Cursed System-Chapter 125: The Death Wolves 2
RAGNA POV...
This was one of the very few scraps of information I had ever been granted by that black steel knight, a bitter little truth slipped to me like a secret meant to weigh heavy on my mind rather than help me sleep at night.
How wonderful, I mused inwardly, the corner of my lips twitching in something that could barely be called a smile. Looks like the king of the vicious wolves is finally making his biggest investment.
Even as that thought crossed my mind, my feet were already carrying me backward, step by careful step. This wasn’t something I could handle even at my peak—when my body was whole, my mana flowing, and my mind sharp. And now? Now I couldn’t even muster a quarter of my former strength. Facing those monsters head-on in this state would be no different from signing my own death warrant.
These aren’t like the previous vicious wolves, I thought grimly, a deep frown settling into my expression. If we had encountered these things earlier, our carriages wouldn’t have lasted this long—not even close.
I kept retreating without hesitation, my movements steady despite the chaos unfolding before my eyes. By the time I stopped, I was already well within the perimeter of our so-called safe haven. From here on, all I needed to do was watch. Watch how things unfolded. Watch until the precise moment arrived—then I would stimulate my ace.
From afar, my crimson eyes glimmered faintly, a thin thread of insanity curling within them as I stared at the battlefield. Blood, screams, mana fluctuations—it all painted a grotesque yet mesmerizing picture. At this point, I was completely certain of one thing: the black steel knights wouldn’t last much longer unless they started burning through their hidden cards.
If they’re not idiots, I thought coldly, they won’t hesitate. They’ll finish this fast before exhaustion comes knocking at their doors.
As for me, I needed to conserve what little strength I had left.
My throat burned unbearably, so when a boy with trembling hands passed by clutching a bottle of water, I snatched it without ceremony. I tilted my head back and drank a few mouthfuls greedily, the liquid barely easing my thirst but grounding me just enough. The act helped me conceal the feral glint in my eyes—the madness and hunger lurking beneath the surface.
From where I stood, it was obvious the Death Wolf pack would soon punch straight through the unstable defense line. The demon children’s death toll was climbing at a terrifying pace. No matter how much the black steel knights wanted to hold back, no matter how much they tried to minimize their burden, they would be forced to act.
Howls echoed again and again—low, commanding, relentless. The king of the vicious wolves was hidden somewhere within the Death Wolf pack, and with every howl, his soldiers grew more aggressive, more savage. The newer ones charging forward looked even larger than the earlier beasts, their bodies warped by blood and madness.
I watched as a demon child had his throat ripped open in an instant. Before his body even hit the ground, a sand tsunami surged upward, lifting what remained of him before swallowing it whole.
"Our only chance is now! We can’t wait any longer—activate the magical formation!" a black steel knight from our alliance shouted.
In response, six black steel knights slammed purple-and-white crystals into the ground. Mana erupted instantly, the earth lighting up beneath their feet. Countless dots of glowing light formed intricate sacred geometry—triangles, hexagons, vectors interlocking with impossible precision.
At first, it was nothing more than a faint outline. Then it expanded—stretching outward until it covered a vast area, over a hundred and sixty feet across—becoming vivid, radiant, overwhelming. Within the circles of the formation, each knight planted their sword into designated points.
Moments later, fluorescent light burst forth, shaping itself into thick, phantom chains of purple and white. They looked alive—muscle-like, coiling and writhing as if they possessed their own will. Like massive tentacles, the chains slithered toward the embedded swords, clinking and rattling as they wrapped tightly around the hilts.
With a violent tug, the chains yanked the swords free and swung them through the air, forming a deadly battle stance.
Once the sacred formation fully activated, the slaughter was immediate. Death wolves were torn apart in a bloody spectacle that left everyone staring in disbelief. The more they watched, the more unreal it felt—as if reality itself had cracked.
The cursed children stood frozen in shock, eyes wide as they stared first at the black steel knights, then at the formation they commanded. Awe rippled through them as one. For the first time since the battle began, a glimmer of hope appeared.
The formation became both sword and shield—an offensive engine and a defensive fortress. It dominated the front line, while the black steel knights sat cross-legged behind it, some gripping crystals of varying colors, pouring mana into the construct.
Wolves died in droves, hacked down despite their overwhelming numbers. Yet no matter how fast the formation struck, the Death Wolves seemed endless, pouring forward without pause.
Then it happened.
A vicious wolf slipped through a brief opening—just a heartbeat-wide gap left when a Death Wolf was killed—and charged straight into the demon children who were still recovering.
"Somebody—save meee!"
"I don’t want to die yet!"
Screams erupted. Cursed children scattered, running blindly, crying for help as terror consumed them. Chaos exploded through the camp quarters as more wolves followed.
Suddenly, a sword-chain bolt shot forward. The chain coiled tightly around a Death Wolf’s neck, constricting with brutal force until the beast was strangled to death. Without stopping, the sword’s tip launched like an arrow, piercing straight through the left eye of another Death Wolf, exiting its skull in a spray of blood.
The creature howled briefly, struggling before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
As if enraged by its fallen kin, yet another Death Wolf smashed through the defenses and landed directly within the area occupied by my alliance.
The moment I sensed it—my perception screaming warnings, my mental fortitude calculating trajectories—I reacted. My right hand snapped to my waist, fingers closing around the dagger. With every ounce of strength I could scrape together, I hurled it forward, my body screaming in protest as I committed fully to the throw.
