Chapter 158 158 Supplies



Wolfe followed the sound of barking and whistling to the camp of an army reserve unit that the local villagers had surrounded. None of them had attacked yet, but Wolfe could see some familiar faces in the trees using [Detect Hidden].

It was the werewolf dirt bike riders and some reinforcements who were using the fears of the humans to keep them pinned down until more forces could arrive. The mundane humans were terrified of the monsters in the Frozen Wastes, and they believed that the best way to avoid an attack was to stop and not provoke them until they moved on.

Today, that was working in Wolfe's favour, so he barked to let the mutants know he was there, inviting a round of howling that sounded like the police hounds hunting a fugitive.

He hoped that had been the signal for him to attack because as soon as the noise made the army unit skittish and drowned out as much sound as possible, Wolfe started shooting, aiming for the infantry and the underside of the vehicles.

Everyone wanted the supplies that the reserve unit was carrying, so he tried his best not to target them as he caused chaos in the camp.

In under half a minute, the magazine was empty, and Wolfe paused to reload, at which point the mutants charged, catching the army off guard, and startling the group of refugee witches.

"Witches, attack. Don't target the mutants. They're on our side." Wolfe ordered, before moving forward to target groups who were defending against the mutants.

His [Fireballs] were joined by vines springing up from the ground, crushing soldiers, pits of mud pulling them down, and hexes leaving them writhing in agony.

His witches were pulling a lot of mana from him, but nothing Wolfe couldn't handle, even with his own attacks, and the army unit was so bewildered by the variety of attacks that they were getting slaughtered by the mutants as fast as the villagers could run through the camp.

Wolfe picked out a few stragglers who were hiding near the munitions, leaving the camp empty of visible defenders as the witches faced off with the mutants.

"That's good enough, ladies. Thanks for the help. I know my howling friends can't answer properly, but just give me a thumbs up if you're good with us loading backpacks to take to the den. With twenty more mouths to feed, we will need the supplies." Wolfe explained.

A woman with a nearly human face, if you ignored the extra eye in one cheek, nodded her agreement and gave Wolfe the thumbs up while the others began to grab everything they could and then rejoiced when they realized both of the cargo trucks were still operational.

The drivers hadn't had time to disable them, so they could bring them back home fully loaded.

"Don't bother with tents. We have an underground safe spot. Grab supplies, food, weapons and medical gear. The anti-magical bullets need to be dug out, and they leave a poison behind that reduces magical healing." Wolfe informed his team, sending everyone running for gear before the mutants got it all.

For his part, Wolfe grabbed a crate of winter uniforms, including warm boots and coats. They might not fit the witches well, but in case their armour spells went down, they would be important to have in the mountains.

"Good luck with the supply run. Howl if you run into trouble. You know where I'm going." Wolfe told their impromptu allies once the witches were loaded up with gear.

The same woman gave him another thumbs up and then made a gesture in the air, describing their intended route home, circling around a small mountain.

"Let's get moving. The army will send someone to look for the reserves in under an hour. They always do, but today we can't stick around."

The witches seemed to be a bit in awe about how easy the battle had gone when the mundane army couldn't use gas to overcome the witches. As such, they added a few potentially useful items to what they collected from the rubble.

There was a grenade launcher among the gear, and they had picked that, along with as many grenades as they could find for it. Though they couldn't charge a spell fast enough for an automatic weapon without a high-quality storage amulet, a slow-firing grenade launcher could have a very powerful spell imbued into it and only fire every few seconds.

That was their new goal, fighting fire with fire, enchanting mundane weapons of war and turning them against their owners for the shock value.

Wolfe had shown them that a single person could become an artillery barrage with the right magical item, and there were twenty of them in total. They just needed to find a way to increase their power enough to make themselves truly lethal.

The answer to that seemed to be right in front of them as well. Wolfe was granting mana to five of their witches, seven if you counted the ones he had a Familiar Bond with, and their totally destroyed aura was rapidly recovering.

If the rest of the group could convince him to do the same for them, they too could be pulled up to the power level of an upper noble in no time at all and effectively fight off the human armies before they took all of Sylvan Coven over.

Though the nations had been hostile for a long time, it had never amounted to any more than a skirmish in the past. The memory of the last war was still too fresh in everyone's mind to go any further, at least until now.

So, the witches had never needed to develop technology for a full-scale battle against the mundane army, and they were unprepared for the nerve gas which so specifically targeted them and their powers.

They all wanted vengeance for that. The mundane nations had clearly been preparing for the annihilation of the witches, bringing back ancient weapons of mass destruction and building new ones, so every one of these survivors had a good reason to seek payback for their lost friends and family.

The great question was, how were they going to do it? Many powerful witches had succumbed to the gas attacks in the past few weeks, regular tactics just wouldn't cut it, but they weren't trained like the mundane army was. Their training was a simple course in how to deal with monsters along the borders.

Most of them had a year at the academies learning magic and then a few months on the line fighting monsters under an officer who had spent a few more years in the academy and a year or two fighting monsters.

In short, there was nothing in their experience for dealing with tanks and guns, and they hadn't signed up for this insanity.