Ambush Winter Wolf

Three days have passed since the last failed goblin raid, and with Phinia's help, William has turned the village entrance into a fortress of ice and snow. As a descendant of the Frost Giants, Phinia possesses the minor ability to manipulate ice; in this extreme weather, her power has drastically accelerated the construction of their fortifications.

In the distance, the forest echoes with the mournful cries of unknown monsters fighting over carrion. The corpses William and his group discarded have become the most coveted resource for the local beasts. Countless skirmishes have broken out at the dumping site over the past few days, with the losers of each fight being killed and consumed by the victors. Thanks to those carcasses, almost all the monsters have been occupied fighting over the bait, leaving the three siblings and the giantess to enjoy several days of relative peace.

But by the fourth day, the situation took a turn for the worse.

Although the heavy snow has masked most of the bloodstains left by the village battles, the scent still attracts the gaze of many fierce predators. These uninvited guests were originally drawn by the corpses in the forest, but the number of monsters far outweighs the supply of meat. Powerful, intelligent beasts have begun to carve out territories, and the snow-locked Gnome Village has become a prime piece of real estate in the eyes of some (which can only be blamed on someone's excessive instinct for hoarding food).

Several uninvited guests have begun prowling near the village, including a giant white wolf, a massive brown bear, and two unknown exotic beasts. The white wolf, in particular, has attempted to sneak into the village several times, only to be discovered and thwarted by William and Phinia.

According to Phinia, this white wolf is a notorious beast of the North: a Winter Wolf. These are dangerous predatory animals that thrive in frozen tundras and other frigid regions. Winter Wolves are extremely cunning and intelligent, capable of speaking Common and Giant. They often coordinate with other evil creatures, serving as excellent scouts, hunters, and trackers, possessing massive frames and a terrifying cold breath attack. They are known to relentlessly pursue their prey until it is slaughtered, never ceasing the hunt.

To guard against these malicious creatures, William and Phinia have had to take turns keeping watch at night, exhausted by the constant vigilance. William has tried several times to lure the beast into a trap, but without success.

William sits on the perimeter wall, watching the Winter Wolf prowling nearby with a bored expression. The creature stands nearly five feet at the shoulder and is about nine feet long, its shimmering, silver-white fur thick and soft—a true jewel of the fur trade. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't believe such a cunning animal could exist.

The Winter Wolf initially pretended to be an ordinary white wolf, intentionally stepping into a snare. When William approached to inspect it, the wolf suddenly broke free and launched an attack. When William dodged and prepared to counter, the wolf retreated, having sensed that Phinia was no ordinary being—a descendant of the Frost Giants, and a juvenile one at that. This realization triggered uneasy associations for the wolf, prompting it to rethink its hunting strategy.

The Winter Wolf immediately turned and left.

Winter Wolves often serve as minions to Frost Giants and are well aware of the race's power. Upon seeing Phinia, it feared that a conflict with a juvenile might draw the attention of adult Frost Giants—the undisputed overlords of the northern ice plains, who are notoriously protective of their young. The wolf decided to scout the situation further before deciding whether to abandon its prey. Such agile wit and decisiveness are rare, even among humans.

Yet, for all its cunning, the Winter Wolf failed to realize that William was actually the strongest combatant present.

In the days that followed, William's attempts to lure the wolf failed, both because Phinia was present and because the wolf had yet to gauge her true strength.

Today, William arranged for Phinia to stay in the cellar to chat with Mishaer. These two, despite the vast difference in their sizes, have surprisingly hit it off. Since the last battle, the little girl hasn't left the cellar, and she was starting to feel stifled.

The Winter Wolf lies behind a large tree a few hundred meters outside the village, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the human male atop the wall. Every so often, it glances around, its beautiful, fluffy, snow-white tail sweeping back and forth with a leisurely rhythm.

For a long time, the cautious Winter Wolf's eyes flashed with confusion. It couldn't fathom why this weak human would be so bold as to stay outside alone. Did he think that small wall could stop the footsteps of the mighty Bolfin? And where was that tradition-defying giant cub hiding?

Indeed, the Winter Wolf Bolfin had already learned of Phinia's background, allowing it to proceed with its hunt with confidence. However, cunning as it was, the wolf still enjoyed playing little games.

Seeing nothing unusual about William, Bolfin began to approach the village, moving with calculated stealth. It trotted forward, stopping at a distance of about a hundred yards from the wall. Its ice-blue eyes were half-closed to mask the malice within; there were too many sensitive creatures in the wilderness that could read danger in a gaze.

The Winter Wolf pretended to be carefree, rolling in the snow and moving with soft, relaxed limbs. Its fluffy tail swished, kicking up snowflakes as if it were nothing more than a beautiful, playful dog frolicking in the snow.

William watched the performance with a look of feigned intoxication, seemingly unaware that with every movement, the distance between him and the beast was closing.

He squinted, smiling at the cunning, beautiful creature, a hidden glint of sharpness flashing in his eyes: What a treacherous beast! It even knows how to play the game of deception. Does it really think I can't see it deliberately clearing its own tracks? No matter how cunning you are, you'll still be drinking my dishwater.

The Winter Wolf had been constantly closing the distance; its playful performance was merely a cover to hide the change in its tracks, as that was the only thing that could immediately reveal its true intentions.

Because the snowy landscape was a vast, featureless white, it was easy for a careless person to overlook such a slow change in distance—perhaps only realizing it when it was already too late.

However, William had long ago placed many hidden markers in the snow outside the gate: a solitary piece of deadwood, a raised stone nest—all excellent reference points.

Though the Winter Wolf moved with grace, its muscles were coiled tight, ready to explode with speed at a moment's notice, whether to attack or to flee.

Unfortunately, this state of outward relaxation and inward tension, while capable of fooling others, could not escape the eyes of William, a master of martial arts, for he was in the exact same state of readiness.

As the saying goes, the tiger has the intent to harm, but the man also has the heart to trap the tiger.

The Winter Wolf was calculating against him, and William was doing the same to the wolf. The only difference was that he understood the nature of the Winter Wolf, while the wolf did not understand this man.

Both man and beast, harboring their own secret agendas, grew increasingly cautious as the distance closed, terrified that a single slip would scare the other away. These two hypocrites were such masters of acting that they would put any award-winning actor to shame; their performance was truly earth-shattering.

When the Winter Wolf was less than fifty meters away, it suddenly stood still and spoke in standard, fluent Common—more articulate than the human himself. The Winter Wolf's voice was deep and raspy:

"Human! The mighty Bolfin has a question for you. Where is that cursed Frost Giant child?" The wolf did not know Phinia was a half-giant; it had assumed she was a juvenile Frost Giant.

William stood up, feigning "shock," his face full of "horror" as he looked at the talking wolf, trembling as he shrieked, "Y-you can actually talk!"

Although Phinia had told him the wolf could speak, William hadn't taken it seriously. The giantess had mentioned it as casually as one might comment on a neighbor's pet, leading him to believe it was merely mimicry, like a parrot.

But looking at the Winter Wolf before him, it was clearly an intelligent creature with independent thought, capable of communicating just like a human.

Thus, William's surprise was not entirely faked.

A look of human-like disdain crossed the silver-white wolf's face. It took a few more steps forward, unperturbed, and said, "Ignorant human! How could your pathetic intellect comprehend the greatness of the King of the Snow Plains!"

The Winter Wolf continued to press forward, as if to exert pressure, asking in a threatening tone, "Tell me! Why is a Frost Giant with a cowardly human?"

Just then, Alos, who had finished feeding the herd in the stable, walked over. Hearing someone speaking outside the wall, he asked his brother in surprise, "William! Who is talking to you out there?"

William was startled by Alos's voice from behind and turned, shouting urgently, "Alos! Run!"

The moment he turned, the Winter Wolf, now within thirty meters of the wall, saw its chance. It exploded from a standstill, leaping and accelerating. The power in its limbs was evident from the cloud of snow it kicked up.

The Winter Wolf transformed into a white blur, charging toward William like lightning. It cleared the several-meter-high wall in a single bound, its jaws wide, revealing jagged fangs as it lunged for William's throat.

William's reaction was not slow. Feeling his spine tingle, he shuddered. Though it was too late to turn back, he twisted his body to narrowly avoid the bite. He dared not dodge completely, for Alos was right below; if the wolf breached the village, the boy would surely die.

William stepped forward, moving in close to the wolf, using his shoulder to strike the beast's neck, forcing the airborne creature to lose its balance. Before the wolf could land or regain its center of gravity, William's right fist shot upward, slamming into its jaw, followed by a series of heavy elbow strikes to its chest and abdomen. The wolf's head reeled, half its fangs shattering instantly, its tongue reduced to a pulp—a testament to the weight of William's fists.

Not only was its jaw shattered, but the chest and abdomen struck by William's elbows emitted a series of sickening "cracks" as the ribcage was pulverized. The sheer force of the blow turned the wolf's forward momentum into a backward flight.

William did not relax. He reached out, grabbed both of the wolf's front paws, and leaped into the air, driving a knee—a move similar to a Muay Thai flying knee, but far more lethal—into the beast's stomach. He then rode the wolf's body down from the five-meter-high wall, landing hard on the frozen ground in front of the gate, pinning the creature beneath him.

The Winter Wolf's internal organs were crushed into paste by William's weight. The poor creature let out a low, muffled groan, its beautiful ice-blue eyes bulging like lightbulbs, filled with deep fear and resentment. Dark, clotted blood and gore flowed from its mouth and nose. It was dead.

William sat silently on the wolf's carcass. Only after the battle ended did he realize his own injuries were severe: multiple fractures in his hands, arms, and legs, with deep lacerations on his knuckles, elbows, and knees where he had struck the beast.

Worst of all, in the short, lightning-fast span of the kill, William had exhausted all his stamina in an extraordinary burst of power. His muscles were torn to varying degrees, and he was now completely drained of combat strength. If another beast were to appear, his life would likely end here in the snow.

William managed to lift his head, offering a bitter smile to little Alos, who was watching in terror from the wall:

"Alos! Go get Phinia!"

Little Alos was shocked to the point of speechlessness, an involuntary "gurgle" escaping his throat: "William! You... you... how could you!" He had witnessed the entire process of his brother fighting the Winter Wolf with his bare hands, knocking the terrifying beast—which ranked in the top three of Northern legends—flying, pinning it down, and killing it with just a few punches and kicks.

Good heavens! That was a Winter Wolf! To think it had been killed by William with his bare hands; he couldn't believe his eyes. Was his own silly brother really that strong? This world had truly gone mad.

Little Alos stumbled down from the perimeter wall, rushing into the cellar with wild, flailing gestures, tripping several times along the way without even noticing. He burst into the cellar, gasping for air and too excited to speak, waving his hands as he repeated: "Wil... liam! He... he... brother..."

Phinia didn't wait for an explanation; she grabbed her giant axe and bolted outside. Mishaer, too, forgot her fear of going out; barefoot and without even grabbing her fur cloak, she anxiously followed. Alos, terrified, hurriedly dragged her back, picked up her little boots, and shoved them toward her, shouting: "Boots! Boots! Put your boots on first! It's cold outside!"

Mishaer was so anxious she hopped up and down, flailing like an enraged little wildcat: "William?! I want to go out! Let me go, Alos! I want to see William!"

Alos hurriedly reassured her: "William is fine! He killed a powerful monster!"

It took every ounce of effort for little Alos to get the uncooperative girl into her boots, and the moment they were on, she darted out. Sweating and flustered, Alos could only grab her warm fur cloak and chase after her.

When the two little ones ran outside, they saw William being carried rudely by Phinia through the opening in the gate; the silly girl seemingly had no concept of gentleness.

Phinia dumped the man down with heavy, clumsy hands and dashed back out in a flurry. Soon, she returned, happily dragging the carcass of the Winter Wolf behind her.

The little girl rushed into William's arms, tears and snot streaming down her face. William, aching all over, was too weak to resist and could only slump to the ground, holding the shivering little girl—whether from the cold or her tears—until Alos brought over the fur cloak to wrap her up.

"William—! Sniffle—"

"Mishaer, look at the white wolf brother caught for you. Isn't it soft? Go on, touch it." William leaned against the Winter Wolf's carcass, the little girl huddled beside him. She was initially fearful of the massive creature that had just died, but after stroking the Winter Wolf's soft fur a few times, her fear vanished.

Mishaer's face was covered in tears and snot, crying and laughing at the same time as she rubbed against her brother's chest, making William burst into a hearty laugh.

The death of the Winter Wolf caused the other three lurkers in the forest to temporarily retreat, giving William some rare time to recover. In the end, there was a significant gap between his explosive power and his physical durability; William still had a long way to go before he could fully unleash his true strength.

Although the battle for the carcass in the forest was drawing to a close, William's family didn't need to worry about their safety for the time being, as no blind monster would dare provoke the "dragon's den and tiger's lair" that was the Gnome Village.

Frost Giants were highly skilled at processing Winter Wolf hides, much like the dragon-slaying techniques passed down through generations—skills one might never use in a lifetime, yet were mandatory to learn. Phinia, as a half-giant, was no exception.

After Phinia processed the Winter Wolf hide using the unique methods of the Frost Giants, she hung it in a ventilated area to air-dry. The silver-white fur was so captivating that one couldn't help but want to touch it again and again, making William worry that the beautiful pelt might end up bald from all the handling.

Winter Wolf meat was not suitable for consumption, so it had to be discarded and buried. For one, the fat was too greasy and had a pungent, fishy odor; unless one were starving to death, even most wild beasts wouldn't touch a Winter Wolf carcass, save for certain indiscriminate monsters on the ice plains. The second reason was that, for William, eating a sentient, speaking creature created a psychological barrier that he found quite repulsive.

He gazed at the mesmerizingly beautiful fur, thinking: That's a fine piece of material. Once I've recovered, I'll have to go get a couple more. He looked back at his boisterous family; little Alos was enthusiastically demonstrating to Mishaer how his brother had killed the terrifying Winter Wolf, while their extra audience member, Phinia, listened with a look of pure fascination.