Chapter 176: A Brawl with Magic
Chapter 176: A Brawl with Magic
Thorne’s POV
This time around, the call comes while we are already assembled in the field, no sounds except the songs of the trees as they sway in the wind.
Several hours ago, we had brought in reinforcements to help with the sorcery aspects of this war, and even if my guards will not say it, I know that they are relieved we at least have a cover.
Nyra stands at the far end of the field, hidden away from the main chaos while she watches for any shady signs from the Nighthorn pack. It was a stretch, seeing as her abilities are not nearly as polished as an average Nighthorn wolf. But I knew she was the most perfect person for the job as soon as I heard of it.
Nyra may not show it, although a few observant people may see it— but she is not like the rest of us. Purely born a wolf of noble blood, she had somehow strayed a little from the path of regular wolves as she took a formidable interest in sorcery. It was an itch that she could not shake. And so, even after spending years trying to be the silent and docile little princess that her father wanted her to be, she still couldn’t bear to give up that interest she had. I dare say it is a calling, although she doesn’t claim it as her identity.
But Nyra is as good as any bloodwillow out there. Which makes her perfect for this moment.
Rhyder being the absolute asshat he is, abhorred the idea of his only daughter becoming a lowly witch in some random hut and tried everything to get Nyra to forsake the interest. Even going as far as burning Nyra’s favorite willow as a child alive right in front of her.
Needless to say, that was the beginning of the father-daughter war going on between them these days. Last I heard, Rhyder was convinced his daughter was dead. And Nyra established that her father was also dead. Dead to her.
A strong pungent smell wafts through my nose, choking up my throat. I hear stifled coughs from around me and immediately look forward. That is the smell of magic, which means they must be close. I look behind me, waiting to see the light at the far back of the field. As soon as it flickers, I let out a sigh. We are good to go.
“If you see the neon light from where you are, that means that the magic they come with is something that I can handle. If not then…”. Nyra’s words replay in my mind as I wait for my opponents to come to the field. The smell gets stronger as they approach, causing a stir among my guards.
A thought pops into my head.
“Silverpine”. I voice out the name of the herb that my father used to crush to block out the smell of magic. “Get it from the woods”. I tell Carlos beside me, who nods his head and disappears into the woods.
Moments later, he materializes from the woods with a few branches of leaves in his mouth. “Have Morra crush them and spread out”.
He does as I say, taking them to the far back of the field. Seconds later, a much fresher scent drifts from behind the field, muting and fading off the pungent odor of magic that our opponents are coming with. Sighs of relief erupt from my guards around me, but our celebration doesn’t last long because before we know it, there are wolves leaping out of the woods in their numbers, running towards us.
“Do not let them touch you!” Carlos barks out as we await their impact.
The Nighthorn are not noble or polished wolves. They are more on the rogue side, to put it simply, but they became a part of the Council because the assembly was in need of their sorcery skills.
The wolves fly over us like rabid dogs, strange sounds coming from their throats as they attempt to tear, stab and bite any one in sight. I stand in my spot and scan the field, although it is in complete and total uproar with wolves flying in the air like fleas, I still manage to find who I am looking for. The only person in every battle whose death is solely my responsibility.
The Alpha of the pack.
He is tearing one of my soldiers apart with his teeth and licking his blood off his nuzzle before moving unto the next one, but I don’t wait for him to touch another one of my soldiers before making my way towards him.
I am merely a few inches away from him when one of his warriors block my path, sharp and pointed teeth bared with spittle dripping off his abnormally shaped jaw. I am repelled by the mere sight of him, and even move a few inches back when he moves for me. But the moment I look behind him and see his Alpha moving for another one of my guards, I am standing on my hind legs and pouncing on him, my teeth taking a clean stab at his neck and crushing his bones. I chew off the mass of flesh I bit through, throwing it over his dead body on the floor.
I step over him and continue for his Alpha, who by now has caught sight of me and is making his way towards me too. I must say, he does look scary. The perfect description of what a wolf made and stricken with magic should look like.
He snarls at me, lowering himself as though preparing for a jump. But I know better than to fall for it, which is why, when he charges for me from his position on the ground, I am quick to slam my paw on the top of his head, pressing it against the hard ground.
He writhes, trying to get out of my hold, but I don’t budge. I hear a series of words fall from his lips, but I fail to comprehend them until I listen closely. I pick up an accent that I have never heard before that makes my brows pull together.
“… just like your father. Taking on battles you can and would never win.” He growls, a bitter laugh falling from his lips immediately after. A rumble spreads through my chest, and the rage that fills my body is one that I never knew I was capable of.
“What right does a lowly magician like you have to speak of the Grand Black Wolf? Not a single filthy remark about my father from you again. I’m snapping your neck anyway.” And I move to do just that, but frown when my hands feel heavy all of a sudden.
I hear groans from around me and notice that it is the same thing with all of my guards. My own hands are slowly being pulled away from his head with a force so strong that it makes me grunt. I look down to find him smiling. This is his doing.
He is controlling us with magic.