The dire wolves held them in a ring of teeth and fur, twenty bodies breathing steam into the cold air.
Joji forced himself to think past the snarls until a plan clicked into place.
"Alaric. Follow my movements. I'll make an opening."
"I'll back you up. Go," Alaric replied.
Wind seized Joji at once. Lightness of the Wind and Emerald Blade Wind flooded his limbs at full force, and he vanished into the wolves' encirclement so quickly that only an afterimage seemed left behind.
He planted his feet, bent his knees, and drove both palms forward. Protectorate Barrier Wind burst out in a green wall and slammed into the pack, shoving wolves sideways in a spray of mud and torn weeds.
The beasts stumbled, paws scrabbling for purchase.
Alaric did not waste the chance.
Three arrows sang out in a single breath and buried themselves in fur and bone.
Three wolves dropped almost together, one managing a single yelp before silence took it.
Joji dashed into the next cluster of four, shoulder lowered, using the barrier's force to leave them dazed for a heartbeat.
Alaric had already drawn. This time he loosed four arrows in quick succession.
Four more wolves folded into the dirt, rolling once before going still.
The ring broke. Fear cut through the rank smell of wet fur, and the wolves began to spread out, wary now of prey that had suddenly turned predator.
Only the pack leader remained steady. It did not rush them. It watched. Measured. Thought.
Alaric scowled at the beast's cold composure and loosed three arrows in quick succession.
The wolf slipped aside with eerie calm, and the shafts cut only through fur. That was no wild instinct. That was battle sense.
"I'll try to catch it," Joji said.
Joji burst around the pack leader with Lightness of the Wind and Emerald Blade Wind used in reckless bursts, brushing it with one touch and striking hard with the next, needling the beast until even it seemed uncertain of his intent.
Alaric drew a slow breath and chalked his fingers. Then he gathered Lightness of the Wind and Emerald Blade Wind together, and within the span of a single inhale and exhale, ten arrows flew.
Everhart Rapid Fire Combat.
Green edges hissed around the shafts as they screamed through the dark. The pack leader realized the danger a fraction too late.
It weaved with astonishing speed, twisting aside from the volley, yet five arrows still found flesh.
Blood darkened its flank. The beast gave a low growl, then bolted into the scrub and vanished into the deeper forest.
Joji did not chase. He looked instead at the other wolves pulling back and knew better than to treat them as easy prey.
His aura might be deep, but it did not refill the way it did in games. What he had spent would need real rest to recover.
"We move. Now," Joji ordered.
Walter remained hidden beneath his ghillie suit and watched the last wolf retreat.
His fingers would not stop trembling. He clapped both hands over his mouth to keep any scream from slipping out.
He hated this helplessness. Deep in his heart, the hope of becoming a knight had never truly died.
Yet what he had just seen left him cold. If his guards had faced monsters like these alone on the road, there would have been screams.
There would have been bodies, and among them his own, stiff in the dirt, eyes wide open while flies crawled over him.
Joji looked back and crooked two fingers at him.
"Come on, Walter. We have to hurry," Joji said.
There was no ridicule in it, no sneer at the burden he carried. Walter knew he would keep that small kindness in his heart for a very long time.
They moved on, boots scuffing over roots and frozen leaves. Walter clung to Joji's neck as the main path slipped away behind them.
Joji led them deeper into the trees, where the branches knitted overhead and the moonlight thinned to pale scraps.
Somewhere off to the right, Walter could hear the creek sliding over stone. Every sound made his skin tighten. Every shadow looked like the shape of another ambush.
Then the ground began to rise. Not a true hill, only a swelling of earth that promised a better view.
"Up there," Joji said. "We'll check where we are."
"Agreed," Alaric said.
Alaric knew they were taking the long way around. If they had simply poured aura into their legs and kept to the main road, they could have reached Lacrosse by afternoon, even if the trip normally took a full day by horse, provided they pushed themselves without reserve.
Still, he did not complain. He knew Joji was the sort of man who always had a plan, and if some gain came of this, then the trouble would be worth it.
As that thought drifted through Alaric's mind, they reached the top and the wind found them. Below, in the dark folds of the forest, small orange lights winked between the trees.
Campfires. Not one, but several, their flames dim and cautious in the dark.
"Those could be monster settlements," Alaric said, pointing toward the distant fires with a furrowed brow.
"We check it out," Joji said at once.
"Too dangerous. We still have Mister Walter with us," Alaric hissed.
Walter flinched at hearing his name spoken like a burden. He already knew it well enough.
Still, his mind would not stop searching for some way to matter. He cleared his throat. The sound came out small, but both men turned to him.
Walter forced himself not to look away.
"Sirs," he said, his voice cracking once before it steadied. "I have a proposition. If those scoundrels are hunting us, then they already know your faces. The best thing we can do is wear new ones. A disguise."
Joji's eyes narrowed. Alaric said nothing. Both listened.
"I can make costumes," he said. "I sew."
Heat crept up his neck. He hated that he was blushing at a moment like this, but he could not help it.
"Not ordinary clothes. Entertaining ones."
"Entertaining?" Alaric asked.
"For festivals and... hehe... for prank purposes. I once hid in my father's study dressed as a beast and leapt out at him. I still remember his face."
Joji barked out a laugh, sudden and loud in the cold night.
"I can imagine it," Joji said, still grinning.
Then Joji's gaze slid over Alaric's outfit, the fishnet, the chest cut scandalously open, the frilly lace along the edges. A wicked grin tugged at his mouth.
"Finally. Those eyesore-ass clothes won't trouble thy eyes no more," he said, doing his best to sound poetic.
Alaric's ears turned red at once. He stomped a foot and pointed at Joji's nose.
"These clothes feel good on the skin. I dress for comfort. Is that so wrong?"
Walter smiled despite himself, though the feeling in his heart was still a cheated one.
To think that this slim beauty had turned out to be a man. He raised two fingers, ready to speak, and Joji caught it at once, letting the joke die.
"So. What do you need?" Joji asked.
Walter forced his thoughts away from that bitter confusion and back toward craft.
"We cannot use wolf hide. If those beasts were tamed, their leader may still track the scent. We need hard leather that can take shape quickly. Ogre skin. Crocodile skin. Anything like that."
"And where do we find that quickly?" Alaric asked, squinting toward the distant fires once more.
Joji pointed through the trees to where the water widened.
"That broad stretch of river over there. We try our luck," Joji said, a note of excitement creeping into his voice.