26 Ambush

His senses picked up the surrounding forest while he tried to establish a Black Room. Reinhardt had warned him repeatedly about the power of magical beasts and that he should not confront them if they encountered an attack on the way to the town.

This did not mean Sturm could not be of help, though. His [Black Room] rapidly copied the surroundings. Reinhardt had already left his position in front of the horses and positioned himself on the right side of the cart, whereas Daga stood on the opposite left side with his daggers readily drawn. It was unlikely that the wolves would run past the horses to attack them, which allowed Edgar to concentrate on their rear, thus covering all directions.

*Awooooh*

Wolf howls continued to echo through the forest, and nearby bushes started rustling. Pairs of red eyes appeared and vanished between those bushes. Sturm could smell their fur, hear their steps and breathing and feel their bloodlust. There was no doubt that each of those wolves would rip out his throat given a chance.

Sweat started to drip down Sturm's back, but he managed to keep a calm mind by thinking of this as special training. He may be a former professional fighter, but he faced a true life and death battle for the first time in his life.

Three to the north, five west and east, and four more south. A total of 17 wolves surrounded them, ready to pounce. Sturm quickly shared the intel with his companions, causing them to make some minor adjustments. They would not disregard Sturm's intuition, as they had a front-row seat during the training sessions in which the boy displayed his surreal instincts.

Suddenly a one-meter-tall and three-meter-long wolf jumped out of one of the bushes towards a tall tree, using it as a jumping pad to attack Reinhardt from above. At the same time, two additional wolves sprinted out of the undergrowth, exposing their dagger-like teeth in an attempt to mutilate Reinhardt's legs.

The feral beasts were much more coordinated than beasts were supposed to be. Magical beasts were known to be intelligent, but employing a three-pincer attack like that was out of the norm. It could only mean one thing; the alpha actively led the wolves.

Two short axe sweeps decapitated both teeth-baring threats approaching Reinhardt's legs. In an attempt to use the time gained by its companions' sacrifices, the airborne wolf prepared its jaws to bite the guard captain's throat off. Reinhardt did not have enough time to lift his arms up. Instead, he pulled his head back and…

*BAM*

...headbutted the wolf straight in the face, smashing its sharp teeth in and denting its snout. With a pitiful howl, the wolf crashed onto the ground and retreated to the bushes before Reinhardt could finish it off. Without its teeth, it posed no danger anymore.

In the meantime, Daga had already cut the throats of another three wolves, standing leisurely to the west side of the cart, looking like he had just cut a few vegetables and not giant, blood-thirsty wolves.

To the south of the cart, Edgar had managed to fend off two wolves with a long spear he prepared in advance. While these two wolves received some light flesh wounds from the spear and their furs spotted bloody spots, they still were in a good enough condition to nimbly retreat from the road and disappear into the forest upon seeing the others being killed.

Usually, Reinhardt would assume that the attack was over, but he trusted Sturm. If the boy was convinced that there were nine more wolves apart from the two that had retreated and the one he had headbutted, then it was more likely that the pack was regrouping instead of running away.

Sturm picked up more movements. "Daga, eight o'clock next to the fallen tree trunk."

The contract killer showed no hesitation and threw one of his knives in that exact direction. His quick action was rewarded with a suppressed whimper.

"Nine o'clock behind the rock covered in moss. Seven o'clock inside the tall forest shrubs."

Two loud whimpers of pain resonated through the forest, causing several birds to have enough of all the commotion and flutter away. As if taking their fluttering wings as the signal to charge, several wolves rapidly closed in on the group, ready to avenge their fallen brethren. They appeared from all sides, drool dripping down their fangs and stares of bloodshot red eyes showing nothing more than ferociousness and intent to kill.

The two guards effortlessly fought off the beasts, and Edgar's commoner strength allowed him to keep his injuries to a few scratches. The desperate charge was doomed to fail. Had the wolves attacked with their full pack from the beginning, then they may have had the chance to overwhelm them right from the start. Culled down like this, and with the element of surprise lost, the outcome was set in stone. The merchant group's only losses were both horses that had been killed in the second attack.

<<It's over. Out of the seventeen wolves, all sixteen are dead…. Wait? Sixteen?>>

A giant shadow leaped over the horse corpses. The wolf was not any smaller than the horse carcasses. It was not that Sturm's [Black Room] had missed the alpha wolf but that it was simply too fast. A single second of distraction was enough for it to enter Sturm's range of senses and attack him before the boy could react.

The alpha had initially planned to slowly wear the group down, giving them a false sense of security by sacrificing some of the weaker members of the pack. No matter how strong the guards were, as long as they were slowly ground down, they eventually succumbed to exhaustion.

The only miscalculation on its part had been Sturm. The information the weak-looking boy had been providing made it lose its family, its partner, and its whole pack. Even if it would die, it would at least take the damned boy with it.

<<Frontal attack. Jaws half a meter away. My reaction time is 0.20 seconds. Confrontation is impossible. Dodging is impossible. Deflecting the incoming body is impossible. Only chance of survival: Sacrifice of an arm.>>

The mind and processing speed Sturm had conditioned over the years quickly and concisely assessed the situation. He knew there was no other way out. Daga and Reinhardt would never be able to react in time, and even if they did, anything they threw would arrive later than those bloody fangs.

*BOOOM*

For a second, a bright bluish light illuminated the whole forest. Blinded by the light, Sturm raised his arm in protection, hoping it would be at the right angle by sheer luck. At any millisecond, the fangs would arrive. The world seemed to move in slow-motion, like how some people supposedly saw their whole lives flash in front of them just before their death.

<<Still nothing… Am I dead?>>

The blindness faded away, and what Sturm saw in front of him could not be explained with logic.

<<What kind of deus ex machina is this?!>>

In front of Sturm laid a burned corpse, smoke still rising from the carcasses' scorched fur. A nauseating, sweet, and putrid smell entered Sturm's nose. The front of the cart was black like it had been burned by intense fire. Snake-like black lines extended outwards from the black center, a few of them ending right in front of Sturm.

Lightning had struck, without any indication, in the middle of the day. The few white clouds in the sky were blending in harmony with the risen sun. Reinhardt was just as startled by the situation and was just as clueless as Sturm was. Daga's mask covered any facial expression, but his absolute immobility was enough indication of his shock.

Seeing that both the captain and the mercenary would not be able to provide an explanation, Sturm turned around.

"Sir! Master! Edgar!"

The merchant seemed to have been knocked out by the thunder. A strand of lightning must have hit him, as there were burn marks on both his arms. After rummaging through the unharmed goods on the cart, Sturm found the ointment Edgar often used for his wounds.

Daga assured him he was fine. An assassin had to learn about life to find the most efficient way to bring death. Edgar's pulse was steady. It was not the day he would greet the Lord of Death.

Reinhardt assumed command and addressed the others. "If the boss is fine, then we have to get going. These magic beasts are getting braver and fiercer. The longer we remain here, the higher the risk of another attack. Those were at least mid-bronze fang wolves. If we meet high-bronze magic beasts, then we are done for. I will pull the cart. Daga, you protect our rear, and Sturm, you keep treating Edgar."

The caravan consisting of a single merchant cart was soon on the way again. Reinhardt had no trouble pulling it through the bumpy road and did not talk for the rest of the journey. This was one of the rare moments he had to fulfill his duty as guard captain, and he would do his utmost to ensure everyone survived under his watch.

<<It has been five years of preparation on earth, then five years of constant work and suffering here. Not to forget my previous life dedicated to combat sports, and what is the result? I almost died to some random wolf. The difference in pure strength and agility is just too vast. Any commoner or magic beast can simply overpower me.

This is … fun! That fear I felt, that feeling of adrenaline pumping through my veins. It is exactly what I want. While I cannot fight commoners, maybe those magic beasts will give me what I vainly searched for in the pit. I just hope Edgar will be fine.>>

Half an hour later, the cart rolled out of the forest into an open field filled with grass, where a new sight interrupted Sturm's train of thoughts. He had always wanted to visit the Great Wall of China on Earth, but he had always been too busy or occupied with something. That small wish of his could never be fulfilled, but the imposing 20 meter high walls in Sturm's sight that stretched over at least a few kilometers were a good consolation prize in its stead.

The short but dangerous journey would finally come to an end.