Silver Fang Sutra: The Doctor of WarChapter 95: The Poisoned Howl1. Morning of DivisionThe first light of dawn broke over the valley, but instead of warmth it carried a chill that clung to bone. The wolves gathered in silence, a pack fractured by whispers. Some stood near Azael, unwilling to let doubt sway them. Others lingered at the edges, their eyes lowered, their ears flat with suspicion.When Azael stepped forward, no one howled in greeting. The silence cut deeper than any wound.Lyra felt it like a blade against her throat. She forced her voice to rise, steady, commanding.“Last night, you saw chains. You saw fog. You saw what the Council brings. Without him, none of us would be standing here. You owe your lives to his flame.”A few nodded. Most said nothing.It was the survivor who broke the silence.“We owe our lives, yes. But what of the ones we lost? What of those burned with the enemy? Fire does not

Silver Fang Sutra: The Doctor of WarChapter 97: The Ashen Divide1. A Pack Torn in TwoDawn came muted, a pale smear against the storm-swollen horizon. The battlefield still stank of iron and smoke, the snow blackened where Azael’s fire had touched. Wolves picked their way among the dead, their eyes hollow.No one howled to honor the fallen. No songs rose for the ones lost. The pack was broken, and silence was its dirge.Azael stood apart, his claws buried in the ash. His body still ached with flame, though he had forced it down. Every breath tasted of guilt. He had not unleashed the Sutra fully, but he had shown enough. Too much.When he looked into the eyes of his wolves, he saw not reverence. Not trust. Only doubt.Lyra leaned against a fallen pine, her shoulder bound in rough cloth, blood still seeping. Her moonblade rested across her knees, its silver edge dulled. Yet her gaze remained sharp. She studied him with t

Silver Fang Sutra: The Doctor of WarChapter 99: The Chains in the Trees1. Silence Before the ShatterThe clearing lay frozen. Wolves stood on either side, blood steaming in the snow, breaths rising like smoke.The duel was done. Azael had broken the survivor’s arm. By the law of wolves, the fight was over. The Alpha had been chosen.But no howl of loyalty rose to the sky. No pledge. No unity. Only silence.Because the silence was not empty. It carried something else. A faint metallic rattle, soft at first, then louder. Chains dragging over bark. Chains tightening around bone.The wolves’ ears flicked. Their hackles rose. The air thickened until it tasted like rust and rot.Lyra’s grip tightened on her moonblade.“They’re here.”2. The Council’s ArrivalFrom the treeline, the chains came first. They slithered across the snow like serpents, glowing faintly, black iron veined with silver lig