When the old wolf was still the pack leader, its pack settled on a rocky outcrop outside Mophy Forest. The area wasn't ideal for wolves, as there weren't many ordinary beasts to hunt. However, the region was rich in fire-elemental energy due to a geothermal hotspot, which was why the old wolf had chosen to settle there.
Now separated from the pack, the current leader would no longer allow the old wolf to remain. Without the protection of a pack, an aging magical creature like the old wolf no longer had the strength to claim territory rich in fire-elemental energy. Though barren, such areas were still home to many fire- and rock-element magical beasts far stronger than the old wolf.
After searching the Bering Mountains for a long time, the old wolf finally found a spot it was content with—a sunlit area where fire-elemental plants flourished.
Looking at the missing cluster of fire-elemental fruits near its den, the old wolf's sluggish mind couldn't come up with an explanation. No herbivores would dare to approach its lair to steal fruit.
A few fiery fruits were missing, but compared to the rest, it wasn't particularly noticeable. After pondering briefly, the old wolf gave up and returned to its den to sleep. It had just returned from a hunt in the northern territory of a magic-infused leopard. Its stomach was full, and sleep felt like the perfect activity.
But the old wolf was no longer as vigorous as it had been in its youth. During its hunt in the leopard's territory, it had moved cautiously, avoiding any confrontation with the powerful predator. Despite the intelligence gained from mastering elemental energy, magical creatures still retained many instincts of ordinary beasts. Like their mundane counterparts, they became sluggish in winter. However, magical creatures had the advantage of being more efficient hunters, requiring less effort to secure prey.
With its belly slightly distended, the old wolf quickly drifted into a deep sleep. Its blinded eye oozed faint traces of pus, and some of the wounds on its body looked as though they had reopened. Its hunt had clearly not been as easy as it appeared. Yet, the old wolf was a seasoned survivor. Even in sleep, its tail gently swept across the ground, ready to snap awake at the slightest disturbance.
............
Ten days remained until winter arrived when Caesar and Angelina finally left the cave they had stayed in for nearly a week. Given their current position, it would take at least another week to leave the Bering Mountains. Their plan was to escape the mountains before winter fully set in.
Caesar carried a large grass mat on his back, secured with leather straps. This mat served as both their bedding and their blanket. It was three times larger than their previous one, which had barely covered them both. It had taken Caesar and Angelina three days to craft it together. Without the shelter of a cave, they would need this mat to endure the freezing nights spent in the open.
In addition to the grass mat, Caesar had several pieces of salted meat and wooden flasks hanging from his waist. The salted meat, cured from saltwater crab meat, had been frozen solid by the chilling wind despite the lack of snow. Caesar joked that he could probably knock someone out with the hardened meat. The wooden flasks were filled with fresh water—enough to last them five days if they didn't find another source.
Angelina wasn't as heavily equipped as Caesar but carried a small bag over her shoulder. The bag was crafted from a piece of her torn dress, stitched together carefully by Caesar. The fabric was smoother than anything Caesar had ever touched, and he had been extra cautious while stitching, afraid of ruining the delicate material. Thankfully, the princess's clothing was of excellent quality, and Caesar managed to complete the task without any accidents.
"This is silk," Angelina explained. "And not just any silk—it's the finest brocade silk."
Caesar had only ever worn linen his entire life, the common fabric for Garrel peasants. According to the kingdom's rules, silk was reserved exclusively for nobles. While wealthy commoners sometimes wore silk in secret, it wasn't something someone like Caesar would ever see firsthand. Even noblemen like Baron Kyle and Young Master Soren typically wore armor in the military camp, so Caesar had never seen silk garments up close.
Angelina's bag was filled with fruits Caesar had foraged. There weren't many, and they didn't weigh much, but Angelina had insisted on carrying them. She wasn't the type to let herself become a burden.
On their last night by the saltwater lake, Caesar scouted the area one final time, hoping to find the rumored saltwater crab king's hibernation spot. But despite his efforts, he found nothing. When he told Angelina about this, she offered an explanation.
"Saltwater crabs have the potential to become magical creatures. While they're still considered ordinary beasts, they have stronger survival instincts than typical animals."
"If the crab king hasn't shown itself despite its kin being nearly wiped out, it means its hibernation spot is secure and undisturbed. It must be in a sealed-off area."
As Angelina finished speaking, both she and Caesar instinctively turned their gaze toward the center of the lake. Being amphibious, the crab king would be perfectly comfortable underwater. Caesar silently thanked their luck—they had avoided disturbing the lake too much over the past two days. A fully-grown crab king could have been disastrous for the still-recovering pair.
The thought of the crab king brought Caesar's mind back to the brown wolf he had encountered—the most intimidating beast he had ever faced. Without a doubt, that wolf was a magical creature.
Caesar and Angelina traveled northeast. By afternoon, they had reached the farthest point Caesar had previously marked. It was also where he had first seen the brown wolf. Traveling together was significantly slower. Angelina's limited stamina and the supplies they carried weighed them down.
"Hurry up. This place isn't safe," Caesar said, glancing back at the panting Angelina.
Angelina was bent over, one hand on her knee and the other clutching her chest as she tried to catch her breath. They had already covered a considerable distance for the day, and it would have been reasonable to stop and rest. However, Caesar was determined to put more distance between them and the wolf's territory.
Seeing Angelina struggling, Caesar sighed, walked over, and extended his hand. Angelina looked up at him, her sapphire-blue eyes meeting his, before placing her delicate hand in his palm. With a gentle pull, Caesar helped her back to her feet, and they continued toward their destination—a hillside they hoped to reach before nightfall.
............
The old wolf slept soundly in its den. Its belly was full, and under normal circumstances, it would have remained asleep for a day or two, only waking when hunger struck again. Its tail swayed gently across the ground, its movements rhythmic and calm, like stroking fine silk.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the last rays of golden light shone on the old wolf's belly. It rolled over comfortably, ready to drift deeper into slumber.
But suddenly, the wolf's tail froze mid-swing.
At the entrance of the cave, a spotted black leopard emerged. Its steps were light, silent—like a shadowy assassin. The leopard's elongated silhouette stretched across the cave floor, swallowing the last light of the setting sun.
............
Caesar and Angelina made decent progress and finally reached their intended destination just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Angelina collapsed onto a rock like a deflated balloon, rubbing her sore feet. They had covered a significant distance today, most of it along rugged mountain paths that were difficult to traverse.
Caesar removed the grass mat from his back and carefully set down the water and food supplies before starting a fire. The spot he had chosen was a small depression on the shaded side of the slope, providing shelter from the biting nighttime wind.
Having focused solely on traveling today, Caesar hadn't had time to forage for food. Their dinner would have to come from their dwindling supplies. They had only eaten a few fruits at midday before pressing on, and now hunger gnawed at them both. Caesar lit the campfire and walked over to the food supplies, selecting a particularly plump piece of salted crab meat. Skewering it on a wooden stick, he began roasting it over the fire. From his pocket, Caesar retrieved some finely ground fiery fruit powder and skillfully sprinkled it over the roasting meat. The rich aroma of seasoned crab meat soon filled the air, making Angelina, who was resting nearby, look up instinctively. She licked her lips, her gaze fixed on the roasting meat in Caesar's hands.
............
The old wolf staggered through the forest, its scarred body barely carrying it forward. It was already deep into the night, and the biting wind howled mercilessly against its matted fur. Fresh blood still glistened on the wolf's coat, freezing into tiny shards of ice as the wind swept over it.
The wolf had been ambushed—by the northern magical leopard. Its recent hunts in the leopard's territory had not gone unnoticed, despite the wolf's careful attempts to remain discreet. In a territory as tightly defined as the Bering Mountains, every magical creature had its clearly demarcated domain. Crossing those invisible borders was a direct challenge to the authority of the territory's owner.
Winter made everything worse. In the Bering Mountains, survival was a harsh gamble. Herbivores had to choose between migrating to the perilous Mophy Forest or enduring the cold and food-scarce mountains. Carnivores faced similar choices; prey was scarce, and every hunt came at a steep price. The magical leopard was no exception. It was a cunning predator, known for conserving resources and practicing a form of restraint with its prey, leaving certain animals alive to breed for future hunts.
But earlier that day, while patrolling its hunting grounds, the leopard had discovered something troubling. Three members of a mountain antelope family it had deliberately spared were now dead.
Clamping its jaws around the neck of an adult antelope, the leopard's cold gaze fell upon the scattered remains of three antelope carcasses. Around the skeletal remains lay tufts of coarse, brown wolf fur. Nearby, the last surviving member of the antelope family—a trembling young antelope—huddled in fear, watching the magical leopard devour its kin without daring to flee.
A single adult antelope was far from enough to satisfy the appetite of a magical leopard. Finishing the last bite of its meal, the predator turned its piercing gaze toward the shivering young antelope. But its hunger wasn't the only thing driving it now—it was anger. The leopard had been robbed, and it would not let the offending thief escape punishment.
Its emerald eyes gleamed with malice as it pounced, claws outstretched, intent on exacting revenge on the old wolf that had dared trespass on its domain.