The sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the Northern Wasteland into a suffocating darkness.
On the ramparts of Fort Blackiron, the wind howled like a banshee. Twelve guards stood frozen in position, their knuckles white as they gripped their rusted spears.
They were terrified.
"They are coming," Garrick whispered, his eyes scanning the endless white void. "I can smell them."
Rian stood behind them, wrapped in his wolf-skin coat. He wasn't looking at the horizon. He was looking at the ground directly in front of the broken main gate.
For the last three hours, he had made the serfs pour bucket after bucket of water down the gentle slope leading to the entrance. In the -40°C air, the water didn't just freeze; it flash-frozen into a sheet of black ice, smooth as a mirror and hard as diamond.
"Steady," Rian commanded. His voice was calm, cutting through the guards' panic. "Remember the plan. No one swings a sword. No one steps off the wall."
Awoooo!
A bone-chilling howl tore through the night.
Out of the darkness, six pairs of glowing red eyes emerged.
Snow Wolves. They were massive—the size of ponies—with white fur that made them nearly invisible against the snow. Their teeth were long enough to puncture leather armor like paper.
"Six of them..." a young guard whimpered. "We are dead."
The Alpha Wolf snarled, sensing the fear. It didn't wait. With a powerful leap, it led the charge, the other five following in a V-formation. They aimed straight for the gate—the castle's weakest point.
They moved with terrifying speed, covering a hundred meters in seconds.
"Hold..." Rian said, raising his hand.
The guards were shaking. The beasts were twenty meters away. Ten meters.
"NOW!" Rian yelled. "Lighting!"
Two serfs standing on the wall threw lit torches down onto the sides of the path.
The sudden fire illuminated the trap.
The Alpha Wolf hit the slope. Its claws, designed to grip snow and soil, scratched uselessly against the sheet of solid ice.
Skreee!
The massive beast lost its footing instantly. The momentum that made it dangerous now became its enemy. It slid uncontrollably, legs splaying out, crashing into the wolf behind it.
The pack dissolved into chaos. They scrambled, claws scratching frantically against the ice, but they couldn't stand. They were like hockey players without skates.
"Spears!" Rian ordered. "Thrust! Do not throw!"
The guards, seeing the terrifying monsters reduced to sliding clowns, suddenly found their courage. They leaned over the low wall and thrust their long spears downward.
Thud. Squish.
Because the wolves couldn't dodge or retreat on the slippery ice, they were sitting ducks.
The Alpha Wolf roared, trying to claw its way up, but Garrick drove his spear straight into its neck. The rusted iron tip didn't break—because he didn't swing it. He used the wolf's own weight against it.
One by one, the wolves were silenced. The ice was stained red.
It was over in two minutes.
The guards stood panting, staring at the corpses. They checked their bodies. No scratches. No bites. No one had died.
For the first time in the history of Fort Blackiron, they had wiped out a wolf pack without a single injury.
Garrick turned to Rian, his eyes wide with disbelief. "We... we won? Just like that?"
Rian didn't celebrate. He was calculating.
"Physics, Garrick," Rian said, pointing to the ice. "Friction is a warrior's best friend."
He looked at the dead wolves.
"Drag them in. The fur will make coats for Kael's clay team. The meat will feed the miners."
Rian turned to leave, his face indifferent, but inside, his heart was pounding. He had survived.
[Ding! Threat Neutralized.]
[Kingdom Morale Increased: +10]
[Resource Gained: Snow Wolf Fur (x6), Wolf Meat (300 lbs).]
As he walked back to the warm keep, Rian looked at his trembling hands.
"Today, ice saved us," he whispered to the freezing wind. "But tomorrow... I need steel."
End of Chapter 6