Steve crouched fast, barely managing to steady himself on the edge of the block. Two hearts gone from his health bar.
He hadn't expected these things to have ranged attacks. The threat level just jumped several tiers.
Without hesitation, he leapt back inside the village walls. No shield meant no direct fights.
He lost another heart from the fall, but he still had plenty of stale bread left.
Each loaf restored four points of hunger—less than regular bread, but it would do.
He started stacking dirt blocks beneath his feet again, climbing up to get a better view while thinking of a plan.
The villagers watching from below grew restless.
When they'd seen Steve protect Edmund, they were thrilled—proof that the chief's gamble had paid off. They had a powerful ally.
And when he made dirt appear out of thin air, their eyes went wide.
To command the elements like that—it had to be supernatural power.
They all believed the old saying from the nearby town: "Only the extraordinary can fight the extraordinary."
But now, their excitement was fading.
"Is he... losing?"
"No, I saw it! He just can't handle the Wind Wolves' Wind Blades!"
"Then we've gotta help him!"
"Wait—what's he doing?"
In their eyes, Steve watched the wolves for a moment, then abruptly dismantled the dirt under his feet—and turned to start tearing apart one of their houses.
Some villagers panicked, but others caught on. "Wait... maybe he's got a plan?"
"Do we still need to help?"
That earned the speaker a smack to the head. "You idiot! You wanna end up wolf food? Get moving!"
The not-so-bright man shuddered and quickly followed the others up to the wall, gripping hoes and pitchforks like makeshift weapons.
They peered over carefully, forcing back any Wind Wolves trying to climb.
The wolves had all crossed the village's defensive river by now. Some clawed furiously at the wall, trying to tear open a gap; others pawed at the dirt blocks Steve had placed, yet couldn't dig out even a crumb.
Smarter than normal beasts, sure—but still too dumb to understand why.
The alpha prowled along the wall, occasionally licking its lips.
Even through the barrier, it could smell the dozens of humans on the other side. The thought of flesh tearing between its teeth made its mouth water.
It sniffed near the dirt blocks but strangely caught no scent of that block-headed creature—as if it didn't exist at all.
It didn't understand. But that didn't matter. It would lead the hunt regardless.
The alpha bent its legs and leapt—clearing the four-meter-high wall with ease.
Every villager's gaze followed it, hearts seizing in their chests as their limbs went cold.
The wolf landed with a thud, then raised its head in a long, piercing howl. It was both a command and a show of dominance.
It worked perfectly. With just a glance, the alpha saw several villagers drop their weapons. Only a few still clutched theirs, trembling as they pointed them forward.
What an easy hunt, it thought with cruel satisfaction.
It bared its fangs and lunged toward the crowd, eager to tear into a few before the rest scattered.
Then—its body lurched sideways. Its legs locked up, trapped by something unseen. It tried to move but couldn't budge an inch.
Looking down, it saw a square brown box under its paws, with what looked like shovel-shaped pieces on either side.
It strained and twisted, but nothing moved. It was as if its own body no longer obeyed it.
Fury flashed through its eyes. It snarled and snapped in frustration, teeth gnashing wildly.
The villager it had been charging at swallowed hard, then glanced shakily toward Steve.
He had no idea what had just happened—but it was obvious who had saved him. Some kind of summoned... magic tool?
"You okay?" someone ran up, pulling him to his feet.
The alpha roared again, but the villagers didn't even flinch this time. They just backed away, keeping their eyes on the wolf.
The humiliation burned. The alpha turned its glare toward Steve, who was calmly stacking blocks around it, boxing it in tighter and tighter to keep it from firing any more Wind Blades.
From watching earlier, Steve had realized the wolves could destroy blocks. That's why he'd rushed to chop some wood—his supply was low.
He'd crafted a pile of boats, then used them to trap this one the moment it jumped in.
He hadn't killed it yet though. This one was bigger than the others—looked like the alpha. Definitely worth keeping.
Once the cage was sealed, Steve turned back to the wall. The wooden stakes were starting to crack; they wouldn't last long.
So he began stacking blocks on the inside, climbing higher. He extended his earlier floating dirt bridge parallel to the wall, then started placing boats along its edge.
As gravity took hold, the boats dropped over the side. Moments later came the chorus of startled, furious howls from below.
A few wolves scrambled over their fallen comrades and actually vaulted the wall—but Steve had already covered the inside with more boats, crafting new ones as he went. Soon the ground was littered with them.
He reinforced the area around his crafting table with extra blocks, in case the wolves launched more ranged attacks.
Then he leaned over to check outside. No more wolves jumping in.
Instead, every single Wind Wolf sat frozen in place—each one trapped in a boat, glaring up at him with furious eyes.
Relief washed over him.
Maybe because they were immobilized, the swirling gale they'd summoned began to fade. The oppressive clouds broke apart, and sunlight streamed down warm and golden once again.
The villagers just stood there, speechless.
One by one, the monstrous Wind Wolves had been sealed inside strange, square "magic devices," their bodies motionless except for their twitching heads. The sight was eerie—almost absurd.
Some even shared the same boat, snapping and biting at each other in rage, blood spattering as they fought for space.
The air rang with howls. And somehow, there was a rhythm to it—so bizarre it almost made the villagers laugh.
"What... do we do now?" someone whispered.
"What do you mean, what do we do?" another replied, watching Steve methodically slaughter the wolves one by one.
Suddenly, everyone felt ridiculous for ever doubting him.
There was no contest. Steve was far stronger—far scarier—than even Elina's stories had described.
But just like she'd said, he didn't seem to mean them any harm.
Someone glanced at the dismantled house and realized that only the wooden support beams were missing. The planks were all untouched.
That—and the floating dirt outside—felt unreal. Magic, maybe? Supernatural power for sure.
"Where's the chief?" one villager finally asked.
The others blinked and looked around. Watching the bloody scene before them, someone hesitated.
"Let's... give it a minute. We saw him get protected earlier, right?"
"Yeah... yeah, he should be fine..."