Chapter 35: Winter Wolf

Lucas lay on the ox cart, severely injured and forced to rest.  

Two of his ribs were broken, and three arrows had pierced his back.  

Besides the external wounds, his internal organs had also been impacted; his chest and abdomen still burned with a fiery pain.  

At one point, he felt he might not survive. If that bottle of healing potion hadn’t worked, or if no one had treated his wounds, his life would have already come to an end.  

But he had somehow made it through. Silently, he gazed at the endless snowfield. As the bumpy ox cart passed through the Klavi mountain path, they were about to arrive at Alvado.  

Alvado was a small town under the border Viscount Colton Quentin’s rule. Lucas had spent some time there during his early years as an adventurer. It wasn’t a bustling place, but it had proper guards and a governor.  

As subjects of the Viscount, once they reached Alvado, they could report the Viking pirate invasion to the governor and receive a certain degree of assistance.  

The Viking pirate incidents were not classified as ordinary robbery in Tania. Although those pirates engaged in plundering, they were more like mercenary groups often seen on border battlefields.  

The powerful pirate groups acted as the Ice King’s vanguard, assaulting cities and strongholds. Besides the wealth they looted, the Viking king also rewarded them based on their military achievements.  

The appearance of the Viking pirates carried political significance; sometimes, it meant war was about to begin.  

As long as the news reached Alvado, it would surely catch the Viscount’s attention.  

The Viscount’s reputation in his territory was decent; he wouldn’t neglect the matter. Once they reached Alvado, they could finally relax and stop being so tense.  

But those Vikings…  

Before Lucas gave up adventuring and returned home last year, he had heard rumors that the new king of Iceland was stirring restlessly.  

He hoped that wasn’t a sign of war…  

Lucas sighed.  

Before war, ordinary professionals like him and common civilians were no different.  

He only wished they could safely reach Alvado without further accidents.  

Maybe the bad luck had passed. He thought of the mysterious figure who saved the village. He had asked around everywhere, but no one could guess who that was.  

The explosion in the reservoir—that was an expensive Fireball Scroll, wasn’t it?  

Who exactly killed so many pirates?  

Was he still alive?  

They had tried to dig open the reservoir, but the explosion had collapsed the entire pool. When one spot was uncovered, another would cave in. The survivors had no strength left to clear the huge reservoir and had to give up.  

Lucas’s thoughts were chaotic. If he could, he wanted to thank that person in person.  

If that hero hadn’t helped, he and the people he knew would have died under the Vikings’ swords.  

That person was their lifesaver.  

If only I had such skills…  

Lucas sighed. At sixteen, he had run off to be an adventurer; now at thirty-three, he was still a nobody.  

He really wasn’t cut out for this path.  

He looked up at the sky as the ox cart and the group slowly moved forward across the snowfield.  

No one noticed the silver figure approaching stealthily from the side.  

As the shadow passed, the lead ewe suddenly flew into the air.  

Lucas’s gaze was drawn to it, his heart tightened, and he instinctively gripped the spear on his right side.  

The winter wolf, covered in silver-white fur, bit through the ewe’s blood vessels. It threw the prey aside and began tearing at it fiercely.  

Its slender muzzle was sharp as a blade, and its fangs shone like ice picks.  

“Damn it! How can there be winter wolves around here!”  

Lucas’s heart sank.  

Winter wolves were territorial creatures. Before winter, they would dig dens in the wild and hibernate together.  

Human activity areas and winter wolf territories were always separate.  

These beasts rarely ventured into human lands on their own; usually, adventurers took on missions to track them down.  

Because their pelts could be used to make cold-resistant cloaks, and mages often bountied winter wolf teeth and bones as spellcasting materials.  

During his seventeen years as an adventurer, Lucas had fought winter wolves numerous times.  

He knew their habits well. Normally, they wouldn’t appear so close to Alvado.  

Had the clouds of misfortune still not dispersed?  

Lucas’s mood grew heavy. He had completed several winter wolf hunting quests before. Back then, other professionals had cooperated with him, and they operated in squad formations with each person performing their role. So dealing with such Iron-rank monsters was not difficult.  

But now, with Lucas still badly wounded and surrounded by villagers who hadn’t even undergone militia training…  

He had to step up. Few young people in the village had ever seen such beasts.  

Lucas struggled to move, getting down from the ox cart despite his injuries.  

Someone nearby supported him—a young man named Avery.  

Avery’s daughter sat on the ox cart with Lucas, along with other children from different families.  

“Uncle Lucas…” Avery seemed a bit flustered.  

“Be careful! There are more winter wolves!” Lucas shouted.  

His voice rose above the crowd’s panic. The authoritative elder began reorganizing the group.  

Those experienced knew winter wolves always acted in packs; lone wolves did not exist among them. When a winter wolf became disabled or old and lost its hunting ability, it would find a quiet place to die alone.  

That meant whenever a healthy winter wolf appeared before you, you must immediately be alert and watch all directions for possible attacks.  

Lucas’s calm and seasoned mindset as an experienced adventurer reminded the villagers.  

Four more winter wolves appeared, charging forward.  

“Don’t face the wolf’s head directly, avoid it!” Lucas continued shouting.  

Winter wolves’ frost breath was their most distinguishing trait from ordinary wolves. They could accumulate magical power to instantly freeze prey. They also used this ability to freeze and preserve their food.  

Lucas took a deep breath, steadying himself, trying to summon the power of his Imbalance Shout to disrupt the winter wolves’ actions.  

But the dizzy haze prevented him from focusing. His head throbbed painfully, and his limbs felt weak and numb.  

Fortunately, the winter wolves’ primary target was the sheep flock. There were five wolves in total; four rushed at the sheep.  

But one wolf locked its gaze on the children in the ox cart and lunged.  

Lucas hesitated for a moment and stepped in front of the cart.  

He saw white frost breath exhaling from the wolf’s mouth—a prelude to its frost breath attack. The correct counter was to dodge to the side and then counterattack.  

But behind him was the ox cart carrying the children. He couldn’t dodge and had to confront it head-on.  

The children curled up together, watching his back. Some started crying, shouting for their mothers.  

His hands trembled; his heart pounded; breathing became difficult, and his head felt like it was about to explode.  

Maybe… he would die…  

But Lucas steadied himself, tightening every muscle like a drawn bow.  

He aimed the spear tip at the winter wolf.  

His mind cleared of all distractions, focusing solely on the wolf before him.  

Before the wolf could pounce, Lucas heard a whimper.  

The charging wolf fell into the snow, blood seeping from its eye. An arrow had pierced through the wolf’s eye, penetrating its head.  

Such precise archery…  

Lucas looked toward the direction the arrow came from.  

A figure clad in black stood in the snow, holding a bow.  

But calling him a knight was a stretch; his armor was too tattered and worn. If he were a guard, he looked far too shabby.  

Lucas thought perhaps, like his former self, this was an adventurer.