This silence was more torturous than the explosions just now. It was like a centrifuge spinning at high speed, suddenly having its power cut—the inertia remained, but the humming noise vanished, leaving only a suffocating, dead silence.
The air was filled with the pungent smell of sulfur, concrete dust corroded by acid rain, and the scent of blood that had already cooled.
I leaned against a broken battlement, holding the last bottle of warm water, and took a swig. The water flowed down my cracked throat like swallowing rough gravel.
"This is Halftime."
I looked at the devastated defense line.
The main gate was gone, replaced by a smoking crater. Bastion Alpha looked like a bitten cookie. Corpses of Bears and Wolves lay everywhere, entangled, indistinguishable.
Just then, the Wolf ranks parted.
Only a massive white shadow, stepping on the frozen soil, walking slowly to the front.
"Ironfang" Garza.
This was my first time seeing the Final Boss up close.
He didn't dress in rags like those mindless beasts. Instead, he wore a set of exquisitely crafted black steel plate armor, engraved with complex frost runes. He wore no helmet, revealing that scar-covered, majestic white wolf head, regal as a lion.
He stood there like an insurmountable moving iceberg.
"So this is the Foreman of the Demolition Crew?" I whispered a complaint, but my palms gripping the nail gun were sweaty.
Garza looked up.
Across hundreds of meters, I felt those ice-blue eyes lock onto me precisely like infrared guidance.
"Human."
Garza's voice wasn't loud, but it resonated directly inside my skull. It was a low-frequency sound wave carrying a natural [Intimidation] aura.
"Your wall is interesting. Your fire had a kick."
Even from this distance, I could see a trace of expression on the Wolf King's face—a hunter's appreciation for the prey's dying struggle.
"But the game is over. My patience is used up."
Garza extended a claw clad in a black iron gauntlet, pointing at me.
"Give the key to me."
"In exchange, the others in this city... do not have to die."
Dead silence.
I heard rapid breathing beside me. The surviving Cat-kin and Ursine warriors looked at each other. In this desperate moment, the temptation of the phrase "do not have to die" was heavier than gold.
"But I don't need corpses," Garza added, tone arrogant. "Except for you, the others wear collars and go to the northern mines. "
I took a deep breath, forced myself to stand straight, dusted off my clothes, and walked to the crumbling terrace.
I pulled down the heavy brass megaphone.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"Hey, Big Dog."
My voice spread through the canyon via the current, carrying a laziness and mockery that surprised even myself—the tone of someone who had seen through life and death.
"You call that mercy." My voice echoed through the heavy brass megaphone. "Putting collars on my people and sending them to die in the dark."
I saw Garza narrow his ice-blue eyes. "
I am a builder, Ironfang," I said, "I pour foundations. I erect walls. But I don't build cages for my own kind. And I certainly don't kneel to wild dogs."
"Also, I have a counteroffer here."
I raised my right hand.
Under the gaze of four thousand wolf eyes, and hundreds of defenders behind me.
Slowly, standardly, and extremely provocatively—
I raised my middle finger.
"Fuck off."
In that instant, time seemed to freeze.
This was a universal gesture across races, languages, and even dimensions.
Then.
BANG!
I pulled the trigger of the nail gun in my left hand.
The last long steel nail whistled out. Of course, this distance couldn't hurt Garza at all; it was just a footnote to that middle finger.
The nail flew hundreds of meters, exhausted, and fell with a ding onto the frozen soil in front of Garza.
Less than half a meter from the Wolf King's war boot.
This was the response.
This was the declaration of war.
Garza looked down at the rusty steel nail.
Then, I saw him smile.
The smile split to his ears, revealing two rows of pale, dagger-like fangs.
"Good."
His voice was no longer calm but carried biting killing intent.
"Since you don't want a collar."
"Then I will gift you a coffin."
Garza abruptly drew the weapon from his back—a two-handed greatsword emitting extreme freezing air, the blade two meters long, seemingly carved from a single block of ten-thousand-year-old mysterious ice.
BOOM!
A terrifying shockwave erupted with him at the center, blowing away the surrounding snow instantly.
"All units, listen!"
Garza raised the ice sword high, the tip pointing straight at the crumbling bastion beneath my feet.
"Crush them! Leave not a single intact brick on this land!"
"KILL!!!"
Four thousand Wolves let out their final roar.
The black tide surged again, and this time, the white wave was at the very front.
I looked back at the comrades behind me who, though desperate, still gripped their weapons tight.
I pushed up my glasses, a glint of resolute cold light in my eyes.
I looked toward the towering cliff, chanting in my heart:
"Zayla, it's all on you."
Wolf King Garza's Character Design
Middle Finger: Delivered.
Alex has no mana, no ammo, and a shovel. Garza has an army and a magic sword.
Question of the Day: What is the best weapon for a final stand?
(Click to equip your loadout)
?? A) Sword.
Result: The Hero's Delusion. Cool anime pose? Check. Actual combat effectiveness with 0 Sword Mastery? Zero. You trip and stab yourself.
?? B) Gun.
Result: The Empty Threat. "Click. Click." Without ammo, it's just an expensive paperweight. You can throw it, I guess? Damage: 1.
?? C) Shovel (The Engineer's Choice).
Result: The Market Gardener. Winner. Dig a trench, mix concrete, or split a skull. It implies you are ready to bury the enemy right here. Intimidation: +100.
Follow and Rate. The mountain is about to fall.