CHPT 274: Welcome to the Silver Rank...

Back in the forest surrounded by a desert that reeked of malicious mystery....

***

The pack of Wolven beasts had endured another battle against a new threat. A threat with a deadly and trained level of intelligence, emotion and understanding.

Intelligence to know how to fight effectively and plan through complex speech. Emotion that spewed from their sweaty pores, reeking of burning rage, pungent sorrow, and sweet excitement. The Wolven family could smell it all. They also understood. They had an understanding on par with the beings that currently opposed their existence. The beings that actively recognized the pain that coursed through their hearts when one of the Wolves ripped out one of their throats.

Or the fear that crept into every fiber of their existence as the Wolven family slowly spread to more than just Wolves and became a battle of them....versus the wild.

***

The fight of Wolven beasts versus the primal Centaur clan had slowed considerably since it's inception.

The soil of the forest was soaked with blood. Blood that leaked from the standing spikes of wood that pierced through the heads and midsections of long-dead Centaurs. Impaled. There were impaled Monsters everywhere stuck up on crimson soaked wooden spikes that erupted from the earth with a wild twist. They still grew with the infection of Wild Magic, twisting and blooming into the beginnings of trees, all while carrying the Centaurs along with their ascent like bloody ornaments.

Catching them in the attack wasn't easy. Fighting Centaur's wasn't easy in general. Their battle was one on foot and in stride. They fought mid-run, using the mobility and stamina of their lower equine bodies in conjunction with their bulky humanoid upper-half, hauling spears and arrows all through the forest or cleaving through tree branches with axes as thick as one could be before becoming problematic.

But then again, a fight centered around speed and stamina was right up the packs alley.

They all excelled in a roughened predatory fashion..for the most part at least.

Speed. The Phantom Wolves showed their might as expert hunters of large game within the blood-coated forest. They used their speed and sheer numbers to overwhelm and confuse arrow-wielding Centaur's with ease all while Ashe and Shadow lead hunts, tearing away flesh on the Centaur's ankles and hindquarters until there was nothing left. They made running down Monsters an art.

Might. When the split pack of Phantom Wolves had difficulty running down a Centaur, Frosty decided their patient form of combat wasn't enough and used his overwhelming bulk and physical power to snap the legs of running Centaur's or sideline unsuspecting enemies, reducing their many ribs to crumbles of bone dust.

Unrelenting Ferocity. Moving on Lupine limbs that never tired and a mind hyped up on Lunar and Wild Magic, Claude blasted through the forest in a tidal wave of feral magic that the animals of the forest fed on infinitely, assisting him with their unique traits and numbers in each battle. With every Centaur he defeated, he moved on to the next with a new set of wild gifts. Some fell at the hands of his Element, others had their necks broken or were gutted by spears. Some even died to venomous snake-bites.

His attacks were only made more various with Gil at his side, spitting flaming javelins and running down the enemy beside him with relative ease.

With such an effective pack, the battle should've been an easy win. The Forest and Moon was Claude's weapon, Frosty moved with the strength of the Orcish Tangents he hailed from and the Phantom Wolves were experts in predatory effectiveness. It should've been an easy win.....

It would've been, if they pack hadn't only recently become one contending in the Silver Ranks. Prof. Raizen's words of the Silver Reapings had never made so much sense.

The Centaur's were strong. Stronger than the Silver Ranked Gnoll's that followed the WereWolf, Aeron. Along with their strength, they had speed but they also had intelligence and range.

Every call to violence was met with an equally powerful brand of their own equine power.

Leaving them in their current shared state...

A stalemate.

Amidst the forest full of impaled and shredded Centaur's, Claude stood with the help of the crudely crafted spear at his side. Evening sunlight danced along the silvery blade of the weapon as the cold winds shook the forest and allowed light to enter.

The sounds of combat prevailed, carried closer to his ears by the winds. The Phantom Wolves were finishing off the final few. Frosty and Gil did the same in the distance.

Leaving him alone. Alone and injured.

Slash wounds doused his fur in blood, running across his arms and chest in a criss-crossing design of red. That same gruesome color dripped from his jaws, coating his teeth and the two elongated slimmer canines that dripped with a glowing green venom.

His eyes held a tired intensity that matched the shape of the dark purple snake coiling around his arm and intertwining with the length of his Malevolence Tether, giving the inanimate object a living venomous edge.

For a moment, his tired yet intense eyes stayed that way. Mimicking the snake that hissed with his growls. And then, they switched. Widening from slits into glowing rings that mocked the design of the Griffon and Raven perched on his hulking shoulders.

Behind him, other predators of the wild fed on the Centuars that fought against the wild consumption of Nature.

He could smell the rage and fear that emanated from the Centaur across from him as it listened to its brothers and sisters be consumed by the forest and it's inhabitants.

The first one he'd encountered before the battle. Now the last one he'd see before surviving-- upholding his end of the bargain with Rollan, or dying.

His PitWolf Pelt still covered his head, casting his tan skinned face into deep shadows while the rest of his lightly fur covered body faced the elements. He too was littered with cuts and bruises. He was also missing a hand. Frosty didn't appreciate his barbaric attire. Claude didn't either, resulting in four wooden shortspears protruding from his back, piercing through the pelt to cut into his skin.

Claude let out a pained huff, feeling a network of painful responses washing over his body, and reminding him that he had similar injuries. Five arrows cut into his back, blade deep. An extra one sat deep in his quad. If he took anymore arrow-fire he'd look more like Gil than ever before. Luckily, the throat of every Bow using Centaur lay somewhere in the forest soaked in blood.

For the moment they were completely even. Two injured leaders. Lupine and Equine. Revenge versus Revenge. Primal Centaur Chieftain versus Shape-Shifter Alpha.

He felt like they'd been in a stand-off while madness continued around them forever. Until the Centaur suddenly lifted his remaining hand holding his thick battle-axe and aimed it at him while letting off words in it's respective language.

They fell on Claude's ears smoothly, sounding both foreign and familiar. He was too tired to care.

When the Monster finished speaking, he stood on his favored three legs-- holding up the broken front leg while he waited. Seemingly for Claude's answer. So, he returned the only reply he felt the creature deserved.

"....Fuck you."

When the message didn't fully translate, he raised his left hand and flipped off the Monster, allowing it to see his claws morph into talons that matched the birds of prey perched on his shoulders.

The Centaur snorted angrily and began pacing back and forth. It was ready. The final attack.

Claude let his hand hover over the Lunar Artifact in the pocket of his ripped up pants while he felt the welcoming boost of Wild Magic, ready to empower his arm for a spear throw strong enough to rip through life itself.

His vision shook as he forced his visually boosted eyes to stay on the moving Centaur. A painful thud rocked his skull, his ribs creaked with every heightened breath he took as his adrenaline pumped and more of his blood died the grounds at his feet.

"Come on you bastard...run straight at me...give me an easy shot so I can pin your heart to one of these trees..." He snarled in a slurred tone as the birds on his shoulders screeched and the snake around his arm hissed.

"AIIIGHHHH!!!!" The Centaur let out a throaty neighing roar, rearing up onto it's back two legs like a warrior Stallion before landing with a loud slam and taking off in an uneven and broken gait.

Claude's vision continued to shake, his skull quaked as if two tectonic plates were shifting over his brain. He fought against the pain and raised his spear, clenching it with all the feral power he could muster.

The excess Wild Magic caused the grass around them to grow, the branches of trees spiraled and grew out of control and flowers bloomed everywhere, contrasting with the gory scene as the Centaur stomped through the growing greenery.

Claude took his first steps, slow and painful through shaky vision.

Step....step...step.

He closed in on the creature, he wanted no chance of missing. The Centaur wanted the same. Only a matter of seconds split them.

5...4..3..2...

The Centaur let out a weak roar with its axe held high, Claude released a matching snarl as the birds ascended from his shoulders.

"Ra--!"

Shlck!

Before he could execute his final attack and end it all, his leg gave from the arrow wound, causing the ones in his back to dig deeper as he fell to one knee, held up by his spear in a shaky grip.

Time slowed in his assumed final moments. Allowing him to hear the snarls and barks of Wolves and the urgent call of Centaur's in the distance. They were running, and the Wolves were approaching.

As if on que with his thoughts, Frosty exploded from the bushes to his left. An arrow pierced through the flesh on his shoulder along with a dozen smaller cuts on his bloody jaws and muscled front-legs. The white-tipped fur than ran down his back was mottled with crimson, the same color littered his deep brown fur and contrasted strongly with the furious icy blue glow of his eyes.

In a flash, the PitWolf skidded to a halt between Claude and the Centaur. Not an ounce of fear shown anywhere on him.

Following his entrance, six blurry flashes of shadowy smoke appeared behind him.

The Centaur skidded to a halt as they all snarled in unison, shaking the forest floor madly while Frosty activated his skill, (Intimidation).

Out of nowhere, blue energy danced along the PitWolf's fur before beginning to pulse from the beast in expansive waves like the breaking of a lakes surface tension. Each wave grew with power until it washed over the bulk of the forest and collided with the Centaur.

The Monster stumbled and shook with every crashing wave. It fought against the fear inducing Magic for a while, but Frosty pressed on with the Phantom Wolves at his back until his skill had grown into a tidal wave of magically induced fear.

The final blast rocked the Centaur, forcing his brain and body to succumb to the intimidating power, leaving him shaking and sweating all over before turning tail and taking off in a rush while the Griffon and Raven bombarded him with talon swipes and deafening screeches.

FWOO!

Gil appeared beside Frosty and spit a line of green flame.

SHNK!

"AAARGH!!"

The javelin sunk into the fleeing monster's shoulder, causing its axe to fall as it joined the remaining two fleeing Centaur's.

When the sounds of their hooves finally disappeared from the forest, Claude felt his pains in great detail. It was enough to make him lose consciousness.

In reality, he could've lost consciousness a while ago and he would've right in front of the Centaur if not for the packs sudden entrance.

The thought left him feeling relieved...and that was all it took for him to mutter a few words before falling flat on his face in the forest full of impaled Centaur's and predators of the wild.

"....Thank you all...We'll get them...next time. I'll kill them next time.."