Phoenix Rising

071

The Devil's Peaks had claimed countless lives in its centuries-long existence, their bodies left for the vultures until their bones crumbled to dust, leaving behind nothing but the echoes of lost souls that would mourn with the desert winds. Tonight, those ghosts seemed to rise with the growing fog, their cold, spindly fingers grasping for the warmth of the living.

Zhenghuan had never been one to believe in the occult, but there was something unnatural about their current circumstances that planted seeds of doubt in his mind.

The two dozen or so men who were with him had all been roused from their sleep, each one brandishing their sword or spear, anxiously watching their surroundings for whatever threat might appear.

Then they appeared.

Yellowish orbs floating in the darkness, shifting through the thick layer of mist. They were eyes—at least ten pairs, maybe more—staring at them with a menacing gleam.

"Wolves!" someone shouted, voice trembling with fear.

Zhenghuan frowned. There were plenty of wolf packs wandering the Luya desert, but they typically did not cross the Devil's Peaks. Was it only an unfortunate coincidence? Or was there something more sinister at play? He couldn't help but think back to the Xifeng shaman symbols that they had discovered in the valley earlier, and wonder whether they had anything to do with the wolf pack's appearance.

"Hold your positions," Yongxing ordered. "Don't make any sudden movements." He stretched over and picked up a torch, lighting it up in the bonfire. Then, he threw it towards one of the wolves.

Wolves were supposed to fear fire, so hopefully that would help scare the pack away.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen.

A strong gust of wind suddenly swept through the valley, extinguishing all the fires that had been lit at the makeshift camp. Darkness set in, intensifying the feral glow from the wolves' eyes.

"Ah!"

The first wolf leapt through the air, its claws slashing towards a hapless soldier. Shocked by the sudden attack, the man backed away and tripped on a loose rock, falling backwards onto the ground. His fellow soldiers immediately sprung into action, swinging their weapons at the wolf to force him away from their comrade.

Chaos ensued, as the other wolves began to go on the offensive. The soldiers of the Nanmen camp were all well-trained, but the strength and unpredictability of these wild animals made it difficult for them to gain the upper hand. Zhenghuan stabbed his blade through the neck of one beast, then moved to help Mingshen shake another off his back. Through it all, he kept a watchful eye upon Yongxing, impressed by how the other man was giving orders to his men in a calm and composed manner, even as the wolf pack continued to bear down upon them.

Between them, they only managed to cut down two wolves, and gradually the strength of the men began to fade. Already there were several soldiers suffering from large gashes to their arms and backs. If they didn't find a way to either chase the wolves away or to escape from this place, then they were doomed to lose.

Just then, a melody of an ocarina floated through the air, cutting through the fog like an arrow. It did not sound like the music of Duan, but more like a folk song from the southern tribes.

The wolves seemed to hesitate, looking around for the source of the music. They slowly backed away, then turned and fled into the mountains, almost as if they were deathly afraid of what they were hearing.

The soldiers exchanged confused glances with one another, stunned by how their luck had suddenly turned around. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief, collapsing onto the ground in exhaustion.