Chapter 24: First Blood (1)
Morning arrived beneath a sky of pale gray clouds. The temporary camp stirred to life long before sunrise. Soldiers extinguished the remaining campfires while knights inspected equipment and prepared mounts for the day’s journey. Frost covered tents, wagons, and armor alike, giving the entire clearing a silver-white appearance beneath the dim morning light.
Ethan emerged from his tent just as the first rays of sunlight touched the tops of the surrounding pines. The cold air filled his lungs — fresh, sharp, familiar. For a moment he simply stood there and watched the camp awaken. In his previous life, mornings like this had become commonplace. Yet standing here once more as a ten-year-old boy, surrounded by people who were still alive, felt strangely different.
A soldier passed carrying bundles of firewood. Nearby, several apprentices struggled to secure equipment to a supply wagon while receiving impatient corrections from a veteran knight, and the sight drew a faint smile from Ethan.
Some things never changed.
"Enjoying the show?"
Roland approached while fastening the straps of his gauntlets. Ethan glanced toward the apprentices. "They’ll probably get it right eventually."
Roland followed his gaze. "Eventually." A moment later he shook his head. "Or Gareth will make them repeat the task until sunset."
That possibility seemed equally likely.
The final preparations concluded quickly. Within half an hour, the extermination squad had already resumed its march northward, and the forest welcomed them with silence. Towering pines stretched endlessly in every direction while layers of untouched snow covered the ground beneath their feet. The deeper they traveled into the Ancient Wildlands, the fewer signs of civilization remained — even the narrow trail from the previous day gradually disappeared beneath the wilderness, leaving only the formation’s own tracks behind them.
Hours passed. The journey continued without incident.
The forest seemed endless.
Some of the trees were so massive that several grown men linking arms together would struggle to circle their trunks. Time moved differently here. Decades passed. Centuries passed. The wilderness endured.
One of the younger apprentices eventually rode closer to Roland.
"Sir Roland?"
The knight glanced toward him.
"What is it?"
The apprentice hesitated briefly before asking, "How far does the Ancient Wildlands actually stretch?"
A few nearby apprentices immediately turned their attention toward the conversation.
Roland snorted.
"Depends on who you ask."
The answer earned several confused expressions.
"The Wildlands aren’t a kingdom. They don’t have borders drawn on maps." He gestured toward the endless forest surrounding them. "Some regions have been explored. Others haven’t. There are valleys, mountains, monster territories, abandoned ruins, and places where people simply don’t go."
The older knight’s tone carried enough meaning that nobody pressed further.
Ethan listened quietly while studying the forest.
Roland wasn’t exaggerating.
The Ancient Wildlands truly were enormous. Entire monster populations thrived within its depths. Hidden valleys remained undiscovered for generations. Ancient ruins from forgotten eras occasionally surfaced before vanishing beneath snow and vegetation once more.
Even in his previous life, there were sections of the Wildlands he had never visited.
A sudden cry echoed overhead.
Several apprentices instinctively looked upward.
A large bird circled high above the forest canopy before disappearing into the distance.
"Snow Hawk," Owen said casually.
One of the younger trainees immediately brightened.
"I heard they can carry messages."
"They can."
Another apprentice spoke up.
"I heard they can carry children."
Owen stared at him.
The apprentice slowly shifted in his saddle.
"...No?"
"No."
A ripple of laughter spread through the formation.
Even Roland shook his head.
For a few minutes, the atmosphere relaxed again. Conversations resumed. The younger members exchanged stories while the veterans occasionally corrected obvious nonsense. Despite the harsh environment, moments like these were common during long marches. Soldiers who spent enough time together inevitably learned how to fill the quiet hours between battles.
Ethan found himself listening more than speaking.
In his previous life, many of these voices had eventually disappeared. Some would fall during frontier campaigns. Others would die defending Frostfall years later. Looking at them now, laughing beneath the pale winter sunlight, it was difficult to reconcile those memories with reality.
For a brief moment, Ethan simply appreciated the sound.
Because peace, he had learned, was often easiest to value after it was gone.
Most of the apprentices had relaxed considerably after the uneventful first day, and conversations occasionally drifted through the formation while veteran knights remained alert to their surroundings. Ethan noticed the difference immediately. The apprentices saw a peaceful forest. The veterans saw potential danger hidden behind every tree. That distinction often separated survivors from casualties on the frontier.
A sudden whistle echoed through the forest.
The entire formation immediately slowed. Conversations ceased. Hands moved toward weapon hilts. Several moments later, a mounted scout emerged from between the trees and approached Gareth. The veteran knight listened quietly as the scout delivered his report, then nodded. The scout withdrew.
"We have fresh tracks."
The words immediately captured everyone’s attention. The apprentices straightened, and several soldiers subtly adjusted their grips on their weapons as Roland guided his horse closer.
"What did they find?"
"Frost Wolves. Eight. Possibly nine."
Frost Wolves were hardly uncommon throughout the Ancient Wildlands — the vast semi-civilized frontier buffer stretching between Ravenhold and Northwatch was home to countless monster packs, hunting grounds, and hidden ruins. Wild Beasts equivalent to Knights, they traveled in coordinated packs and frequently targeted isolated travelers. While dangerous to ordinary people, they were well within the extermination squad’s capabilities. This was exactly the type of threat Ravencrest patrols regularly eliminated throughout the region.
Gareth continued. "The tracks are fresh. Less than two hours old." His gaze lingered briefly on the younger members of the expedition, and a flicker of what might have been deliberate calculation crossed his face. "The apprentices will participate."
Excitement immediately appeared across several faces. For many of them, this was the opportunity they had been waiting for — a real hunt, a real battle, not training grounds or sparring matches, but reality itself.
The veterans, meanwhile, appeared far less enthusiastic. If anything, several looked amused.
Owen quietly chuckled. "They always get excited before the first one."
Roland smirked. "They won’t be smiling afterward."
The apprentices pretended not to hear. Ethan remained silent — unlike the others, he already knew exactly how this would unfold. The first encounter always looked easy from a distance. Reality tended to change that perception very quickly.
Gareth raised a hand. The formation halted, and several scouts moved forward to kneel near a patch of disturbed snow.
Even from a distance, the tracks were obvious. Large. Fresh. Numerous. Ethan stepped closer and studied the impressions — the spacing, the depth, the direction. Everything matched Gareth’s estimate. Eight wolves, possibly nine, moving together.
Not hunting. Traveling.
Interesting.
"Can you read them?"
Roland’s voice came from beside him. Ethan glanced up, and the older knight nodded toward the tracks.
"Most apprentices see footprints. They don’t realize how much information is hidden there."
"Pack formation,". Ethan replied. "The largest wolf traveled near the center. The others positioned themselves around it. Not hunting —they are relocating."
For a brief moment, surprise flashed across Roland’s face. Then he slowly nodded. "Not bad." It seems young master has paid enough attention during his classes.
The tracks continued northward through the forest, and ahead of them, hidden somewhere among the endless sea of snow-covered trees, waited the expedition’s first real battle — and for many of the younger members, their first lesson written in blood.
