Reyland jumped as he reached the first one, diving forwards to roll across the top of its back as its hot breath tore past his head, missing him by inches. He drew his blade across its back as he did, knowing it would barely hurt the beast, but hoping merely to keep its attention on him, not the people behind him. It worked, for as he landed on the ground, the second beast lunged for his exposed neck from the front, while simultaneously the one he had just rolled over twisted to bite at the back of his head.

He dove to the side again, coming up in a roll as both creature's jaws clamped shut around where he had been a heartbeat ago. The third wolf blurred at the edge of his vision and he sucked in his breath as he barely got his blade up in time, slashing it across the face just hard enough to push its head to the side before it could latch onto his arm.

Reyland now stood in the very center of all three beasts, each only a few arms lengths away from him, and each already preparing another assault.

His ears twitched as he heard more screeching beasts at the hole in the wall, but he didn't have any time to so much as formulate a thought before he had to twist out of the way of another pair of snapping jaws. He slashed at the beasts head, managing to sever its long black ear, but the wolf only snarled at him again, undeterred.

The scratch of nails on wood from behind him was his only warning of danger, and he threw himself to the ground at his side, rolling to his feet as the beast landed where he had been standing. For a second he thought the creature had a long tuft of its own fur stuck in the side of its mouth before he recognized it as a torn piece of black cloth from his own riding cloak.

Shit, that was close...

He threw another piece of splintered wood debris at the beast as it spat out the cloth, catching it off guard and forcing it to close its eyes to protect them from the projectile. As its eyes snapped open he was already on top of it, the unwavering tip of his shortsword sliding into its thoat at the bottom of its chin and up into its head, stopping when the tip hit the roof of its skull.

It dropped to the ground, and he danced backwards again as the other two wolves blurred towards him, missing him by a hair as he twisted and leaped and spun in every which way to avoid them.

The giant wolf at last leaped through the opening, right as Reyland's back was to it. He had almost forgotten about it in the heat of battle, so close to death so many times that it was impossible to focus on anything else.

In that moment, he knew he was finished. He was off balance, darting back towards the wall, as the beast lunged in at him. He wouldn't even have time to catch himself before it was upon him.

But right as he braced himself for the jaws, a strangled, gargling scream from behind him echoed through the church.

Reyland got a lucky slash across the eyes of one of the wolves, blinding it just the way Matthaeus had earlier, before risking a glance back over his shoulder.

The sight he saw nearly broke him again.

The old man carrying a spear was there, watching his back... or at least he had been. Now, the old man was seven feet in the air, the gargantuan jaws of the wolf clamped tight around his entire head, lifting him up off the ground as if he were a child.

Reyland tried to block out the wet squish as the man's skull gave in under the pressure.

With a scream, Reyland rushed forwards, stabbing into the throat of the blinded wolf over and over. In his mad rush, the other wolf lunged at him, and he grimaced as its teeth latched onto his forearm in his wild flailing.

The scale armour he wore under his cloak stopped some of the teeth from going through, but not all. He felt several canines dig deep into his arm, but before the creature could really clamp down or shake its head, he drew back his sword and thrust it through its eye, dropping it. The jaws however didn't loosen as it died, and he choked back a scream of pain as the teeth embedded in his arm dropped suddenly, dragging him down to the ground with them.

He could hear footsteps and shouting from behind him, but his blurred eyes couldn't make out anything as he squeezed them shut in pain. He was on the ground, the bodies of the two wolves all around him, gritting his teeth against the pain. He dropped his weapon, wrapping his free hand in the end of his cloak to protect it, before shoving his palm up against the top of the dead wolf's jaws, straining with all his might to force its mouth open.

The long, pointed teeth dug into his palm a bit, but didn't puncture through his cloak or skin, as he slowly, slowly wrenched its jaws apart. The teeth clamped around his arm came free with a wet sucking sound, the yellowish fangs coated and dripping with thick red.

His left arm shook violently from the injury, but he could still feel and move all his fingers. At least that much was good news.

Reyland knew he didn't have a moment to spare. He quickly reached down to his cloak, finding an intact section large enough, before quickly slicing it into a long ribbon with his sword. He wrapped it around his heavily bleeding forearm, pulling the knot tight with his teeth when he was done. It wasn't much of a bandage, but it would have to do for now. Proper medical care wouldn't matter if he died before he could get it.

Pushing himself up from the bodies around him, Reyland braced himself to face down whatever he might find when he turned to the open hole, but even still what he saw caught him off guard.

People. A dozen of them, at the very least, with more swarming in from behind. It was the villagers. They had risen from the basement, staggering and feeble, but there they stood. At least four bodies had joined the old man's at the ground, and the floor was so slick with blood that people were at risk of slipping it in, but they kept moving forwards.

"Oi, oi!" Reyland yelled, watching helplessly as the people of Arcaster threw themselves at a seven foot tall wolf with nothing but kitchen knives, wooden planks and pans for weapons.

A middle aged woman screamed, rushed the creature with a cast iron pan in hand, terified tears running clearly down her face. She smacked it over the nose with all her might, before stumbling backwards uncertainly as the beast's wide, smiling lips didn't even waver at the blow.

The wolf snapped forwards, twisting its head sideways to bite the woman around the midriff, picking her up and crunching its jaws down, bending her body into a V shape as the screamed in pain, and then went silent.

Why, why?! Reyland shouted in his mind. Why had they come up here?! They were supposed to stay downstairs, supposed to stay safe!

...But of course he already knew the answer. Him and Griff weren't enough. The old man with the spear hadn't been enough. None of it had been enough. There were just too many of the beasts. Even as the giant wolf dropped the woman's lifeless body to the ground, licking its lips at the red that stained them, another half dozen wolves crowded around its back legs, impatient to run inside but unwilling to push past the giant beast that blocked their path.

Reyland screamed again, pain, anger, sadness and a million other feelings swirling in his chest as he rushed forwards, pushing his way through the crowd of people.

He caught a quick glance of Terry, clutching the dead man's spear in both hands and standing off to the side of the beast, before he was standing right in front of it.

Reyland's blade carved a crescent out of the night air, the beast rearing back at the sudden assault from what it had assumed to be easy prey. The tip of his blade carved through its nostrils, sending a line of orange blood soaring through the air. Reyland didn't let up for a second, because he knew as soon as he did, he was likely dead.

His blade swished forwards, over and over again, driving the beast back as he relentlessly carved its face, neck, chest and legs to ribbons. Every time it opened its mouth to go for a lunge, he plunged his blade deep into the inside of its mouth, rocking the beast back and stopping its attack. He ducked low, carving a deep gouge out of its leg and cutting halfway through the bone, but the creature didn't try to avoid the blow, instead it snarled and snapped its jaws down towards his head.

Reyland ducked under the beast's head and stepped in even closer, now standing underneath its neck. His blade came up, running through one side of its throat and out the other, to which the wolf gave a gargled shriek as its own blood filled its throat.

The beast's paw came up, surprising Reyland. It planted its clawed foot directly in the middle of his chest and pushed, the claws raking down the front of his armour as Reyland was thrown six feet away, landing roughly on his back.

The scale armour on his chest was ruined, four deep tears running almost the entire way down the armour. He would certainly have died if the tiny metal plates hadn't been in the way... as it was, the cuts were only superficial. The dull crack he heard in his ribs as the beast threw him was much more worrying, if the aching pain in his chest was any indicator.

Staggering backwards, the giant beast coughed and choked, hacking up the blood and spit that was now filling its mouth and throat. As it wavered for a second on its feet, Reyland climbed to his own, ready to run in and finish it, but he was a moment too late.

The spear point caught the beast just behind the shoulder, right in the heart. It tried to growl but choked again, snarling at Terry as the young man ripped the spear from its flank and backed away, easily sidestepping the injured beasts' bite. While it was still distracted looking at Terry, Reyland darted into range and slashed another line into its neck, hot blood spraying onto him as he danced back out of range before the wolf could reach him.

They didn't give the beast a moment to collect itself. Terry struck again, and as soon as its attention was off of Reyland, the bronze haired monster slayer would dash in and land another blow. Then Terry again, then Reyland... each man skirting death with every strike they made.

As the beasts' head reached the hole and it was about to finally exit the church, Reyland decided to take a risk. He dashed in closer than normal, aiming not at the wolf's head, but at the already weakened leg he had cut before.

With a satisfying schwing, his blade carved cleanly through the already weakened bone, and the lower half of the beasts' leg fell to the ground.

The howl of pain the creature released nearly dropped several of the villagers and rattled the walls of the church violently.

It was Terry's spear that ended it. As the creature reared back in pain, Terry made one final lunge, the spear catching the beast at the temple and piercing into the brain. The colossal wolf froze, mouth still opened in a shrieking howl, before it shuddered, and at last dropped to the ground.

The wolf pack outside in the dark seemed to hesitate, as they watched the giant drop. None of them moved towards the open wall.

The pounding in Reyland's heart was the only thing he could hear. Every part of him ached, but he straightened his posture and stood facing the opening. Terry took a stance beside him, spear held awkwardly and shakily, but pointing towards the wolves even so. Behind them, the villagers who could still stand pressed in closer behind them, makeshift weapons at the ready.

It was a standoff. The wolves outside, for the first time in the night, seemed uncertain. They look at one another, communicating silently, their posture hesitant. Inside, Reyland did his best to stand straight, sword held tightly but off to the side. It was nothing but a bluff, but it was all he had left.

Please, please let this work.