The felt hanging on the wall, catching the reflection of the firelight, made the embroidered pattern of hounds in pursuit seem strangely alive, imbued with a profound mystery and age.

Beneath the felt was a table cluttered with old books, their covers wrinkled with age. Since they were all in Russian, I had no idea what they were; perhaps chronicles of ancient Russian mythology, or maybe descriptions of the past splendor of that kingdom of Deban.

Looking further left, a hunting rifle hung there. Though the gun was very old, the wooden stock, finished with a layer of glaze, caught the firelight and emitted an oily sheen, as if recounting the reindeer, gray wolves, or even the brown bears—the pride of the Yaku people—that it had once brought down.

Fittingly, beneath the rifle hung a reindeer skull. Its antlers, twisted like branches, refracted strange shadows in the firelight.

The shadows stretched on, reaching the window.

My gaze followed the window, and at that moment, I gasped in surprise.

The double wooden window was firmly bolted shut, yet someone seemed to be outside, because the narrow gap in the center was slightly opening and closing, emitting a creaking sound.

I realized that if the snores of the other two hadn't been so loud, I would have heard this noise long ago.

So, I frowned, threw on a coat, and got out of bed.

As I slowly walked toward the window, a wave of relief washed over me.

Even though I was still two or three meters away, I could already feel the draft blowing from the center of the window crack.

Clearly, no one was outside; it was just a strong gust of wind buffeting the house, causing the window to squeak.

I felt that although the wind was weak, it was intensely cold.

So, I walked to the window, pulled down the latch, and slowly pushed the window open.

Immediately, a distinct pushing force met my hands; the wind was clearly powerful.

When the window opened just enough for a head to pass through, a wild whoosh of air rushed in, tossing my hair about wildly.

The wind was frigid, carrying slivers of rain that stung my face like tiny blades.

But for some reason, I didn't immediately shut the window. Instead, I tightened the coat wrapped around me and stuck my head out.

I wanted to see why the weather, which had been fair and sunny that morning, had turned so brutally cold so quickly.

In the dim pre-dawn light, contrasted with the firelight spilling from the cabin, I could see the vast grassland behind the Labilovich house. Three tall fir trees stood there.

Though their branches were sturdy, they thrashed violently in the cold, driving wind and rain. The leaves on the branches moved like schools of fish caught in a tsunami; occasionally, a lone leaf would be ripped free and blown far across the plain.

Sometimes, even entire branches were mercilessly torn off by the gale and flung into the distance.

I watched the wind and rain swoop down from the heights like brutal, savage spirits, slamming into the grassland, forcing the tender grass into rippling waves. Amidst the flying blades of grass, lightning occasionally illuminated the entire wilderness.

In my ears, there was the moan of the wind, the groan of the trees, and the steady pitter-patter of the fine rain hitting the roof.

These were all normal sounds. However, in addition to them, I distinctly heard another sound.

It was a low, mournful "whoo-whoo..." sound, like a woman weeping.

Quickly, aided by the flashes of lightning, I saw several four-legged creatures running at top speed across the grass not far from the house.

The grass on this plain was generally waist-high; if the wind hadn't been stirring it, I would have barely seen their dark gray backs and the wild fur streaming from them.

These were steppe wolves. In China, these wolves are brown and gray, but in this subarctic region, the steppe wolves' coloring was closer to white.

"One... two... seven... eighteen..." As I counted the animals, my astonishment grew.

Looking at that pack in the distance, and the expanse of the grassland stretching further out, I knew there were more than fifty of these wolves!

This was a gigantic wolf pack. Such a large number, if they attacked the village together, would surely cause a catastrophe; not a single chicken, duck, cow, or sheep would be left.

Alarmed, I quickly shut the window and returned to the bed, shaking *.

was highly alert and hadn't been sleeping soundly; he woke instantly when I jostled him.

He sat up quickly and urgently asked, "What is it? What's happening?"

As I pulled on my trousers, I told him, "Bad news. It's wolves—at least fifty or sixty. They're already behind the village."

Hearing this, * immediately scrambled out of his cot.

While pulling on his clothes, he kicked Daxiaiong.

Daxiaiong didn't wake, so he kicked him again. Only then did Daxiaiong jolt awake, rubbing his eyes and asking, "What's going on?"

Before we could answer, we heard all the dogs outside barking frantically, mixed with shouts of terror from some of the villagers.

This made us dress even faster. Daxiaiong didn't ask any more questions and climbed out of his bunk.

A minute later, the three of us burst out of the room.

The dim electric light in the living room was on. Andrei and the Village Elder were already armed with rifles, ready to depart.

Seeing us emerge, Andrei said, "Perfect timing! Come see what this is; it's a large wolf pack."

With that, he tossed a rifle to me and rushed to open the door and charge outside.

The Village Elder followed Andrei out, and instantly, a blast of cold wind mixed with rain swept in, jolting us all awake.

Daxiaiong hesitated for a moment, then ran back into the kitchen and grabbed a splitting axe and a rolling pin.

He threw the rolling pin to *, while he took the axe and charged out ahead of us.

Just as we rushed out of the house, we heard a sharp crack of a gunshot from the yard.

Following the shot, I heard the Village Elder curse something in a language I didn't understand.

Then we saw the silhouettes of a group of white wolves sprinting past on the dirt road.

The Village Elder and Andrei, each wielding a rifle, hurried after them.

Chasing behind, I asked Andrei, "What happened! Who was the Elder cursing?"

Andrei didn't have time to turn around and just called back, "It was Lauren!"

"Lauren? What Lauren? Is that a person?" I turned and asked Daxiaiong.

Daxiaiong looked at me with equal confusion; clearly, he didn't know either.

There was nothing for it but to keep chasing to find out.

Two legs couldn't keep up with four, and after chasing for a while, we lost sight of the wolves. However, we saw flickering lights and heard a clamor of voices and incessant barking ahead—it was clear the wolves were heading toward the central square.

I wondered, why would these beasts, attacking a village, ignore humans and livestock and run to the center of the square?

In truth, I didn't need to think long to know what was special about the center of the square: the body of the Sea Woman was currently laid out there.

Could it be that this pack of animals had been drawn by the scent of the Sea Woman?

If one or two wolves were attracted by the strong, fishy smell coming off her body, I could understand that. But for such a massive pack of steppe wolves to arrive—that seemed excessive.

Lost in thought, we were already approaching the central square.

The scene before us was utter chaos.

Figures of men and wolves swayed in the firelight; there was a constant mix of fighting, shouting, and various cries of distress.

When we reached the edge, we saw two wolves viciously tearing at a middle-aged man holding a torch.

The man's trouser legs were shredded, his face covered in blood, looking utterly ravaged.

Daxiaiong, running ahead of me, shouted, "Audacious beasts!" and delivered a powerful kick that sent one of the wolves flying.

The wolf let out a few pained yelps, slammed into a storefront near the square, and instantly burst into blood; it was clearly dead.

Seeing Daxiaiong's ferocity, the other wolf didn't wait for him to raise his foot again, but backed away a few steps.

Daxiaiong yelled and charged forward, delivering another kick.

But wolves are cunning; this one subtly shifted its body, dodged the kick, and darted around behind Daxiaiong, sinking its jaws into his backside.

Daxiaiong yelped in pain, grabbed the wolf's tail with his free hand, and lifted it up.

The two-meter-long wolf looked like a fur stole in Daxiaiong's grasp.

Furious, Daxiaiong gripped the wolf's neck with one hand and its hind leg with the other. Veins bulged on his shoulders; with one hard yank, he could have ripped the creature in half.

But just then, a woman's voice rang out: "Assistant! Do not harm any more living creatures!"

Daxiaiong froze and didn't strike. He turned with me toward the sound, realizing that the stunningly beautiful black-clad shamaness had appeared on the street edge, looking at him with anger.

Daxiaiong recognized her and muttered, "What does a woman know? If you don't kill them, they will eat you!" Saying this, he prepared to pull again.

The black-clad woman was unable to stop him, only opening her mouth as if to rush forward and restrain Daxiaiong.

But at that very moment, another change occurred: a black shadow, moving with incredible speed, materialized in front of Daxiaiong.

With a swish, it swept past, leaving several bloody gashes across Daxiaiong's arm.

Stung by the pain, Daxiaiong let go, and the wolf he held bolted away.

As he opened his mouth to curse, the shadow flashed out again from the side like a phantom and knocked Daxiaiong to the ground.

Daxiaiong struggled, wrestling with the shadow. Only then did I clearly see that this was a black wolf, utterly different from the other steppe wolves.

The black wolf's fur stood up like bristles, and it made a low, guttural sound. By its size, it was as large as a lion, possessing seemingly infinite strength.

Many people nearby shouted then: "It's Lauren! Lauren is back!"