Chapter 7 – The Wolf and the Hawk
The scouts came at dawn—silent, efficient, and armed with steel laced in cursed runes. They moved like shadows across the cliffside, confident in their superiority. They didn't expect Jean to see them coming.
She'd grown up beside wolves. They'd taught her to smell blood before it spilled.
Whitney lunged first, silent as snow. One scout went down with his throat torn before he could scream. The others broke formation, flanking quickly.
But Jean was faster.
Her aura flared, silver and white, a bright star against the morning frost.
Three strikes. Two steps. One breath.
Steel danced, and the second scout fell, his sword shattered, chest burning from a clean slash laced with divine light.
The last one raised a flare, too slow.
Jean's blade pierced the air and split the flare stick in his hand before it could ignite.
He dropped to his knees.
"Don't kill me!" he gasped. "I was only scouting!"
Jean's sword hovered near his throat.
"Darien sent you," she said coldly.
The scout swallowed. "H-he wanted to confirm your survival. He said if you made it through the envoy trials alive… he'd have to act quickly."
Jean narrowed her eyes. "Where is he now?"
The scout hesitated—then screamed as Whitney stepped closer, eyes glowing.
"Answer." the dire wolf growled.
"Crimson Hollow!" the scout blurted. "He's taken the old fortress! Preparing troops to strike the southern border!"
Jean stepped back. "Run. Tell Darien I'm coming."
The scout fled, limping.
Cael emerged from the trees, eyes wide. "You let him live?"
Jean sheathed her blade. "A wolf doesn't kill prey that runs. But he won't sleep tonight."
Whitney padded to her side. "You intend to face Darien now?"
Jean looked to the south.
"No. Not yet. I need more strength."
She turned to Cael.
"We're going to Argon first. If I'm going to stop my brother… we need fire the gods themselves will fear."
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