Chapter 74: The Berserker Wolf Totem

In the moonlight, the blood-red glow of the wolf fang pressed close to the pale neck, casting a rosy hue on the surrounding skin. Teresa hesitantly reached out, cautiously touching the fang, and instantly felt a gentle warmth seep into her fingertips, then surge up through her veins—her fingers, palms, arms, shoulders, back… until it spread from head to toe!

Within mere seconds, Teresa felt enveloped in warmth, a heat that seemed to rise from her very bones, from the inside out, saturating every muscle and nerve with a languorous intoxication. A current of warmth roamed freely through her body, leaving her relaxed and drowsy…

Soothed by comfort, Teresa closed her eyes without noticing that, as soon as her lids shut, the red light spread swiftly along the grass cord, encircling her neck. With each slow breath, the red glow flared more wildly, and before long, she was entirely engulfed in crimson radiance!

As the red light intensified, so did the tide of warmth. Teresa felt every cell in her body swell with energy, clamoring for action. At the same time, a vivid, blood-like brilliance slowly flooded her vision. That dazzling scarlet light twisted, gathered, and pressed before her half-shut eyes, gradually taking on the shape of an abstract totem—

A wolf’s howl burst suddenly from a corner of the military camp’s dormitory quarter. In the utter stillness, where even the song of insects was unusually clear, the howl was like a level-one alarm. Instantly, half the camp was thrown into chaos, and soldiers responsible for the dormitory security rushed toward the source—this quarter housed the alchemists and their assistants brought in for special assignments. If anything happened—even to the most ordinary among them—these soldiers would be held responsible!

After the first howl, another erupted two minutes later, this time winding and mournful in the night wind, tinged with a note of tragic desolation.

The second howl helped guide the soldiers; following its direction, they quickly surrounded a small bungalow just outside the dormitory area—

A faint creak of a door echoed loudly in the breathless night. At that sound, every soldier tensed, adjusting their weapons to attack position…

“Sorry to disturb your peace,” an aged male voice called from behind the door. At the same time, a gentle light dispelled the darkness, revealing an elderly man in an alchemist’s robe. The deep purple garment bore an abstract six-pointed star at the chest, marking him as a sixth-rank alchemist of high standing!

Immediately, the soldiers bowed in respect.

“Sorry for the disturbance,” Carol said gravely. “My apprentice was conducting an alchemical experiment and, unexpectedly, caused quite a commotion. Nothing fatal occurred—please return to your posts.”

Once the soldiers had dispersed and quiet returned, Carol stood at Teresa’s bedside. He glanced at the bedsheets, now shredded to mere rags, and sighed. On the right side of the bed, Teresa sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed in meditation. Under the bright magical lamp, it was clear that the skin of her hands and feet was an unnatural crimson, and more strikingly, all ten fingernails and toenails had grown sharp, glinting under the light like metallic blades!

As her meditation continued, the strange redness gradually faded from her limbs. When her skin returned to normal, her twenty unusually sharp nails lost their energy, snapping off and falling to the stone floor with crisp little clicks.

Teresa slowly opened her eyes and was confronted by the wrecked bed. She stared, dumbfounded, as flashes of memory surged—her body aflame, tearing at the bedding with razor-sharp nails…

“What exactly were you doing just now? It was as if you’d overdosed on Berserker’s Draught,” Carol asked as soon as she opened her eyes.

Snapping back to herself, Teresa anxiously recounted the entire experience—the strange dream, the glowing wolf fang, the inexplicable warmth, and the uncontrollable need to release the surging energy within her…

Carol took the wolf fang necklace from her again and examined it minutely. After a while, comprehension dawned on his face. “Tess, did you ever form a blood pact with this?”

Teresa scratched her head in confusion. “No… Well, I did get cut by the fang once, and it bled a lot—the fang and the grass cord were both soaked. But I didn’t do any kind of ritual.”

“That makes sense,” Carol said, returning the necklace. “This is a classic totemic alchemical artifact, crafted around a wolf fang that naturally stores magical energy—a typical technique of orcish alchemy. Using blood to activate the totem’s effect is rare these days… The inlaid totem must be a berserker wolf totem. Once triggered, it works much like a Berserker’s Draught, but obviously this enchantment has no harmful side effects. If you have time, try studying and unraveling it; it could help you advance.”

Teresa’s eyes sparkled as she took back the necklace, eager to experiment immediately, but Carol stopped her, insisting she rest and be observed. After seeing Carol out, Teresa lay restlessly in her blanketless bed, tossing and turning half the night before finally drifting into a fitful sleep at dawn…

Though Teresa longed to study the mysterious wolf fang and the secrets of orcish alchemy right away, reality gave her no chance. Early the next morning, Northwestern Allied Command issued orders: due to their outstanding performance, Carol and his two assistants—Teresa and Joan—were reassigned to Stormhold to undertake a new mission from headquarters…

☆☆☆

Stormhold, the foremost fortress on the Empire’s northwestern front. Though not the closest stronghold to the border with the Orc Alliance, nor the most impregnable, this castle—built amid perpetual snows—is the command center for the entire northwestern front. All intelligence converges here, and every critical order is issued from these walls, reaching every corner of the front with speed and precision. In every sense, Stormhold is the heart of the northwest.

Teresa and her companions arrived with the logistics convoy just as the sky blazed with evening clouds. The golden glow cast a warm sheen on the ancient castle, making it appear like a kindly old man at peace. Yet, up close, the warmth was only a veneer for something far more formidable—the castle perpetually maintained a second-level alert, its battlements bristling with weapons, patrols moving in tight formation, and every procedure observed with scrupulous precision, an unyielding force lurking beneath the calm.

As temporary appointees, Teresa and the others had to report to the administrative hall for registration and to receive temporary identification. Stormhold maintained a semi-closed system: except for active military personnel and their families, all others had to register and obtain temporary papers upon entry. If they left the fortress for more than a week, their identification would expire.

Carol, well-versed in such protocols, led his two apprentices through the process in under ten minutes. As Teresa gazed curiously at her new identification, a familiar voice suddenly called her name—

“Tess!”

She turned and saw Betty, looking dashing in a mage’s half-robe.

“Aunt Betty! What are you doing here?” Teresa stared in surprise. Just a month ago, when she left Cervantes, Betty had been on vacation—who would have thought that in just over two weeks, Betty would show up at Stormhold as a military mage!

Betty approached, gave her a playful pat on the head, exchanged a few words with Carol, and after Carol and his apprentice departed, she put her arm around Teresa’s shoulders and pinched her nose. “You little rascal—nearly a month gone and you’ve only sent home word twice! If you stay here much longer, you’ll probably forget where your home even is.”

Teresa rubbed her nose and grinned sheepishly, not daring to protest.

Betty, amused by her meekness, cupped Teresa’s rosy cheeks and squeezed them affectionately before letting go. “Your Uncle Amos was suddenly assigned here to oversee a project, and with nothing to do in Cervantes, I applied to come as his assistant. Just days ago, I got word that you and your master were being transferred here, so I came especially to meet you.”

Teresa scratched her face. “Are we actually working on Uncle Amos’s project?”

“Yes, you are,” Betty replied, leading Teresa out of the hall. “Come, let’s get you back to the quarters to wash up and rest. Tonight, I’ll introduce you to Stormhold’s famous wild game. This is the season when magical beasts are at their plumpest—you’ll never forget the taste once you try it…” (To be continued)