CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER 47: WOLF PACK_1

Dismas raised his hand and pointed. "That one, closest to the Wolf Faction. If the Wolf Faction makes a move, they’ll definitely be the first ones hit."

"This group has at least twenty men. With our strength, taking them down will be difficult. If we get tied up with them, it will surely alert the Wolf Faction. And if even one or two escape, our plan will be exposed."

Balistan slowly shook his head, his single eye reflecting the firelight with unwavering composure.

His words reminded Lance that their first step had to be flawless; anyone who escaped could compromise the entire plan.

"Let’s target this one," Lance decided. "It’s the closest to us and farthest from the other bandit strongholds. With only thirteen people, they’ll be an easier target. After we take them down, we’ll begin executing the plan."

Opting to pick the low-hanging fruit, the squad tidied up, extinguished the campfire, and disappeared into the darkness.

Dismas, having been this way once before and being more familiar with the wilderness, took the lead, responsible for clearing the path. Second was Balistan, whose main duty was to watch for enemies on their flanks and protect Lance, who walked third. In an encounter, Balistan needed only to take a step forward to shield Dismas as well. Reynard brought up the rear, guarding against enemies from behind and possessing the strength to counterattack. Lance walked in the middle, responsible for command, healing, and applying buffs. As long as Lance was fine, the squad’s combat effectiveness would remain solid.

Marching at night made it difficult to maintain complete silence, but as a small group, they managed to minimize noise with care.

Soon, Dismas, at the front, stopped and raised his hand, pointing to the side and gesturing for the others to see. Lance took two steps forward to look. It was a partially collapsed ruin. In the dark of the night, light shining through gaps in the structure revealed walls covered in various vines.

The locations of these bandit strongholds were strategically chosen; naturally, more powerful bandits occupied better positions. Aside from graves, there were quite a few building ruins on both sides of this old road, though it was unclear how they had come to be abandoned. Once this current matter was resolved, Lance planned to systematically investigate these abandoned buildings; his credentials as an archaeologist were genuine.

But right now is the time to get to work.

Surveying the terrain, Lance noted the flat surroundings. Although there were no lookouts on the perimeter, he could clearly see Bells strung around the camp to ward off wild animals. This was a more thorough precaution than they’d encountered with the previous groups, signaling that this target would be more difficult. The buildings were constructed of brick and stone. If the enemy holed up inside to defend, bows and Crossbows would be largely ineffective. As for the squad rushing in, the risk was too great. The open approach was long enough for the bandits to react, and besides, no one knew what lay hidden inside. Dismas’s information could only serve as a reference. He hadn’t had enough time to investigate thoroughly, so Lance needed to be extremely cautious.

Seeing no good opportunity, Lance gestured with his hand, and the squad members carefully retreated. They only spoke once they were a safe distance away.

"We’ll make our move in the latter half of the night when they’re sound asleep. For now, everyone find a place to rest."

Naturally, no one objected; the journey from their last location had already taken a considerable toll on their stamina. Of course, they couldn’t risk a campfire, so they found a spot under some trees, concealed by bushes. Lance took out food and water for them: jerky made from meat that had been steamed, then air-dried and cured. In this era, fresh food preservation methods were limited, or rather, common folk lacked the means. Thus, any surplus meat had to be carefully processed. Preservation methods were actually quite similar worldwide, which is why things like cured and smoked meats appeared in various regions.

"I’ll keep watch. You all rest." Their main combatants needed to rest well to face the enemy in peak condition. He, however, wasn’t as concerned for himself; he could use his abilities to stay prepared. None of them had much objection, as these matters had been discussed earlier.

"I’ll set up the alarm Bells," Dismas said, taking a cord strung with small Bells from his belt pouch. This kind of device was common outdoor equipment; most experienced mercenaries carried one. It wasn’t meant to detect people but wild animals, though humans occasionally triggered them too. Once set up, he would remove the small cloth strips stuffed inside the Bells to arm them. Anything that touched the cord would make them ring, and it might even trip an intruder.

They all lay down, while Lance sat quietly among them, waiting and contemplating potential problems and how to solve them.

When should we make our move? Lance recalled facing a similar dilemma before. The answer was that people are most relaxed and drowsiest in the latter half of the night, around four or five in the morning. Psychologically, this made sense too. If the first half of the night passed without incident, people would naturally relax. Three or four in the morning marked the deepest part of the night, just before dawn. The approaching daylight brought a sense of safety, which in turn lowered their guard. A hunter must have sufficient patience...

TING!

A very faint sound. Lance abruptly spun around, instinctively drawing his Short Sword. He spotted a pair of faintly glowing eyes in the darkness staring at him. The others also woke up and quickly got to their feet. They were all veterans; true sleep was unlikely in such an environment. They had merely been dozing to restore their stamina and alertness.

"Wolves," Lance warned, gripping the Short Sword in his hand and staring intently ahead. He had to admit, it was his mistake. He’d been flanked without realizing it. If Dismas hadn’t set up the alarm Bells, they likely wouldn’t have noticed the wolves until they charged in.

The sound of the men stirring halted the wolf pack’s advance, but they continued to prowl the periphery, clearly unwilling to give up so easily.

"Six of them. Probably attracted by the smell of blood."

"The corpses were cleared from the previous campsite. Nothing to eat there, so they followed us."

"Are we going to eat wolf meat? My teeth might not be up to it."

Dismas and the others reacted calmly to the wolf pack’s appearance, even nonchalantly analyzing their likely origin. Indeed, Reynard’s armor was impervious to wolf bites; he alone could probably kill all these wolves.

But looking at these wolves, Lance had a new idea.

"Could we drive these wolves toward the bandits’ camp?"

As soon as he said this, the others understood his meaning, though they all found the idea somewhat preposterous.

"You want the wolves to attack the camp? But wolves won’t listen to us."

"Wolves run faster than humans in the wild; we can’t catch up."

"What do you think this jerky in my hand is for?"

As he spoke, Lance tossed out a piece of jerky. The wolves scattered in alarm but were quickly drawn back by the scent of the meat. A wolf, noticeably larger and more powerfully built than the others—clearly the pack leader—emerged from the darkness.