The valley did not erupt into cheers this time.
Not immediately.
Because what they had just witnessed—
Was not victory.
It was dominance.
Colin stood over the corpse of the fallen alpha, chest heaving, blood dripping steadily from his torn arm, his claws still slick with the warmth of a heart that no longer beat.
At his feet lay the massive body of the Giant Snow Wolf—the commander, the strategist, the king of this hunting ground.
Dead.
Only then—
Did the world begin to move again.
The remaining wolves broke.
Not in chaos—
But in instinct.
They fled.
Fast.
Silent.
Gone.
A ripple passed through Colin's forces.
Then—
It exploded.
"THE ALPHA IS DEAD!!"
"WE WON!!"
"LONG LIVE THE CHIEF!!"
The sound rolled through the valley like thunder, echoing off the cliffs, mixing with the metallic scent of blood and the fading tremors of battle.
But Colin did not smile.
His gaze followed the fleeing shadows into the forest.
Calculating.
Cold.
He knew something they didn't.
A pack like this—
Didn't just exist.
It had a den.
A structure.
A hierarchy.
Resources.
And now—
It had no leader.
Which meant only one thing.
Opportunity.
"I'm fine."
His voice cut cleanly through the noise.
Low.
Controlled.
Absolute.
The cheers faltered.
Every eye turned back to him.
Then came the order.
Not celebration.
Not rest.
War.
"Everyone assemble."
The tone alone snapped spines straight.
Exhaustion vanished beneath discipline.
"Don't let them get away."
That—
Silenced even the boldest.
Some of the warriors hesitated.
Just for a heartbeat.
Chase…?
After this?
After the bear… the herd… the wolves?
Colin's gaze hardened.
"Follow the blood trail."
No anger.
No shouting.
Just inevitability.
"To their den."
Now—
Understanding spread.
This wasn't revenge.
This was extermination.
Haske wiped the blood from his face, breathing heavily. His earlier frenzy had not faded—it had transformed.
Into something darker.
More focused.
"…You heard him!" he roared again, though his voice was hoarser now, edged with fatigue and awe. "Form up! Move!"
Goff hesitated only slightly before nodding, gripping his weapon tighter despite his injured leg.
The others followed.
Because at this point—
There was no questioning him.
They had seen it.
The way Colin faced the alpha.
The way he adapted.
The way he won.
Not by strength alone.
But by will.
By something sharper than claws.
Above them, the sky darkened further.
The brief window of victory was closing.
Night—
Was coming.
And with it—
Cold.
Predators.
Unknowns.
But Colin had already turned away from the battlefield.
Toward the forest.
Toward the fleeing remnants of the Giant Snow Wolf pack.
His voice came one last time.
"Move."
No hesitation.
No mercy.
Because in this world—
If you stopped after winning—
You died later.
And Colin—
Had no intention of dying.