Silver Fang Sutra: The Doctor of WarChapter 1: Birth of the Silver Fang SutraThe night was painted in blood and fire.Screams echoed across the battlefield as men clashed like beasts. Spears snapped. Blades cut flesh. The earth itself seemed to shudder beneath the march of armies. Smoke billowed from burning wagons, carrying with it the stench of roasted flesh and spilled entrails.Among this chaos, one man stood out—a towering figure clad in battered iron armor, his cloak crimson not from cloth but from blood. His beard, white as the snow that once crowned northern peaks, was matted with grime. His eyes, however, burned with the fury of an unyielding flame.They called him Azael the War Doctor—a healer once, a butcher now.The Battlefield of SkarholdThe kingdom of Skarhold had always been a land of stone and steel, forged by warlords and hardened by winters so cruel that even wolves starved. Tonight, however, its soil drank deeper than any blizzard could swallow. Thousands lay dea

Silver Fang Sutra: The Doctor of War Chapter 3: The Siege of Galdur Monastery The monastery shook like the bones of a dying beast. The first strike against the gates thundered through its ruined halls, splinters flying like shards of bone. Azael stood before the doors, sword in hand, cloak snapping in the icy wind that howled through the broken windows. Behind him, thirty loyal wolves waited, blades drawn, their breaths white clouds in the cold air. Outside, horns blared again. A thousand boots marched in rhythm, each step a promise of slaughter. “They come as a flood,” whispered Serik, the scarred soldier at Azael’s side. His voice trembled, but his grip on his axe was iron. Azael’s gaze never wavered. “Then we will be the mountain that splits the flood.” The gates buckled again under a ram of steel. The First Breach With a final crack, the wooden gates exploded inward. Shards flew. The first wave of armored soldiers poured into the courtyard, their shields raised, spears b

Silver Fang Sutra: The Doctor of WarChapter 5: The Twelve ShadowsThe snow had barely swallowed the last embers of the Fleshbound’s corpse when the silence broke again.A horn sounded across the valley—deep, guttural, unnatural. It wasn’t a warhorn of men; it was a sound crafted from bone, cursed to rattle the marrow of those who heard it.The wolves froze where they stood. Even the wind seemed to falter.Azael lifted his head, chest still burning from broken ribs, his cloak heavy with black blood. His instincts told him what the horn meant before his mind could form the words.This wasn’t their true strike. It was only the opening cut.Shadows in the FogFrom the treeline, shapes began to emerge. Not clumsy, not chaotic like the first horde—but precise, deliberate. Twelve figures, each cloaked in darkness, their faces hidden beneath bone masks carved in grotesque forms: serpents, hounds, ravens, and beast

Silver Fang Sutra: The Doctor of WarChapter 7: The Oath of BloodThe night did not breathe.Snow hung in the air like ash, caught between silence and storm. Azael stood at the heart of the courtyard, sword dripping silver, his cloak torn into ragged banners. Around him, the circle closed—wolves trembling in rage, Shadows whispering in hunger, and Korin kneeling in the snow, caught between two worlds.The Sutra pulsed.The Alpha bled.The pack waited.The UltimatumThe serpent-masked general stepped forward, its voice sharp as venom sliding over steel.“Choose, boy. The Council does not wait. Kneel, and you will live. Remain, and you will rot beneath his curse.”Korin’s shoulders shook. He did not raise his eyes. His sword lay abandoned, half-buried in red snow. His lips moved soundlessly, caught between prayer and surrender.The wolves behind Azael snarled and cursed, their fury boiling. But none dared strike—because it was not their decision to make. It was the Alpha’s.Azael lifted

Silver Fang Sutra: The Doctor of WarChapter 9: The First General FallsThe air trembled.The courtyard was no longer snow and stone—it was fire and ash. Wolves, half-broken, half-mad with rage, howled around their Alpha, their voices one with his. Azael stood at the center, silver flames dripping from his sword, his breath heavy as the Sutra burned in his chest.The generals closed in.The serpent hissed, circling.The crow unfolded its wings of blades.The others waited, watching, testing this new force.Azael UnleashedAzael moved first.He didn’t lunge—he appeared. One heartbeat he stood still, the next his silver blade was buried in the serpent’s scaled hide. The impact cracked the air like thunder, shadow-blood exploding in every direction.The serpent shrieked, its body thrashing like a storm. Wolves were flung aside, stone shattered, the ground itself split. Yet Azael held fast, his sword carving deeper, his eyes burning brighter.The Sutra whispered louder, its voice no longe