Death by Misstep

The mangled body of the Third Tier Fanged Wolf King was pinned fast to the Frozen Tundra by a Heavy Repeating Crossbow bolt. Thick black blood seeped from its wounds and slowly mingled with the muddy water.

The heavy city gates slid open without a sound, and Blackpine Fief's light cavalry rode out.

Their horses trampled through the bloody mud, iron hooves thudding down one after another and splashing dark slurry.

The knight at the front held the reins in one hand and leveled his lance with the other, finishing off the Grayback Demon Wolves still twitching on the ground. His movements were clean and swift; he wasted no effort on any one carcass.

Farther away, a Shadowstalker Wolf would occasionally spring from a heap of bodies.

They were badly wounded but still quick, hugging the ground as they darted toward gaps between the corpses and the edge of the trench, trying to escape in the chaos.

Blackpine Fief's knights closed in from both sides. A thrust from the front forced a wolf to turn, and a rider behind immediately struck it down. Its body tumbled into the muddy water, thrashed twice, and bled out.

Only after they had confirmed that nothing alive remained on the perimeter did the Auxiliary Soldiers come forward.

Some bent over the wolf carcasses, cutting them open to pry out Primordial Blood Crystals and slicing away usable pelts and bone plates. They sorted the spoils by their markings and carted them off load by load.

Others carried short hooks, dragging the Demon Wolves that had not quite died aside to finish them off before they could bite anyone with their last breath.

On the observation platform, the wind stung their faces.

Several Inland lords stood behind the high platform, staring fixedly below. Their throats worked