Chapter 147 up
The night in the northern forests was unusually quiet.
A thin mist drifted between the towering pines, clinging to the ground like pale smoke. The moon hung low in the sky, its silver light barely reaching the forest floor beneath the thick canopy.
For the wolves of Ironwood Pack, it had seemed like a normal night.
Their territory stretched across a wide valley surrounded by dense woodland and rocky hills. It was not the largest independent territory under Kael’s growing network, but it was strong, self-reliant, and fiercely proud of its independence.
Ironwood had chosen Kael’s ideology early.
Freedom.
No centralized authority.
No distant council deciding their fate.
They governed themselves.
Protected themselves.
And until tonight, they believed that independence made them safe.
They were wrong.
The first howl came just after midnight.
A sharp cry split the quiet forest.
Then another.
And another.
Inside the pack settlement—wooden lodges arranged around a central clearing—wolves burst from their homes, instincts instantly alert.
“What’s happening?”
“Where’s the patrol?”
A young guard sprinted into the clearing, breathless.
“Attackers!”
The Alpha of Ironwood Pack stepped forward immediately.
A tall, scarred wolf named Branik, whose thick dark fur and hardened expression told stories of many battles.
“How many?” he demanded.
The guard shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
His voice trembled slightly.
“They came out of nowhere.”
Another howl echoed through the forest.
But this one was different.
It was a howl of pain.
Branik’s eyes sharpened.
“Warriors with me.”
Within seconds, several experienced fighters followed him toward the forest edge.
The scent of blood was already spreading through the night air.
And beneath it—
Something else.
Something strange.
Metal.
Oil.
And unfamiliar wolves.
They didn’t have to search long.
The attackers emerged from the shadows like ghosts.
Masked.
Armored.
Moving with frightening coordination.
Branik’s warriors spread out instinctively, forming a defensive line.
“Who are you?” Branik growled.
No answer came.
Instead, one of the attackers stepped forward.
On the shoulder of his armor was a clear symbol.
A silver emblem.
A crescent wolf surrounded by interlocking lines.
The mark of the Alliance.
Branik froze.
“What…?”
The attacker raised his weapon.
And the fight began.
Chaos exploded across the clearing.
The attackers moved with brutal efficiency.
They were not raiders.
They were trained soldiers.
Blades flashed beneath moonlight.
Gunfire cracked through the forest.
Branik lunged at the nearest attacker, claws tearing through armor, but another masked soldier struck him from behind.
One of Ironwood’s warriors collapsed beside him.
Another fell moments later.
The attackers didn’t shout.
They didn’t taunt.
They fought silently.
Relentlessly.
And worst of all—
They wore the Alliance symbol openly.
Within minutes the settlement had turned into a battlefield.
Houses burned.
Wolves cried out in pain.
Warriors fought desperately to protect their families.
Branik roared with fury as he slammed another attacker into the ground.
“Cowards!”
He grabbed the man’s armor and snarled,
“You think hiding behind symbols will scare us?”
The attacker said nothing.
Instead, he pulled a blade from his belt and slashed Branik across the shoulder before disappearing back into the chaos.
Then, just as suddenly as the attack began—
The masked soldiers retreated.
They vanished into the forest darkness as quickly as they had arrived.
Leaving behind smoke.
Blood.
And bodies.
The silence that followed felt heavier than the battle itself.
By dawn, the damage was undeniable.
Several homes had been destroyed.
Warriors lay wounded across the clearing.
And five wolves of Ironwood Pack were dead.
Branik stood at the center of the settlement, blood still dripping from his arm.
His gaze was fixed on something lying in the dirt.
A piece of armor.
Torn away during the battle.
The silver symbol gleamed clearly against the metal surface.
The Alliance emblem.
One of his lieutenants approached quietly.
“Alpha…”
Branik didn’t look up.
“Send word.”
The lieutenant hesitated.
“To who?”
Branik’s voice hardened.
“To Kael.”
Several hours later, in the northern stronghold where independent leaders often gathered, Kael stood in a strategy chamber reviewing patrol reports.
Torren lounged nearby, flipping through a stack of territory messages.
“Another border argument,” Torren muttered.
“Two packs arguing over river access.”
Kael barely looked up.
“Handle it.”
Torren shrugged.
“Already did.”
He tossed the report aside.
Just as he reached for another message, the chamber doors burst open.
A messenger rushed inside.
“Kael.”
His voice was tense.
“We just received an emergency report from Ironwood Pack.”
Kael looked up immediately.
“What happened?”
The messenger handed him a digital report tablet.
“Attack during the night.”
Kael began reading.
The room grew very quiet.
Torren watched Kael’s expression carefully.
Then Kael reached a particular section of the report.
His eyes narrowed.
“What is it?” Torren asked.
Kael turned the screen toward him.
Torren read the line.
Then blinked.
“Wait…”
He leaned closer.
“Alliance symbols?”
The room went still.
Kael placed the tablet down slowly.
“How many casualties?”
The messenger answered quietly.
“Five confirmed dead.”
Torren exhaled sharply.
“Damn.”
Kael remained silent for several seconds.
His mind was racing.
The Alliance attacking an independent pack?
It made no sense.
Lyra knew what that would trigger.
War.
And Lyra was not reckless.
Torren seemed to reach the same conclusion.
“You don’t believe it.”
Kael shook his head.
“No.”
Torren folded his arms.
“Could be a rogue alliance unit.”
Kael didn’t dismiss the idea completely.
But something still felt wrong.
“Describe the attackers,” Kael said to the messenger.
The messenger checked the report.
“Masked.”
“Coordinated.”
“Highly trained.”
Kael’s gaze sharpened.
“Did they say anything?”
“No.”
“Did they try to occupy the territory?”
“No.”
Torren frowned.
“So they just attacked… and left?”
The messenger nodded.
“Yes.”
Kael’s mind clicked into place.
“That’s not conquest.”
Torren raised an eyebrow.
“Then what is it?”
Kael answered quietly.
“Provocation.”
The word hung heavily in the room.
Torren understood immediately.
“You’re thinking someone wants us to blame the Alliance.”
Kael nodded.
Torren rubbed his chin.
“And if we retaliate…”
Kael finished the thought.
“War begins.”
Silence filled the chamber again.
Because suddenly the situation felt much larger than one attack.
Torren looked toward the window, where the northern forests stretched endlessly into the distance.
“Well,” he muttered.
“That’s concerning.”
Kael picked up the report again.
His gaze returned to the Alliance symbol mentioned in the report.
Lyra’s emblem.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Because he knew her.
He trusted her.
And everything he understood about Lyra told him one thing.
She would never order something like this.
Not without warning.
Not without reason.
Torren finally asked the obvious question.
“So what now?”
Kael opened his eyes.
“We investigate.”
Torren nodded slowly.
“Quietly.”
Kael turned back toward the map of territories on the wall.
If someone was trying to provoke war between the Alliance and the independent territories…
Then this attack was only the beginning.
And somewhere out there—
Someone was waiting for the world to explode.
Kael’s voice was calm when he spoke again.
“Send scouts.”
The messenger straightened.
“To Ironwood?”
“Yes.”
Kael’s eyes hardened.
“And beyond.”
Torren smirked slightly.
“Hunting ghosts?”
Kael didn’t smile.
“No.”
His gaze lingered on the map.
“Finding whoever is trying to start a war.”