Deep within Nazas Dungeon, Lyssandra sat up, severing the psychic link that had let her experience every second of Ysabel's ordeal. A smile touched her lips.
"A new way for long-range communication," she mused aloud, the sound echoing in the flesh chamber. "This is neat. But, it's time to find new recruits."
With that said, she rose from her bed and strode out of the mansion, the heavy doors swinging shut behind her. She lifted a hand, and a whistle cut through the air.
From the surrounding and the darker recesses of the dungeon, they came. A tide of black fur and yellow lightning. Thirty Lightning Wolves, their bodies glowing faintly in the dim light, gathered before her, already fully grown into adult.
"You got the intelligence I need?" Lyssandra asked.
From the shadow of the mansion's wall, a figure coalesced. It was One, the lead Shadow Goblin, his form appearing as if from nowhere.
"It has already been done, mistress," he rasped, holding out a crude but detailed map sketched on paper. "We have been able to track down many of them since they scattered into smaller groups. All of their locations are on this map. They are mostly living inside caves."
Lyssandra took the parchment, her eyes scanning. "Very well, your team did good. Take a rest, you deserve it." She waved a dismissive hand, and One melted back into the shadows, gone as quickly as he had appeared.
'I can't go out with a big army,' she thought, her mind already strategizing. 'It's not time to show my fangs to the world yet. But with these wolves… sufficient.' She walked towards her most trusted mount, Sparky.
Her pet Lightning Wolf, once a fearsome wolf, was now panting eagerly, his tongue lolling out. He whined, a high-pitched sound of pathetic excitement.
"Master! Come! Ride me!" he yapped, all sense of his former dignity as an apex predator lost after so many degrading encounters with his master.
'A true disgrace to the lightning wolf,' Lyssandra thought with a smirk. She swung a leg over Sparky's back, settling onto his fur.
The wolf let out a happy yip and set off, his paws thundering against the stone floor, a trail of lightning crackling in his wake as they headed for the dungeon's exit.
Lyssandra's voice echoed in a psychic command, broadcast directly into the minds of her three beta.
'Alright, we're moving out! Divide into three teams just as practiced.' she commanded.
'Me, Bram, and the other beta will lead ten wolves each. My group will be White and take the lead. Bram, you'll command Black. The remaining will form Red. Keep your distance and cover our flank. Now, move!'
In an instant, the pack of thirty lightning wolves split. There was no confusion, no hesitation. It was a fluid, practiced motion, like a single organism splitting into three. They flowed into the jungle, moving like shadows under the thick, rotting canopy. The faint, pulsing light from their bodies was the only thing that gave them away as they sped through the tangled undergrowth.
This maneuver was the direct result of the tests with Rosalinda and Ysabel. The psychic link Lyssandra had established was a breakthrough. A small, modified sliver of her own flesh now resided within each of her chosen leaders, acting as a receiver. With this, she could issue commands and perceive their general location from anywhere within her influence, directing her forces with a speed and precision that was previously impossible.
The high-speed travel of the lightning wolves ate up the distance. After a few hours, Lyssandra pulled Sparky to a halt. They were before a gaping, dark maw in the side of a craggy rock face—a cave. As she dismounted, a figure emerged from the cave entrance.
An ogre. It was a towering, three-meter-high brute of a creature, with pale, leathery skin and a potbelly that strained a crude animal-hide loincloth.
Slung over one shoulder was the rotting carcass of a stag, its body mangled and limp. The sheer size of the stag was nearly as long as the ogre was tall, yet the monster carried it as if it weighed nothing.
'They have a very sensitive nose, almost like my wolves,' Lyssandra thought, her gaze fixed on the scene.
'Based on the report, there are five of them inside. A head-on fight inside a narrow space is a no-go. But I already have a way.' She remained hidden in the thick foliage like a silent observer.
'You go ahead, Bram,' she commanded, her thought pulsing directly into the wolf's mind.
Bram grunted, a guttural sound in his throat. He broke from the treeline, his paws silent on the soft earth, and took up a position before the cave's entrance. He lifted his muzzle to the sky and let out a long howl that echoed through the jungle.
The effect was instantaneous. The ground trembled as five ogres stumbled out of the cave, blinking in the dappled sunlight. Each one was a monument of ugliness and brute force, armed with a massive wooden club.
One of them, the largest of the bunch, clutched a huge, bleached-white spine in its fist instead, the bone looking wickedly sharp and heavy. They turned their dull, piggy eyes toward the source of the noise, their faces twisting into masks of stupid rage.
The chase was on. Bram sprinted through the jungle, weaving between trees and ferns. Behind him, the five ogres thundered in pursuit, their heavy footfalls shaking the very ground. They were slow, ponderous things, and Bram had to deliberately hold himself back, letting them close the gap.
He led them to the precise spot Lyssandra had chosen. The lead ogre, its eyes fixed on the fleeing wolf, didn't see the thick, nearly invisible vine stretched taut across its path at ankle height. Its foot caught, and with a comical yelp, it pitched forward, its immense bulk crashing to the ground.
Simultaneously, a groaning, cracking sound echoed through the clearing. A giant tree, its trunk sawed through earlier, toppled over.
It fell across the path with a ground-shaking CRASH, the foliage and branches creating an impenetrable wall. The four remaining ogres skidded to a halt, staring in confusion at the fallen timber. They began to shamble around, looking for a way to continue.
That was the opening. From two different sides of the clearing, two more lightning wolves darted out. They didn't attack but simply appeared, yipped, and then fled in opposite directions.
The ogres, already addled and angry, split up. Two lumbered after one wolf, and the other two chased the second. They were now all alone, just as Lyssandra had envisioned.
'Divide to conquer,' she thought, a cruel smile playing on her lips. 'Too easy.' She sent her next command. 'Everyone, get into position.'
The remaining wolves, scattered and upwind, held their breath. They had to stay far away to prevent the ogres' noses from detecting their numbers and scaring them off.
But now, with each ogre isolated and chasing its own lone wolf, the time had come.
'Fire at will! Keep your distance! Do not get close to their striking range!' her command rang out, sharp and clear, as her army began the hunt.
From each of the lightning wolves' muzzles, a bright orb of yellow electricity coalesced. With a series of sharp CRACK-SIZZLE sounds, the wolves unleashed their [Thunderbolt Breath].
A relentless volley of lightning erupted from the circle of six wolves surrounding each ogre, converging on the hulking targets in blinding arcs of energy. The bolts impacted the ogres' tough hides with deafening BOOMS, each one searing flesh and leaving blackened, smoking craters. The air filled with the sharp stench of ozone and burnt meat.
One ogre, the one with the bone spine, roared in defiance and tried to charge, but it was met with another volley. The lightning slammed into its chest, throwing it back and making it stagger.
Another ogre swiped its club uselessly, its arm flailing as its body was wracked by convulsions from the repeated shocks.
There was no escape.
They were trapped in a storm of pure electricity, their big bodies jerking and dancing uncontrollably as the barrage continued without mercy.
KZZZT-BOOM! KZZZT-BOOM!
The sound was a relentless, percussive rhythm of destruction. Sparks and arcs of electricity leaped between the ogres and the wolves, a chaotic, deadly light show in the dim jungle.
The ogres bellowed in pain and rage, their roars turning into gurgled screams as their muscles cooked from the inside out. The lightning scorched their skin, turning it from pale to black, then to glowing red-hot.