Keep fighting

More and more Frostjaw Wolves surged toward Khazik and the other three, flooding through the strange ice pillars as though the pillars were nothing more than a one-way passage.

Each wolf leaped into the fray, accompanied by low growls, and the cold killing intent permeated the air.

Khazik's expression grew more serious as he gripped his sword tightly, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The situation was becoming increasingly dire for the four of them, facing such a powerful enemy.

Khazik gritted his teeth, glancing at the three beside him, all of them bloodied and their stamina waning.

He swung his sword once again, cutting down another Frostjaw Wolf, but the wolves kept coming, wave after wave.

The one-way passage seemed endless, and the sheer number of wolves was enough to fill them with despair.

"Hold on! These ice pillars will disappear soon!" Khazik shouted.

These ice pillars were conjured by the Frostjaw Alpha's magic and wouldn't last forever.

If they could survive long enough, the pillars would vanish.

Hearing their captain's words, Lucius, Harley, and Albert quickly closed ranks, forming a defensive circle, their backs to each other, gripping their weapons tightly.

The wind howled, and the Frostjaw Wolves attacked in waves, their claws tearing through the air, while their howls pierced the night sky.

Lucius's face was pale, the wound on his stomach worsening, and blood dripped onto the snow, staining the ground red beneath him.

With each swing of his sword, Lucius felt agonizing pain, as if every strike tugged at his internal organs.

His breathing became labored, and the pain from his wounds nearly caused him to lose his grip on his sword.

But he clenched his teeth, forcing himself to keep fighting.

Outside the ice pillars, Borne, Dillon, Victor, and the others arrived at the battlefield, seeing the towering ice pillars surrounding Khazik and his team.

Though they couldn't break through the pillars to enter, their arrival undoubtedly eased the pressure on Khazik's group.

Borne looked at the scene before him, his heart filled with anxiety, but he knew that the only thing they could do now was engage the Frostjaw Wolves head-on and buy time for their captain.

Outside the ice pillars, the battle raged fiercely.

The growls of the Frostjaw Wolves and the shouts of the humans intertwined, and the battlefield air seemed frozen by blood and cold.

"Hold them off! We can't let the wolves break through!"

The scouts swung their weapons tirelessly, fending off the Frostjaw Wolves.

Inside the pillars, Khazik noticed that the number of wolves had significantly decreased, and the pressure within the ice pillars had lessened.

"Just one more minute!"

Khazik shouted, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

"Yes!"

The scouts shouted back with all the strength they could muster, their voices hoarse from exertion.

Heywood instinctively dodged backward, but the Frostjaw Wolf was craftier than he anticipated, attacking before he could land on his feet.

An ice spike tore through the air, piercing straight into his chest.

The spike drove deep into Heywood's chest, and the pain instantly surged through his entire body.

He collapsed to the ground uncontrollably, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

The crimson liquid trickled down his lips, staining the white snow beneath him.

Heywood felt the sharp pain, but even so, he did not release his grip on his weapon.

In the throes of agony, he clenched his teeth, summoning the last of his strength, and thrust his sword deep into the body of the Frostjaw Wolf lunging at him.

The moment the wolf was impaled, it let out a bloodcurdling howl before collapsing to the ground.

"Heywood!" Dalton's voice was filled with desperation.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Heywood lying on the ground, his face covered in blood, his chest wound grievous.

"Don't... worry about me..."

Heywood weakly lifted one hand, trying to stop Dalton from approaching.

His chest heaved violently, blood continually gushing from his mouth, staining the snow red.

"Kill them..."

Heywood's voice was faint, barely more than a whisper, his final words.

His eyes slowly lost their light, and his consciousness faded.

He knew he was at the end of his life.

As he felt his heart stop beating, his eyes finally closed.

Dalton gripped his weapon tightly, his heart filled with rage and sorrow.

One minute... just one more minute, but this short time felt like an eternity.

More and more scouts fell, their blood staining the cold ground, the light fading from their eyes.

Every surviving scout fought with every ounce of strength they had, swinging their weapons furiously.

"Five more seconds!"

Khazik's voice echoed through the blizzard, though many had already lost the ability to respond, fighting purely on instinct.

"Five!"

Khazik's countdown made the wolves even more frenzied.

Dalton let out a pained roar as blood spurted from his left arm, instantly turning the snow beneath him red.

A Frostjaw Wolf had bitten off his left hand, but it didn't flee.

It stood its ground, grinning as if mocking Dalton's helplessness.

"You damn magic beast!"

Dalton roared through the pain, gripping his sword tightly in his remaining hand, the fire of rage burning away the last of his sanity.

Ignoring the agony, he swung his sword with all his remaining strength, slashing down on the wolf's head.

The blade cut through the air, striking the wolf's skull with a sickening thud, blood splattering everywhere.

The wolf's mocking grin turned into a wretched scream as its head split open, and it collapsed to the snow.

"Four more seconds!"

Dalton looked down to see his right leg was now clamped in the jaws of another Frostjaw Wolf, blood pouring from the wound.

Without hesitation, he drove his sword through the wolf's body, blood spurting out and splattering across his face.

His face grew paler, the blood loss making him dizzy, but he knew he would not leave this battlefield alive.

This realization brought him a strange sense of relief.

A faint smile crossed his lips, and then he let out a wild, maniacal laugh, his laughter echoing through the blizzard and the howls of the wolves.

"Hahaha! Come on! Come at me, all of you!"

Dalton laughed madly, charging headlong into the pack of Frostjaw Wolves, his sword slashing left and right, each strike accompanied by the wolves' howls of agony.

With each wolf he killed, his wounds deepened.

He no longer felt the pain, his mind consumed by a single thought.

Kill as many Frostjaw Wolves as he could.

Borne saw Dalton rushing into the wolf pack alone, his heart filled with unbearable pain and fury.

Instinctively, he wanted to rush over and help, to save his comrade.

"Don't go! The captain needs us!"

Dillon shouted, his voice filled with a stern finality.

Borne froze, tears streaming down his face.

He knew Dillon was right—Captain Khazik still needed them, and now was not the time for rash actions.

"Don't look! Keep fighting!"

Dillon's words cut into Borne's heart like a knife.

Borne gritted his teeth, holding back his grief. He forced himself not to look in Dalton's direction.

His hands gripped the warhammer tightly, the mix of blood and tears soaking his skin.

Dalton's body swayed, his right leg finally giving out as a Frostjaw Wolf bit through it, leaving him standing on just his left leg.

His bones were exposed to the icy snow, blood flowing freely, quickly staining the snow beneath him.

The cold air made the pain sharper, but Dalton didn't seem to care. He tilted his body, still laughing manically.

His laughter echoed through the blizzard, hoarse and wild, as if even in the face of death, he would not yield.