Stone Bridge Town was still burning.
Smoke coiled upward in thick, choking pillars, blotting out the noon sun until the sky dimmed into a sickly gray. The air reeked of ash, blood, and cooked flesh—war's unmistakable signature.
The soldiers rested among the ruins.
They leaned against blackened walls and collapsed beams, chewing on roasted meat, wiping grease and blood together across their sleeves. Their faces told the story—fatigue, exhilaration… and something colder settling in beneath it all.
This victory had changed them.
Not just revenge. Proof.
They were stronger now.
Colin stood alone in the square before the shattered administrative hall, his silver armor stained with a dull crimson sheen from reflected firelight. He did not eat. Did not sit.
He watched.
Every soldier. Every movement.
Like a craftsman inspecting newly forged blades.
And he approved.
Especially the cavalry.
The Wolf Fang riders had changed the most. No longer awkward beasts clinging to saddles, they had learned—how to grip, how to move with the horse, how to hold formation. What they gained from the training manual had fused with real bloodshed.
Now it was instinct.
Now it was theirs.
"Hask. Anna."
Both stepped forward immediately.
"My lord."
Colin pointed north.
"From this moment on, the cavalry leads."
Hask's eyes ignited.
"You will act as the vanguard," Colin continued, voice cold and even. "Speed is your weapon. You move ahead, find targets, and seal them before they understand what is happening."
His gaze sharpened.
"No escape. No warning."
Silence followed.
Then—
"Understood."
Anna's voice was steady, but she understood the deeper meaning. Speed alone wasn't enough.
They had to erase.
Before word could spread.
Before resistance could form.
Only then could a small force carve fear into a vast territory.
Colin continued, already assigning roles with ruthless clarity.
"I will move ahead of the main force with the Wolf Guards. If anything resists… I will handle it."
To them, he was no longer just a commander.
He was a fixed point.
A certainty.
"Boulder. Barton."
The two giants stepped forward.
"You follow behind. One hour distance. You finish what the cavalry begins."
Boulder grinned.
"Like cutting wheat."
"Exactly."
Orders were given. The army moved.
The land trembled beneath iron hooves.
The cavalry spread outward, forming a wide, advancing arc across the plains. No longer clustered, no longer clumsy—they moved in small units, spaced and aware, watching everything.
They were learning.
Becoming hunters.
The wind rushed past their ears. Beneath them, the warhorses surged with power.
For the first time, the werewolves felt it—
Speed.
Freedom.
Control.
Anna's riders were quieter still. Shadows slipping between terrain, bows ready, eyes scanning far ahead.
Behind them, Colin advanced with the Wolf Guards.
The center.
The balance.
Half an hour later—
A sharp whistle cut the air.
A signal arrow.
Anna's eyes narrowed instantly.
"Contact."
Across the distance, Hask saw it too. His grin spread, feral and eager.
"Found you."
The two wings shifted.
Closing.
Five miles ahead lay a small village, tucked behind a low hill. Smoke rose lazily from chimneys. Children played in the dirt. Farmers worked the fields.
Peaceful.
Unaware.
Completely exposed.
"Hask to Anna—left flank. Cut the forest."
"Understood."
They moved.
Not as a charge.
But as a closing trap.
The dogs noticed first.
They rose, barking toward the horizon.
A farmer frowned.
"What's gotten into—"
Then he felt it.
A vibration beneath his feet.
Low. Distant.
Growing.
He looked up.
Dots appeared on the horizon.
Too fast.
Too many.
His breath caught.
"…horses?"
Then—
"Enemy attack—!!"
The village erupted into chaos.
Too late.
Hask struck first.
He came like a storm.
Bonebreaker howled as they burst into the outskirts, and Hask's blade fell without hesitation—splitting a fleeing militiaman and his shield in one blow.
Blood sprayed.
He didn't slow.
"Kill them all!"
The Wolf Fang riders tore along the village edge, cutting down anyone who tried to flee. Hooves crushed. Steel flashed. Screams drowned beneath the violence.
On the opposite side—
Anna's forces sealed the escape.
Silent.
Precise.
A man slipping between houses dropped mid-step, an arrow through his throat. Another raised a shout—cut off by a shaft through the eye.
No panic.
No wasted movement.
Only execution.
Within minutes—
The exits were gone.
The villagers were driven inward.
Gathered.
Compressed into the central clearing.
Dozens of them.
Trembling.
Crying.
Waiting.
The cavalry circled.
Not attacking.
Watching.
Letting fear settle.
Letting it deepen.
Half an hour later—
The infantry arrived.
Heavy footsteps. Measured. Inevitable.
Colin entered last.
He did not rush.
He looked once at the huddled mass of humanity.
Then away.
"Clean it."
No more words.
It ended quickly.
The soldiers moved in.
Steel rose.
Fell.
Screams broke—
Then faded.
Silence returned.
Smoke climbed again into the darkening sky.
Another village gone.
Another mark burned into the land.
Colin stood on the slope beyond the ruins, watching the destruction without expression.
Inside his mind, the numbers rose.
Steady.
Reliable.
Power.
A faint smile touched his lips beneath the visor.
This—
was only the beginning.