The night was still, save for the gentle rustling of leaves under the cool breeze. The dense forest behind the Magical Academy stood eerily silent, untouched by the noise of civilization. But hidden within the darkness, something watched.

  Fenrir sat in the shadows, his massive body blending into the surroundings. His golden eyes glowed faintly, cutting through the darkness like twin beacons of molten gold.

  Despite his relaxed posture, his mind remained sharp, and his senses were on high alert. His Lord’s command was absolute—guard the forest, ensure that no disturbance went unnoticed.

  A flicker of movement caught his attention.

  Then, the sound came.

  The rhythmic pounding of hooves against the dirt road.

  Fenrir's ears twitched. A group of humans. Fast. Pursuing something.

  He rose from his resting position, his massive form moving without a sound. His steps left no imprint, his breathing was nonexistent—he was a specter in the night, a predator unseen.

  As he crept forward, the scent of sweat and steel filled his nose.

  Men. Armed. Horses. A chase.

  His golden eyes narrowed.

  At the center of the commotion was a carriage, sleek and elegant, its midnight-black frame reflecting the faint moonlight. Its craftsmanship was pristine, unlike any common noble’s transport. Yet, it was in danger.

  A pack of riders trailed closely behind, their horses foaming at the mouth from the relentless pursuit. Their hands gripped weapons—some bore crossbows, others swords glinting under the pale light.

  Bandits? Assassins? A political enemy?

  Fenrir did not care for their reasons.

  His command was clear.

  Protect the forest. Eliminate disturbances.

  He moved.

  Fenrir took a step forward, his massive paws pressing into the damp earth, and let out a low growl.

  The sound rippled through the trees, reverberating in the air like a deep tremor from the abyss. It was neither loud nor overwhelming, yet it carried a weight that sent shivers through the souls of those who heard it.

  The horses shrieked. Panic spread instantly.

  One of the pursuers lost control, his horse rearing violently before throwing him off. He hit the ground with a loud thud, groaning in pain.

  The other riders instinctively pulled on their reins, their mounts suddenly unwilling to move forward. The animals, despite years of training, could sense something unnatural lurking beyond the tree line.

  A few of the men exchanged nervous glances. The presence of something terrifying weighed down on them.

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  "Tch! What the hell was that?!" one of them snarled, forcing his horse to remain steady.

  Another, his voice lower, muttered, "A beast...?"

  They did not yet see him.

  Fenrir, still concealed in the thick shadows, watched with cold, calculating eyes. He did not attack immediately. He was testing them. Measuring their fear.

  Would they flee, or would they fight?

  Inside the carriage, Leonard sat rigidly, his fingers fidgeting over the edge of his sleeve. Despite his usual composed demeanor, the urgency of the situation unsettled him.

  Leonard was no warrior. His skills lay in intelligence, politics, and leadership—the subtle arts of power. Yet, at this moment, none of his strengths could change the fact that they were being hunted.

  His mind raced.

  Why were they after him?

  Was this a random attack, or something more?

  He wiped his damp palms against his trousers, forcing himself to think. His instincts told him these men were not simple highwaymen. Their formation, their relentless pursuit—this was an organized effort.

  And then, he felt it.

  A pressure unlike anything before.

  It was not from the attackers.

  Something else. Something beyond human.

  His fingers stilled. He turned his gaze toward the forest.

  And then—the golden eyes appeared.

  Two glowing orbs, piercing through the darkness, locked onto him with an intensity that made even his breath hitch.

  Leonard’s mind struggled to grasp what he was seeing.

  A creature? No… this is something far beyond a mere beast.

  The attackers, still unaware of what lurked beyond the trees, tried to regain control of their situation.

  "Ignore it! Stay focused! The target is inside the carriage!" one of them barked, raising his sword to signal a charge.

  That was a mistake.

  A shadow moved.

  Before they could react, a massive black figure emerged from the darkness, stepping onto the road.

  Silent. Graceful. Overwhelming.

  The sight alone stole the breath from their lungs.

  Standing at nearly twice the height of a normal horse, Fenrir’s form was monstrous, yet terrifyingly regal. His black fur absorbed the moonlight, making him appear like a living void in the shape of a wolf.

  But it was his eyes—those molten gold eyes—that truly paralyzed them.

  A beast of this size, with such intelligence in its gaze… this was no ordinary monster.

  One of the attackers stuttered, "What… what the hell is that?!"

  Another, gripping his weapon tighter, growled, "It doesn’t matter! Kill it!"

  They made another mistake.

  The moment one of them raised his crossbow, Fenrir moved.

  It happened in an instant.

  One moment, the wolf was standing still—the next, he had disappeared.

  The wind howled as something massive blurred through the air.

  A scream followed.

  One of the riders was gone, his body missing from his horse. The others barely had time to register what happened before—

  CRASH!

  A sickening sound echoed as the man’s body was slammed into a nearby tree, crumpling like paper.

  Panic exploded.

  "It's too fast!"

  "Fall back! FALL BACK!"

  But there was no escape.

  Fenrir descended upon them like death itself, his movements a perfect blend of silence and brutality.

  Another horse was ripped from under its rider, vanishing into the shadows with a single pounce.

  Steel met nothing but air. Their attacks were useless.

  Their numbers dwindled within seconds.

  The last man standing, hands trembling, tried to run. A desperate, foolish attempt.

  A shadow loomed over him, and before he could even scream—

  Snap.

  Silence.

  The battle was over before it had even begun.

  Inside the carriage, Leonard let out a shaky breath.

  It was over.

  Yet, instead of relief, his mind burned with curiosity.

  What kind of creature had just saved him?

  Who commanded it?

  He opened the carriage door, stepping out. His sharp eyes immediately locked onto the massive black wolf that now stood just a few feet away.

  The beast did not attack.

  It simply stared.

  Leonard, though still tense, took a slow step forward.

  Fenrir did not move.

  His golden eyes, filled with silent intelligence, studied him as well.