The wolves, witnessing the death of one of their own, let out furious snarls that echoed through the forest. Their anger turned into a vicious frenzy as they worked tirelessly to rid themselves of the ants clinging to their fur. Some wolves rolled on the ground, crushing their attackers, while others used their teeth and claws to scrape ants off their faces and limbs.
The battlefield was a chaotic and bloody mess. The once-formidable ant army had dwindled significantly; only two-thirds of the original force remained. Yet, they pressed on, relentless and unyielding, their sheer numbers and determination serving as their greatest weapons.
One brave ant managed to bite through the soft belly of a wolf. The sharp mandibles pierced the flesh, and with a sickening tear, the wolf's guts spilled out onto the ground. The pungent, metallic scent of blood grew thicker in the air, fueling both the wolves' desperation and the ants' resolve. The wounded wolf stumbled and let out a pitiful whine before collapsing, twitching once before succumbing to death.
Now only seven wolves remained, but they fought with renewed vigor. One wolf shook violently, throwing an ant into the dirt before lunging forward to crush it beneath its paws. Another ant, undeterred, scrambled up a wolf's leg and aimed for its eye. It got close but was scratched away at the last second, its body flung lifelessly to the ground.
Then, something changed. The wolves raised their heads in unison and let out a chilling, guttural howl. The sound resonated through the trees, filled with raw power. Gerhan, watching through his controlled ants, realized this was no ordinary howl—it was some kind of group-boosting ability. The remaining wolves seemed reinvigorated, their movements faster and more coordinated, their attacks sharper and more deliberate.
But even as the wolves grew stronger, the ants continued to fight. Their unity and persistence bore fruit as another wolf succumbed to the unrelenting tide of mandibles and bites. Every death, however, came at a steep cost. The ground was littered with the mangled bodies of ants, their numbers now reduced to a third of what they had started with.
Gerhan clenched his mandibles in frustration. The fight was taking a toll on his forces, and though the wolves were falling one by one, each victory was hard-won and drenched in the blood of his colony. He knew that if this continued, the cost might outweigh the reward. But there was no turning back now. With the remaining ants still clinging to the fight, he held onto the hope that they could endure and see the battle to its bitter end.