4.- Wolfs

The sun, already high in the sky, struggled to penetrate the dense tangle of branches and leaves that formed the roof of the Enchanted Forest. The result was a greenish, oppressive twilight, a perpetual dusk that made it difficult to gauge the passage of time. The walk, which had initially been filled with tense anticipation, had become a silent and exhausting march. The air, still and heavy with humidity, smelled of damp earth, moss, the cloying sweetness of unknown flowers, and the sharp scent of pine resin. Every crack of a dry branch underfoot, every whisper of wind through the leaves, made Sebastian jump, expecting the inevitable attack.

"How much further, Roland?" Sebastian asked, breaking the silence. His voice sounded strangely loud in the stillness of the forest.

Roland, who walked ahead, setting the pace with the confidence of a man who knows the terrain, didn't turn. "Not much, lad," he replied. "According to the map, we should be near the Shadow Creek. We can rest there a bit, refill the canteens, and..."

He stopped abruptly. A sound, low and guttural, had reached his ears. A sound that did not belong to the forest.

"What was that?" Sebastian asked, feeling a shiver run down his spine.

Markus, who walked to Sebastian's right, his enormous war hammer resting on his shoulder, answered with his deep, resonant voice: "Wolves. But... they don't sound like normal wolves."

And then, they heard it again. A howl. But it wasn't a single howl, but a cacophony of howls, unsynchronized, discordant, as if several creatures were howling at once, but each at a different pitch. It was a disturbing, unnatural sound that chilled the blood in their veins.

"Prepare yourselves," Roland ordered, drawing his sword. The steel, as it left the scabbard, emitted a metallic shing that seemed to resonate throughout the forest. "These are no ordinary wolves. Stay alert."

Sebastian, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, drew his small hunting knife. It was a ridiculous weapon compared to Roland's sword or Markus's hammer, but it was all he had. I'm not a warrior, he thought desperately. What am I going to do?

The howls grew closer, more intense. And then, they saw them.

They emerged from the undergrowth like living shadows. They were wolves, yes, but wolves like Sebastian had never seen before. They were much larger than normal wolves, almost the size of a pony, with muscular bodies and powerful jaws. Their fur was a dark gray, almost black, that blended with the shadows of the forest.

But the most disturbing thing was their eyes. They didn't have two, but four. A pair of large, yellowish eyes, glowing like embers, that reflected a predatory intelligence. And, just above these, a second pair of eyes, smaller and rounder, of a deep red color, that seemed to vibrate with an unnatural energy.

These were the Four-Eyed Wolves, legendary creatures that, according to the villagers, inhabited the depths of the Enchanted Forest. Creatures that, it was said, possessed a cunning and ferocity that far surpassed those of their common relatives.

"Four-Eyed Wolves!" Roland exclaimed, with a mixture of surprise and concern. "Be very careful! They are faster and stronger than they look. And their bite is poisonous!"

The wolves, at least seven of them, emerged from between the trees, slowly circling them. They didn't attack immediately. They moved in circles, with a feline caution, studying them, looking for the weak point, the easiest prey. It was a hunting tactic, not a blind attack.

Sebastian, feeling panic rising inside him, tried to remember everything he knew about wolves, about plants, about anything that could be useful to him. They attack in packs, he thought. They seek to isolate their prey.

"Stay together!" Roland shouted, breaking the tense silence. "Back to back! Don't give them a chance to flank us!"

But the Four-Eyed Wolves were too cunning. With a coordinated movement, as if they were directed by a single mind, they split into two groups. One, made up of three wolves, headed towards Markus and Roland. The other, made up of four, headed towards Sebastian and Liam.

"Shit!" Liam cursed, drawing his daggers. "They outnumber us!"

Sebastian, feeling his legs trembling, tried to think clearly. I can't fight them, he thought. But maybe I can....

He looked around, searching for something he could use. His eyes fell on a group of plants growing near a fallen log. They were nettles, but not ordinary nettles. They were Shadow Nettles, a rare and dangerous variety that grew in the darkest places of the forest. Their leaves, a dark green, almost black color, were covered with small stinging hairs that, upon contact with the skin, released a toxin that caused intense pain and temporary paralysis.

That's it, Sebastian thought. That might work.

He crouched down, ignoring the threatening growls of the approaching wolves, and began to pull up the nettles, careful not to touch the leaves with his bare hands.

"What are you doing, Sebastian?" Liam asked, frowning. "Now is not the time to be collecting plants!"

"Trust me!" Sebastian replied, continuing to pull up nettles.

Meanwhile, Markus and Roland faced the three wolves that had attacked them. Markus, with his huge hammer, was an unstoppable force. He struck the wolves with a blind fury, making them retreat with each blow. But the wolves were fast and agile, and they dodged most of his attacks.

One of them, with a quick movement, lunged at Markus's legs, trying to knock him down. Markus, with a growl, raised his hammer to crush it.

But then, something hit the wolf in the head.

A stone, thrown with astonishing accuracy.

The wolf, stunned by the blow, retreated, giving Markus the opportunity to counterattack.

Markus, without hesitation, brought his hammer down on the wolf's head, with a brutal blow that left it instantly dead.

"Thanks!" Markus shouted, not knowing who had helped him.

It was Liam, who after the throw, took the opportunity to stab an unsuspecting wolf.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was facing a much more compromised situation; he was surrounded.

With his hands full of nettles, he stood up and faced the four wolves that surrounded him.

"Come on, you fools!" he shouted, with a voice that tried to sound brave, but that actually trembled with fear. "I have a gift for you!"

And, with a quick movement, he threw the nettles at the wolves' faces.

The nettles, upon contact with the wolves' skin and eyes, released their toxin. The wolves, howling in pain and confusion, backed away, rubbing their faces with their paws.

Sebastian, taking advantage of the confusion, ran to a nearby tree and climbed onto a low branch, putting himself out of the reach of the wolves.

"It worked!" he exclaimed, with a mixture of relief and surprise.

But his relief was short-lived. The wolves, although temporarily blinded and stunned, did not give up. They began to jump, trying to reach him, with their jaws open and their fangs exposed.

"Damn it!" Sebastian cursed. "They won't leave me alone!"

Then, one of the wolves, the largest and fiercest of them all, did something unexpected.

Instead of jumping, he sat on the ground, right under Sebastian, and stared at him.

But he didn't look at him with his yellow eyes, but with his red eyes.

And then, Sebastian felt something.

A pressure in his mind. A voice that was not a voice.

Run, the voice told him. Run, or die.

Sebastian, feeling panic overwhelming him, tried to resist. But the voice was too strong, too powerful.

"No... I can't..." he murmured. "I have to... help my friends...".

Your friends will die, the voice replied. And so will you, if you stay.

Sebastian felt his legs weaken. He felt his will breaking.

He was about to jump from the tree and flee, when another voice, this time real, pulled him out of his trance.

"Sebastian! What are you doing?!"

It was Roland. He was a few meters away, fighting two wolves at once, with his sword in one hand and a shield in the other.

Sebastian, hearing Roland's voice, felt the pressure in his mind lessen.

"I... I don't know..." he said, confused. "The wolf... it was talking to me...".

Roland, without stopping fighting, looked at him incredulously. "Talking?" he asked. "What do you mean, 'talking'?"

But before Sebastian could answer, one of the wolves attacking Roland lunged at him, knocking him down.

"Roland!" Sebastian shouted.

The wolf, with its jaws open, prepared to bite Roland's neck.

Sebastian, reacting purely on instinct, took a small smoke bomb, made with sleep-inducing mushrooms and sulfur, out of his bag and threw it at the wolf.

The bomb exploded with a dull poof, releasing a cloud of thick, yellowish smoke.

The wolf, surprised by the explosion, backed away, coughing and sneezing.

Roland, taking advantage of the distraction, jumped up and plunged his sword into its heart.

The wolf fell to the ground, dead.

"Thanks, Sebastian," Roland said, breathing heavily. "Again."

Sebastian, feeling his legs trembling, nodded. "You're... you're welcome," he said.

But the battle was not yet over. There were still several wolves left, and they were furious.

Liam, who had been fighting two wolves at once, received a bite on the arm. He let out a cry of pain and retreated, dropping one of his daggers.

"Liam!" Sebastian shouted.

Markus, who was closer, stepped between Liam and the wolves, protecting him with his body. But, in doing so, he received a deep bite on the leg.

Markus, with a roar of pain and fury, brought his hammer down on the head of the wolf that had bitten him, crushing it.

But the wound was serious. Blood gushed from his leg, soaking his pants and forming a puddle on the ground.

"Markus!" Sebastian shouted, horrified.

Markus, his face pale and sweat covering his forehead, staggered. "I'm... fine..." he said, in a weak voice. "I can... keep going...".

But then, he collapsed.

The battle, already desperate, had become critical.