The Legendary Mage (Alavin)
Chapter 84

"What does this mean? What are they planning?" One girl inquired, her hands tightening on her longbow, its arrow a magic-infused firebolt, burning brightly.

A fellow Protégé gritted his teeth and replied, "How should I know? If it comes to it, we'll fight. Are we of Cobalt Strike to fear these beasts?"

"Wolf teeth and claws are valuable; if it comes to a fight, I'm not afraid..." Gus was cut off as the alpha wolf let out a piercing howl, and the hundreds-strong pack surged forward like arrows from a bow, swarming towards them.

"Fight!" The fifteen Protégés' faces changed with dread, shouting as they charged into the fray.

A ferocious battle unfolded in the forest. The fifteen Protégés, all elites, strong and well-coordinated, showed no sign of retreat as they plunged into the heart of the wolf pack.

Though the wolves were individually weaker, they had the advantage in numbers and savage wildness, relentlessly attacking.

Energy surged, Combat Magic was unleashed, and the scene quickly devolved into chaos. Blood splattered, roars filled the air, and the stench of blood stirred the wolves into an even more ferocious assault. Their band of hunters had competed in three Grand Hunts before, amassing a wealth of experience. Gritting their teeth in the face of adversity, they were confident they could fend off the wolf pack. However, the tide of battle swiftly turned against them.

"Ah! Save me!" cried out one of the apprentices as a massive alpha wolf pounced on him. More giant wolves joined the assault, and his screams of terror soon turned to agonizing cries before abruptly silencing.

"Fuck! Get away from him!" another man shouted, conjuring a mighty tidal wave in an attempt to rescue his comrade. His focus was solely on the threat ahead, so he was blindsided as Tempest Wolves emerged from the flanks, their howls echoing like a raging storm, and their thick, sharp claws descending upon him.

The number of wolves was overwhelming, their ferocity and wildness creating a chaotic scene. The hunters could no longer hold their ground, and within moments, five had fallen in battle. Alavin stood atop a hill, watching the unfolding carnage with a cold detachment.

"Retreat! Retreat!"

"Gather and withdraw!"

"Regroup on me, we'll fight our way out!"

The leader frantically called for the others to assemble. But the wolves were relentless, not willing to let their prey escape. The savage display was a sight to behold.

The chase and skirmish lasted a full hour, with the battle raging over more than ten miles of mountainous terrain. Nearby bands of hunters were drawn to the commotion, but upon witnessing the frenzied scene, they quickly kept their distance, unwilling to court trouble.

In the end, only five of the fifteen Protégées survived, barely managing to escape the wolves' pursuit. Battered and bruised, they were the lucky ones to survive the ordeal. Gasping for breath, hearts pounding as if ready to burst from their chests, they took stock of their situation.

"How many of us are left?" One guy, his face smeared with blood, spoke with a trembling voice.

"Just five... only five remain," another person replied, slumped against an ancient tree, staring up at the dense canopy where sparse moonlight filtered through, illuminating his frightened face.

"Ten dead?" A girl struggled to accept the reality. What started as a merry hunt had turned them into prey, and ten of their brethren had perished. How would they report back? How could they even think of participating in the next Great Hunt?

"We need to find a safe place to hide," suggested Gus, leaning against the tree, gasping weakly. Healing their wounds was the priority.

"What about Alavin?" the female apprentice looked up.

"Leave him. Let the other bands deal with him..." Gus started to rise when his expression suddenly changed.

"What's wrong?" The others immediately tensed, fearing the wolves had caught up.

Gus sniffed the air intensively, his expression shifting. He smelled a familiar scent, very familiar.

"What is it?"

"Alavin."

"What?"

"It seems Alavin is nearby."

"But he was on the..." The girl's mouth opened, but no sound came out.

From the dim woodland ahead, a tall, slender youth slowly emerged, a gleaming longsword in hand.

"Alavin?!" They looked sickened. How could he be here? Had he followed them all along?

Alavin stopped a short distance away, his face devoid of emotion, his presence growing ever colder.

"We weren't looking for you, yet you've come to us," the girl tightened her grip on her iron whip, her voice lacking confidence.

Alavin lingered for a moment before advancing towards them, his gaze icy.

"What do you want? I warn you, don't do anything foolish."

"Alavin, please leave. We have no beef with you, and it's best you don't take advantage of this situation."

"We're all fellow Protégés; there's no need for bad blood."

"Just go. I won't ask again."

"What are you doing? Stop, stop!"

The five cried out in alarm, scrambling back in panic.

But Alavin's pace quickened, his sword radiating a chilling energy as he struck without mercy, aiming for Gus. "Ah..."

A scream echoed through the ancient forest, startling the birds of dawn and shattering the stillness of the woods.

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