The terrifying silence of the marsh was instantly shattered by a chorus of harsh, guttural snarls echoing from the dense fog. The smell of copper and wet, mangy fur flooded the air—rogues.
Within seconds, the brush exploded as three massive, scarred wolves lunged from the shadows. They weren't an organized hit squad; they were starving, lawless scavengers. To them, we weren't a royal party on a quest—we were targets. Their crazed, yellow eyes locked onto me, tracking the expensive, reinforced scouting leathers I wore and the gleaming, priceless black diamonds at my throat. They wanted to kill us for what we carried.
For a single second, the wolves faltered, their paws skidding in the mud. The sudden, violent flash of my purple magic and the sharp smell of ozone in the air clearly took th
