"Good, as long as everything's fine."
The leader of the merchant caravan breathed a sigh of relief. Mushroom Town was just within reach, and the last thing he wanted was more trouble. They had already lost nearly a third of their companions to the ogres, and if they didn't sell their goods for a high price, this trip would be a total loss. They might not even have enough to cover the compensation for the fallen.
"Move forward!" the merchant leader called out. Just as he was about to board his carriage, a sense of unease crept over him. The horses pulling the wagons were restless, nervously stomping their hooves and staring at the surrounding forest, their breaths low and shaky.
In the darkness, specks of green, like fireflies, flickered eerily.
A shiver ran down the leader's spine. He raised his oil lamp and hurled it toward the glowing dots.
Whoosh!
The fire illuminated a portion of the forest, revealing gray-black fur and rows of menacing fangs. In the flickering light, the wolves' green eyes gleamed with a mixture of cruelty and cunning.
Dozens of wolves silently crept closer, moving with the grace of seasoned hunters. Now exposed, they no longer bothered to hide their presence.
"Awoooo!"
With a chilling howl, the wolves surged forward, charging the caravan in a deadly, silent assault.
"Wolves! Everyone, gather together! Arm yourselves!" Despite his fear, the merchant leader kept calm. Compared to the terrifying ogres, these wolves, though dangerous, were at least something they could defend against.
For a caravan accustomed to traveling through the wilderness, fending off beasts was an unfortunate but familiar task. Particularly with wolves, they had plenty of experience. And with a powerful adventurer in their ranks, the odds seemed better.
"Form a circle! Keep the women in the center! Don't let the wolves pick us off one by one!"
The wolves halted at the sight of the caravan's glinting swords and blades. Cautious, they hesitated to attack outright, aware that this group of humans wouldn't be easy prey. Yet they weren't ready to retreat either, pacing restlessly around the perimeter, waiting for an opening.
"Brave One, it's just an ordinary pack of wolves. No need for you to intervene." The merchant leader looked at Rod, who had pulled back the curtain of his carriage, and offered a reassuring smile. "As long as we stay strong and don't give them a chance, they'll retreat on their own."
Wolves had their own rules for survival. If their target was too strong, the alpha would abandon the hunt to avoid unnecessary losses. Only in the harshest of winters, when prey was scarce, would they dare to challenge a formidable enemy.
But it wasn't winter yet, and the forest was still brimming with prey. There was no reason for the wolves to take such risks now.
Rod gave a slight nod, not disagreeing. He knew the merchant leader didn't want him to intervene right away, likely fearing he'd demand a reward for his assistance. Rod wasn't oblivious to such small schemes, but he had no interest in taking advantage of them. If he could avoid fighting, he was content to sit back.
"Still, something feels... off about these wolves."
Rod frowned, sensing that something wasn't quite right, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what.
"You're right," the merchant leader agreed with a nod. "Our caravan has traveled to Mushroom Town countless times, and we've never heard of such a large wolf pack in the area. In fact, we've never even heard of wolves here at all."
The sense of unease deepened as they pondered the unusual behavior of the wolves...
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