Chapter 89: Direwolf Butcher

Before it encases itself in ice once more, I press our advantage mercilessly. With its balance disrupted, the beast tries to regain its footing, but I don't give it a chance. I leap onto its back, feeling the massive muscles tense beneath my feet. My blade plunges into its side, slicing through fur and flesh with brutal efficiency. Blood gushes from the wound, staining both my sword and armor, but I don't care nor relent.

The Direwolf thrashes violently, its elemental fury still potent, but I dance around its desperate attacks. My movements are a blur of calculated strikes and evasions, each one designed to inflict maximum damage at minimum risk. I slash at its flanks, severing tendons and muscles, rendering its powerful limbs useless.

Its icy breath comes in ragged gasps, frost forming on the ground around us. I drive my sword into its spine, feeling the blade scrape against bone as I twist and yank it free. The creature's fierce howls turn into desperate whimpers.