Caesar let out a furious roar as he charged at the Moon Wolf, which was still gathering magic in its gaping maw. The glowing point of light in the wolf's mouth grew rapidly, expanding from the size of a grain of rice to that of a fist, and it continued to grow. The Moon Wolf's bloodshot, lone eye glared fiercely at the small human charging toward it, filled with cold contempt for its prey.
Caesar slammed his body into the Moon Wolf, causing it to stagger slightly, but the glowing light in its mouth remained locked on him. A chilling sense of danger gripped Caesar's heart; without a second thought, he leaped directly at the wolf's head, determined to interrupt its spell. He wasn't sure how magical creatures cast spells, but he knew one thing: if the wolf's mouth was forced shut, the magic wouldn't be released.
The shield strapped to Caesar's left arm was already bent out of shape. This once-sturdy piece of equipment, custom-made for him, had been reduced to a crumpled scrap of metal in less than a month. He raised the battered shield and smashed it down on the wolf's injured head. Warm wolf blood splattered over Caesar, but the Moon Wolf remained unshaken, its lone eye staring at him with a glimmer of mockery.
"Damn it!" Caesar cursed, throwing aside the broken shield. With his right hand, he drew his short dagger, and with the last reserves of his fighting energy, he launched himself into the air. Fueled by gravity and sheer desperation, Caesar descended, driving the dagger straight toward the Moon Wolf's lone eye.
At that critical moment, the Moon Wolf was unable to dodge. Just like human mages, magical creatures could not be disturbed during the final moments of a spell's preparation. Its body convulsed briefly as Caesar's dagger plunged into its eye socket.
"Awwooo!" The Moon Wolf let out an agonized howl. Caesar gripped the dagger with both hands, clinging to the wolf's head as it thrashed wildly. Blood gushed from the destroyed eye, and the Moon Wolf's vision was now entirely gone. Worse still, the spell it had been preparing—a flash bomb—was disrupted, but not dissipated.
The magic erupted inside the wolf's mouth.
The wolf's fur provided some resistance against magic, especially light-based spells, but the soft flesh inside its mouth had no such protection. A properly executed flash bomb could kill multiple ordinary humans with its explosive force and burning light. Now, all that destructive power was unleashed directly within the Moon Wolf's own skull.
White light seeped from between the wolf's clenched teeth, and Caesar, still hanging onto its head, caught the acrid smell of burnt meat. The intense heat and force of the explosion wreaked havoc inside the creature's mouth, and even its resilient body could not fully withstand such internal devastation.
The majestic Moon Wolf, once an apex predator, was now staggering like a broken doll. Its body, already riddled with wounds from Caesar's relentless attacks, was pushed beyond its limits by the internal explosion.
Caesar, his fighting energy entirely depleted, clung desperately to the dagger embedded in the wolf's eye socket. Without the energy circulating through his body to numb the pain or heal his wounds, every nerve screamed in agony. His vision blurred, and his body trembled, but he refused to let go. He knew victory was close. The more the wolf thrashed, the deeper the dagger cut, and the closer it came to death.
The Moon Wolf could feel it too. The heavy loss of blood, the unbearable pain from both physical and magical wounds—it could no longer fight against the inevitable. For the second time in two nights, it felt the cold shadow of death creeping over it. But this time, there was no moonlight to heal it, no miraculous breakthrough to save it.
The Moon Wolf let out a low, mournful growl—a sound filled with both regret and resignation. Perhaps it was never destined to lead its pack to glory. Perhaps this was always how its story was meant to end. But even in death, it would not let its killer leave unscathed.
Using the last remnants of its strength, the Moon Wolf charged forward with Caesar still clinging to its head. It knew Caesar had reached his limit as well—it was determined to take him down together.
The wolf and man tore through the forest at breakneck speed. A massive tree suddenly blocked their path, but the blinded Moon Wolf couldn't see it and crashed headlong into it. Caesar, still on the wolf's head, spat out a mouthful of blood, along with fragments of his ruptured organs. He had borne the brunt of the collision, and his body was now a mangled mess—countless broken bones and severely damaged internal organs.
After this final collision, the Moon Wolf no longer had the strength to move. Its head rested against the tree trunk as it stood motionless. If anyone had stumbled upon the scene, they would have realized the wolf had already taken its last breath. In its final moments, the blind eye of the old wolf wasn't filled with regret for life, but with memories of its past.
It remembered being born as a small wolf pup, hunting under its mother's guidance, and playing with the other pups in the pack.
It remembered its mother shielding it with her dying breath after being fatally struck by a magical brown bear.
It remembered becoming vicious and bloodthirsty—not just with prey, but even punishing its own kind. Eventually, it awakened its latent demonic bloodline and transformed into a Demon Flame Wolf at the peak of its power.
It led its pack to tear that brown bear to pieces, though it nearly died from the bear's dying counterattack. But it had no regrets.
It remembered ruling a corner of the southwestern edge of Mophy Forest as the alpha of its pack, with all beasts and magical creatures in the area too afraid to challenge its dominance.
And then it remembered being defeated by a younger wolf, losing an eye, and ending its reign in shame before retreating to the border between the Bering Mountains and Mophy Forest.
The old wolf had lived long enough to earn its name. In its final moments, it was left only with deep reflections on its life.
The battle had raged for so long, with the Moon Wolf's roars and the waves of magic deterring nearby beasts and magical creatures from approaching. In the frigid winter of the Bering Mountains, even low-level magical creatures could dominate their surroundings.
No one knew how much time had passed before Angelina slowly regained consciousness. Though Caesar had shielded her, she had still been thrown far away by the Moon Wolf's attack and had fainted from the impact.
By now, the sun was already setting. The forest was in ruins—broken trees lay scattered, and traces of blood stained the ground. Angelina, her body bent with pain, began searching for Caesar. Though she was seriously hurt, none of her injuries were life-threatening.
Finally, in the depths of the forest, she found the lifeless body of the Moon Wolf and Caesar, pale as a corpse and collapsed weakly at the base of a tree.
Though no beasts were currently nearby, danger could come at any moment. Over the past two days, Angelina had learned much about jungle survival from Caesar. Without hesitation, she grabbed one of Caesar's arms, slung him onto her small back, and began dragging him away from the danger zone. It was hard to believe her petite frame had the strength to carry Caesar, but sheer determination pushed her forward. A long trail of blood marked their path—Caesar's blood.
Luck was on Angelina's side. Not far from the crash site, she discovered a cave big enough to shelter them both. The cave smelled strongly of blood and animal waste, evidence of a former inhabitant likely scared off by the Moon Wolf's magic.
Angelina carefully set Caesar down, leaning him against the cave wall, and checked his pulse and breathing. His heartbeat was faint, but he was still alive. Relief washed over her, but the sight of the deep wound on his shoulder armor made her shiver. The wound was so severe that without a miracle, Caesar wouldn't survive.
Frantically, Angelina tried to think of a solution, but none of the magic she knew could heal such a grave injury. Even if she had basic healing spells, only mid-tier healing magic, learned by intermediate apprentices or higher, could save Caesar's life.
Light magic… Light magic? Angelina's eyes lit up as she remembered the Moon Wolf was a light-element magical creature. Creatures of that level often condensed a magic core upon death, and a light-element core was especially valuable—it possessed the unique ability to heal.
With Caesar's condition worsening by the second, Angelina didn't hesitate. She grabbed the short dagger still clutched in Caesar's hand. Even in his unconscious state, Caesar's grip was iron-tight, and it took considerable effort for her to pry the dagger free.
Meanwhile, Caesar felt like he had descended into hell. Darkness stretched endlessly around him, accompanied by unbearable pain. The void seemed oddly familiar, yet he couldn't remember why. Just as he was about to be swallowed entirely by the black abyss, a faint warmth began radiating from his chest. The light pulsed softly, keeping his fragile consciousness from slipping into eternal darkness.