The black forest stretched to the horizon like waves under the night sky, with wolf howls echoing back and forth within it.
The howls grew closer and closer, and the air seemed to be filled with the low, growling roars of those snarling beasts as dark creatures moved through the woods. Occasionally, they stopped, lifted their heads, and sharply sniffed out the scent of life, their hard noses shrouded in white mist in the cold air.
A red glow appeared in the darkness, followed by small, scattered crimson lights, densely connecting into a seemingly endless sea.
The young men gasped, and the Erune Nobles who hadn't managed to leave turned pale.
"Prepare for battle!" Count Oting knew they couldn't leave under these circumstances. The general made a swift decision and immediately commanded his knights.
Meanwhile, Brand's young men had already formed their formation.
"Hold the formation!" someone shouted.
