crack.

Gunnar's wheelchair squeezed through. The wheels caught on the threshold and he swore in Norwegian, then forced his way in.

"Heinrich said you wanted me," Gunnar said.

"I didn't ask for you."

"Then he did." Gunnar shrugged and used his one remaining right hand to wheel himself toward the bed. "Either way, I'm here."

He looked at Sophia sleeping on the bed and lowered his voice a little.

"I heard about the hard drive."

"All of it?"

"More or less. Council of Nine, Twelve Seals, Ragnarök." Gunnar said the words out loud. "Sounds like an album name from some trashy metal band."

Cole didn't laugh at the dark joke.

Gunnar chuckled to himself, then slowly let his expression go serious. "When we blew up the supply depot, I intercepted a transmission. Encrypted — using old German Navy cipher from World War II. I thought it was strange. Who uses that kind of code anymore."

"What did it say?"

"One line: 'The Council of Nine has activated the Ragnarök Protocol.'" Gunnar said. "At the time I figured it was Odin running his mouth. All that stuff he was doing at Raven's Nest — the god-making, the chaos energy — it was already insane enough. I thought 'Ragnarök' was just what he called his own madness."

"Turns out it wasn't."

"Turns out it wasn't." Gunnar repeated it. "Eight people even crazier than him, ready to blow the whole world apart."

He was quiet for a few seconds, then suddenly let out a short laugh.

"You know what the most messed-up part is?"

"What?"

"I just figured out how to wipe my ass with my left hand," Gunnar said. "And now I've got to figure out how to fight a war with my brain."

Cole looked at him. Gunnar's left pant leg hung empty. Everything below his left shoulder was gone. The bandaging was thick.

But he was still smiling.

"You could stay in Tromsø," Cole said. "Run the rear command."

"Bullshit," Gunnar said. "I might be missing some parts, but my head's still all there. Give me the European front — I won't let The Volchatnik cross the Rhine. Not one step."

"You're in a wheelchair."

"So what?" Gunnar slapped the armrest. "You can still command from a wheelchair. This thing can even hold a cup holder. I could drink coffee during a battle. Can you say the same?"

Cole started to say something, then just shook his head.

Gunnar laughed once, then turned the wheelchair half around to face Cole.

"Cole, I've noticed something about you. You carry everything yourself. Carry too much for too long, and it'll break you."

Cole was quiet for a while.

Then he stood up and walked to the porthole.

The water was narrowing.

Land appeared on both sides — gray rocky coastline dusted with a thin layer of snow.

In the distance, a lighthouse was flashing. Once every five seconds.

"We're almost at Tromsø," he said.

Gunnar wheeled over to the window and craned his neck to look.

"Son of a bitch, finally," he said. "I'm done with this piece of junk ship. Bed's too short, shower water's freezing, and the coffee is instant."

"And The Volchatnik is chasing us."

"That's secondary." Gunnar grinned. "The real problem is the coffee."

Cole didn't respond.

He watched the coastline in the distance, watched the lighthouse blink in the dark.

Tromsø harbor.

"I'll send everything on the hard drive to all the branches before we dock," Cole said. "Then we need a full meeting. Everyone."

"Done," Gunnar said. "I'll get everyone together."

Cole walked back to the bed.

Sophia was still asleep, her breathing shallow and slow.

He reached out and brushed the white hair away from her forehead. His fingers touched her skin — cold.

She frowned slightly, mumbled something, then rolled over and kept sleeping.

Cole stood by the bed for a moment, then walked out of the medical bay.

He went up to the deck.

The sea wind hit him head-on, cold enough to cut.

He took a deep breath and let the cold air fill his lungs.

Marcus was still on deck, leaning against the railing, smoking.

He saw Cole and held one out.

Cole took it, put it between his lips, and borrowed Marcus's lighter.

"That stuff Heinrich said," Marcus exhaled a lungful of smoke. "Is it real?"

"It's real."

"Damn."

He took another drag and let it out.

"So what do we do now?"

"Go back first. Rest up. Have a meeting," Cole said. "Nine council members, eleven seals. We go through them one by one."

"Isn't that slow?"

"There's no other way," Cole said. "With the people we have right now, we can't even hold a single seal point. We need time to recover."

Marcus nodded and flicked his cigarette butt into the sea.

The ship sounded its horn.

A black flag with a gold wolf rose up on the dock, snapping hard in the wind.

Cole watched the flag, and tightened his grip on the wolf-tooth pendant at his chest.

Kyle's blood. Old Eric's blood. The blood of the wolf warriors.

He would not let it be for nothing.