[Leif's Pov—Continuation]
I stood there, sword dangling uselessly at my side, snow melting on my cheeks like I'd just been slapped by winter itself. My breath puffed out in uneven clouds, trembling less from the cold and more from sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
Because Alvar's aura—no, supernova glow of smug perfection—was still not ready to dim.
"Why…" My voice cracked like a teenage bard at his first tavern gig. I swallowed and tried again, louder this time. "Why the hell are you here?"
Alvar didn't even blink. Stern expression. Marble statue face. Annoyingly perfect cheekbones.
"I should be the one asking you, Leif," he said, calm as if reading weather reports. He stepped closer, snow crunching under his boots like punctuation. "Abandoning your duty as the heir of Thorenhold… and you promised the Saintess you'd be her personal knight. So tell me—what made you come here?"
Ah. So that's why he was here.
Now, how exactly was I supposed to explain this? That it wasn't me who promised anything? That was the original Leif—the one who either died, retired, or rage-quit this story because knights don't get benefits. No dental plan, no free potions. Meanwhile, here I was, reincarnated before the oath scene even happened.
Honestly? Best glitch ever.
I opened my mouth to deflect with charm—or sarcasm, same thing—when a voice BOOMED through the forest.
"YOU. WRETCHED. HUMANS!!!"
I nearly yeeted myself into orbit. Instead, I did the next best thing: I dove behind Alvar and latched onto his cloak like a toddler at daycare drop-off.
"Uh—did we have ghosts in this forest? Because no one mentioned ghosts. Pretty important detail!"
Alvar tilted his head back to give me a side glance. One perfect brow arched like a guillotine. "Are you scared of ghosts?"
"Of course I'm scared of ghosts! They're creepy, floaty, and scream at random hours—that's literally their brand! Don't judge me."
His mouth twitched. And then—oh no—he chuckled.
I glared at him from behind his shoulder, peeking out like an indignant raccoon caught mid-snack. "Don't you dare laugh."
Then...
"HOW. DARE. YOU. HUMANS. SLAUGHTER. MY PACKS!"
The voice shook the air again, louder, rattling snow from tree branches and making my ears ring.
I immediately ducked deeper into Alvar's cloak, sticking my face through the fabric like a cowardly sock puppet. "Okay, not a ghost. Definitely not a ghost."
And then it stepped out.
A wolf. Not just any wolf. A MASSIVE beast, crimson as spilled wine, streaked with faint golden threads, padding forward like it owned the whole forest. Its eyes glowed with fiery embers, radiating the kind of boss-battle energy that screamed good luck, sucker.
It's Gigantic!
Every one scattered behind trees, shields half-raised, muttering prayers that were probably just creative insults.
Alvar stood there, calm and annoyingly radiant, sword resting casually in his hand.
I whisper-screamed, "Is that… is that also a wolf?"
"Yes," Alvar replied smoothly. "That's the leader of the pack."
"The leader? But… he talks."
"He's a clan leader. All clan leaders can talk."
I blinked. He blinked back.
"Oh. Of course. Talking wolves. Makes perfect sense," I said, nodding like an idiot. "Thank you for your TED Talk, Your Radiance."
"TED Talk?" Alvar furrowed.
The giant wolf leaned closer, its nose lowering like a red-scaled mountain, and growled, "WHY DID YOU KILL MY PACK?"
My survival instincts kicked in—I ducked behind Alvar's cloak so fast it could've been a magic trick. Then, because I apparently have no self-preservation, I peeked out from under his arm like some terrified squirrel.
"Uh, respectfully, it was your pack who started it. They attacked our food, our goods, and—" my voice cracked with emotion, "my beer. Do you know how many starving people were counting on that shipment? Including me?!"
The massive wolf blinked once, slow and deliberate, then leaned down, nostrils flaring like twin furnaces. It sniffed me. Loudly. Rudely. I yelped and yanked Alvar's cloak over my head like I was drawing the curtains.
Then the wolf's voice boomed again, echoing through the trees. "BEAUTIFUL HUMAN. YOU… NOT FROM HERE."
I froze. Then peeked out again, this time with slightly more courage because priorities. "Wait. Beautiful? Me? Did you hear that? He called me beautiful."
Alvar groaned like he was questioning all his life choices.
I, on the other hand, decided it was my time to shine. I shoved his cloak off dramatically and marched out like a proud chicken facing a hawk. Hands on hips, chin up, full of fake courage.
"First of all," I said, huffing, "thanks for the compliment. 'Beautiful human' has a nice ring to it. Second, I swear I didn't mean to hurt your pack. Totally accidental. Innocent soul here." I even clasped my hands like a saint for added effect.
Then I jabbed a finger at Alvar. "But… HE'S the one who did most of the damage! Half your wolves are basically souvenirs because of him."
Alvar's slow side-eye could've cut through steel.
"I had no choice!" I continued, pointing at my own chest for sympathy. "My people are starving too, okay? Your wolves kept raiding our food. They stole bread, meat, and most importantly—MY BEER. That's basically a war crime!"
The crimson wolf stared at me for a long, tense moment. Then… it sighed.
"MY PACK DAMAGED YOUR GOODS?" the wolf asked, voice like rolling thunder.
I nodded quickly, eyes wide, head bobbing like a guilty pigeon. "Yes. Goods, food, beer. All of it."
The wolf let out a noise that was somewhere between a growl and the world's angriest sigh. Snowflakes actually trembled in mid-air.
"I APOLOGIZE," it rumbled, each syllable vibrating through my ribcage like bass at a bad concert. "SO… AS COMPENSATION, MY PACK WILL SERVE YOU."
I froze. Brain empty. Just the faint sound of two brain cells clinking glasses in confusion.
"…Uh. What?" I croaked.
The wolf straightened—if wolves could straighten—and puffed its chest, or at least whatever a chest was under that mountain of fur. Its tail lifted high like a scarlet banner, golden threads gleaming in the snowlight.
"FROM THIS DAY FORWARD," it boomed, "MY PACK WILL PROTECT THIS TERRITORY. WE WILL OBEY YOUR ORDERS. YOUR ENEMIES SHALL BE OUR ENEMIES. YOUR ALLIES… OUR ALLIES. YOUR BEER… OUR BEER."
"Wait—what?" I squeaked. "No, no, hang on, not the beer! That's mine. Exclusively mine!"
The wolf ignored me, continuing like it was narrating some epic prophecy. "WE WILL BE YOUR FANGS. YOUR CLAWS. YOUR SHADOWS IN THE SNOW."
I flailed my arms, words tumbling out like a drowning bard. "Okay, but I was happy with an apology! Not… a loyalty oath with branding slogans!"
But the wolf wasn't listening. Of course it wasn't. With the grace of someone who knew they were about to be the dramatic highlight of my nightmares, it turned around and strutted off. Tail high, fur glinting with gold, the full mic-drop exit.
"CALL ME WHEN NEEDED, BEAUTIFUL HUMAN," it boomed, voice echoing between the trees. "FROM NOW ON, YOU ARE THEIR MASTER TOO."
And just like that, the leader of an entire wolf clan walked away, leaving me standing in the snow with a free army I very much did not order off the menu.
I stood there frozen, arms spread wide like I was waiting for the universe itself to step down and explain the rules of this bizarre fever-dream world.
"Is this…" I swallowed, gesturing wildly at the retreating wolf-shaped banner of doom, "is this normal? Like, do humans here just casually collect wolf armies?"
Alvar sighed like a man who had given up on logic, reason, and possibly life itself. "No, Leif. This is not normal. This is… the first time it's ever happened."
I blinked at him, jaw dropping. "…So I'm basically making history?"
"Probably. Yes."
And just like that, I became the leader of a wolf pack.
I stared at the empty forest, trembling, snow falling softly like the world itself was mocking me.
"…But… I was here to chill. Not to rule."