The wolves have started to attack Ruby and Roger systematically. First came the five from the left, which Roger took out with a bullet each to the temple, followed by the other five from the right. Ruby, like a man possessed, brandishes her scythe twice, cutting the wolves in half, right in the belly. Roger was astounded at the young woman's strength considering she couldn't even speak due to exhaustion a few minutes ago.
Another ten wolves then take the place of their fallen comrades. This batch, however, was a little impatient and lunged at the two heroes recklessly. Looking to take advantage of the confusion, The Wolf King hurls two fire balls to Ruby's direction. Ruby takes a direct hit to stomach and right leg but did not even flinch. She just went on to hack and slash every wolf that came her way. Those ten were decapitated instantly. Her scythe cut through them like a hot knife would on butter.
Looking to skip the boring parts and get to the main event, Roger shoots the head of wolves in his line of vision. He disposes the ones surrounding The Wolf King then leaps over to the beast. They now stand within arms reach of each other.
"Whitetooth" says the hunter.
"Roger the Hunter", the prey responds —or maybe it was the other way around.
As soon as the sound of Roger's moniker left his mouth, Whitetooth tackles the human with ungodly force. Roger managed to block the beast's shoulder with his gun to minimize the damage, but he was still sent flying to a wall, hitting his back.
Wasting no time, Whitetooth jumps on a sprawled Roger and unleashes a flurry of punches which the hunter blocked by crossing his arms above his body. Every punch carried the weight of his hatred towards Roger, adding more power to his otherworldly strength.
Whitetooth, seemingly enjoying himself, howls at the blood-red moon as he throws his punches. The remaining wolves respond with howl of their own.
Roger could not lift a finger after the beating he had to endure. His arms are now bruised and swollen his legs are twitching, and his mind could no longer think of anything instead of pain. Incapacitated, all he could do was look at the beast standing atop of him.
Whitetooth, however, was far from done. He grasps Roger by the head, throws the hunter in mid-air, and jumps to him to land a vicious kick to the sternum. The kick connected so hard you can hear the cracking of bones if you were close enough.
Roger plunged to the ground like a meteor falling to the earth, creating a huge creater. He coughs up a lot of blood and almost falls unconscious. Roger gathers every strength he has left to move his pinky finger but failed. His body could not react to his will.
"I will end you now, hunter. Be grateful!" he proclaims.
Whitetooth starts to gather energy in his palm, forming a rotating sphere of flames. The sphere gets bigger every second, like it was absorbing anything that can be a source of flame. Thirty seconds later, it grew twice the size of an adult human head.
"You shall burn here and in hell!"
Whitetooth leaps as high as he can and flings the ball of flame to an immobile Roger. Upon impact, an overflowing blast of sound and light engulfs the area, causing boulders, both large and small, scatter all over the place. Some of thr corpses were even blown away. All that's left of where Roger lied incapacitated was a raging sea of flames.
The Wolf King exploded in laughter at the sight of his archenemy being reduced to ashes.
"You fool! That's what you get for not finishing me off!"
Whitetooth lets out another howl, one that sounds celebrating a triumphant victory. His howl reverberated around The Dark Forest but it was only followed by silence. In fact, it was too quiet.
His eyes scanned the area. Everything was covered in fog and debris with some corpses here and there. What shocked him to the core was there was no longer any sign of life in the battlefield. It was impossible for all three hundred warriors to fall in one night, he thought. Whitetooth assumed his soldiers only took cover from the explosion.
His eyes wandered from where he stood until he finally caught sight of a silhouette, strolling casually. When the fog cleared up, it was the image of a young woman clad in red cloak. She was wielding an unusually large scythe in one hand, while dragging a wolf's corpse by the tail in the other. With his sharpened hearing, Whiterooth can hear she kept muttering something repeatedly.
"Taking a life is so much fun. "