Founder Of The Greatest Noble Family-Chapter 48:Direwolf Attack[II]

They charged at the Direwolves, swords raised, but Oren soon realized that only he had fully awakened powers among them. The other guards were still beginners, their skills unrefined against the monstrous foes. freёwebnoѵel.com

The main combat troops weren’t nearby so he had to hold on.

The first Direwolf lunged at a guard, its jaws snapping shut inches from his face. Oren dispatched the beast with a swift slash of his sword, the blade glinting in the morning light as it cut through fur and flesh. But even as he fought valiantly, he knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Another ran straight at him from the other side, noticing that Oren raised his shield.

BANG!

With a sickening impact, Oren was pushed back as Direwolf slammed against the shield but Oren instead of pushing against the ground, turned around using the counterforce and kicked Direwolf.

He didn’t want his sword to be struck inside Direwolf’s body which gave opportunity for others to surround.Secondly his strength is not sufficient to kill one go which so he decided to scare them with a strong stance.

However...

"Watch out!" Karra shouted, her voice filled with fear and urgency as one of the wolves broke away from the pack, sprinting toward the village. "One’s getting through!"

Nil and Hilda stood frozen, dread gripping their hearts as they watched the chaos unfold. Just as Hilda gripped her sword, trembling but resolute, a heavy stone hurtled through the air and smashed into the side of one Direwolf, drawing its attention.

"Run! Get to safety!" shouted the chief artisan, his voice booming as he emerged from the fray, wielding a makeshift weapon of old, wooden stick. He locked eyes with Nil and Hilda, his expression one of fierce determination. "You must run!"

Karra, her sword drawn and her resolve wavering, turned to the siblings, her voice shaking. "You have to go! I’ll hold them off. Move!"

But in that moment, the Direwolf, enraged by the attack, turned its gaze toward the old man. It lunged, teeth bared, and the artisan swung his stick in a desperate attempt to defend himself.

The weapon cracked against the beast’s skull but only enraged it further. With a powerful bite, the wolf seized the artisan’s arm, pulling him violently as he struggled against its grip, his shoulder dislocating with a sickening pop.

"No!" Hilda cried out, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw the old man falter.

Karra, adrenaline coursing through her veins, didn’t dare look back. "Come on! We have to move!" She scooped up Nil and Hilda, throwing them over her shoulder, and sprinted toward the construction site’s exit, her heart racing as they fled.

She didn’t want to flee but seeing these kids adamant on not leaving which might be dangerous so ironed her heart and picking them up, ran.

Behind them, the Direwolf finished its attack, slamming its massive paws down with a thunderous bang, sending the old artisan sprawling to the ground. The chaos around them was a whirlwind of growls, shouts, and the clash of metal against claws.

The old artisan braced for death, the direwolf’s fangs just inches from his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, heart thundering, breath frozen in his lungs.

But instead of pain, there was a deafening bang—a shockwave that seemed to shatter the very air around him.

The beast howled, a strangled cry of agony echoing through the clearing.

The artisan cracked open one eye, trembling. The jaws that should have ended him were no longer there. Blinking rapidly, he saw the direwolf—impaled against the half-built wall, a metallic spear jutting through its ribcage.

It thrashed weakly, blood pooling below, before falling limp.

"What in the—" the artisan whispered, dazed.

Then came the shout.

A voice, filled with awe and desperation, tore through the chaos.

"LORD! THE LORD IS HERE!"

It was like a bolt of lightning in a thunderstorm. The voice cut through fear, through uncertainty. Heads turned. The guards, injured or weary, stood straighter. Even the retreating villagers paused in disbelief.

From the treeline, a figure in white-plated armour surged forward like a phantom of war—Roland.

He moved with terrifying precision. A second spear came from behind his back. With a flick of his wrist—

BOOM!

It flew like a meteor, piercing through the second direwolf and pinning it to the earth, its body twitching before falling still.

Roland didn’t stop.

He pulled out two more spears in fluid motion and hurled them in quick succession.

THUNK!

CRACK!

Two more direwolves died before they could even snarl, their monstrous bodies collapsing with earth-shaking thuds.

Oren, bloodied and barely holding his sword, staggered as the last remaining direwolf charged toward him, its eyes burning red.

It leapt—and then, a blast of wind struck from the side, hurling the beast off-course like a rag doll.

Oren collapsed to one knee, panting. Then he looked up... and saw that back—tall, broad, unmistakable.

Roland stood in front of him, unmoving.

His greatsword slid from its scabbard with a cold whisper of steel.

Then, Roland moved.

A storm exploded around him.

Each swing of his sword tore through the air like a hurricane, slashing arcs of silver light. The direwolf tried to retaliate, but it was too late.

With a deafening roar, Roland slashed downward in a sweeping motion.

CRASH!

The blade cleaved through the beast’s neck and torso, splitting it in half. Blood sprayed into the air like a crimson mist.

Silence fell. For a moment, time seemed to hold its breath.

Oren gasped, eyes wide. Then he smiled weakly, collapsing onto his side.

"...Thank the gods..." he whispered.

Around them, the battlefield lay stained with blood and bodies—of both man and beast. But the fear had vanished. The workers and guards, though exhausted, straightened as hope flared anew.

Roland turned, his white cloak now streaked with crimson, and gave a nod to the nearest soldier.

"Secure the wall," he ordered in a voice like steel. "Burn the carcasses. Treat the wounded. The Lord’s banner must not fall."

And with that, the tide had turned. The wall still stood. The city still stood.

And their lord had arrived.

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