Erik faced a tree four times his own girth like it was an opponent. Crouched low in Wolf Stance, fingers crooked, showing his teeth, he ferociously lashed at it.
Slash!
Slash!
Slash!
His hardened fingertips shredded the bark, and savagely dug their way into the woods, ripping it apart. Within fifteen minutes, the pitiful tree shook and fell.
"Amazing," he muttered, awed.
At his level, crushing stone barehanded was still a difficult endeavor, during training, he had only managed to leave finger marks.
Wood, however, was a different story.
Erik slashed the tree into logs and twigs and sorted them out, one pile for firewood, the other for building a small sled.
Once done, he started finger-carving a flat surface off a log and broke it.
"Lighter pressure," he concluded, settling the remains on the firewood pile.
Second try.
Broken.
Third try.
Too shallow.
Fourth try.
Too small.
Fifth try.
Too big.
Sixth try.
Success!
The sled was about one meter long, flat-surfaced, with curved edges to keep stored items from falling off. It looked like a box with a rounded front.
"Hum, it's a bit crude." Erik wasn't a craftsman. "I'd like a bigger one but Rex might be hindered by the weight. Next step."
He dug the snow to access the earthy ground. With Rock's help, he unearthed roots, picked those long, firm, and elastic enough—a particularity of ruby trees—then weaved them together, creating a rope.
"One more rope in case we need a spare."
***
The trio rested by a campfire inside an underground room Rock had carefully dug to prevent collapse, a hole served as a chimney, guiding the smoke outside.
Sleeping underground after he'd closed the entrances should keep the heat from going out and guarantee a comfortable night, even without fire.
His companions had asked about his peculiar shamanic powers, to which he responded honestly. Why hide such facts from those who'd share his fate?
Well, Erik hadn't told them where he got the knowledge, nor the regression part, perhaps later, it was such a… unique subject.
He has been worried Caliber caught wind of his shamanic powers since he was monitoring the trial but ultimately decided it wasn't worth hiding them at the price of his survival. Creating complex underground structures without using [Unearth] was time-consuming and those shelters were crucial. Caliber wouldn't interrupt the trial to question him, however, he would probably report it and interrogate him later.
His family who thought of him as a heretic now wouldn't bat an eye knowing he practiced shamanism. True, they dreaded magic because of the Uzel Magic Kingdom but employed it themselves through volvas. This generation bent more traditions than the previous one, despite fervently praising them.
The real issues would be finding plausible justifications for how he acquired shamanic knowledge and keeping it hidden from the Magic Kingdom for as long as possible.
Not forever, if the [Last Shaman] saga was to grow, it needed advertisement, such couldn't be done by keeping it hidden.
But that could wait, for now, Erik wrestled with rabbit fur and flexible roots to craft new underwear.
"What do you think?" He asked his totem beasts by the fire.
"Is that a portable litter?" Rex said.
Caw!
"Old Bone says it's ugly but better than nothing," the dog translated.
"Right," Erik put on his new underwear. It was finally a bit warm down there! "Better than nothing indeed. Let's eat, I'm famished."
"Finally!" Rex said, eyeing the two rabbits roasting on an improvised BBQ.
The raven didn't show as much enthusiasm, well, she had already eaten a rabbit's leg raw when Erik was busy digging.
Erik threw a portion to his furry companion and devoured one himself.
'Is it heaven?' He wondered, tasting the juicy meat.
Erik had eaten nothing before the summoning ritual this morning because it was considered cheating.
Then he had spent almost five hours waiting for these two to show up and only ate edible plant roots before finding the rabbits, not enough calories to keep up with his abnormal growth spurt.
Next to him were two snowballs he had brought inside, he grabbed one, put it a few moments above the fire to soften it then bit into it.
Bacterias that lurked in the snow mattered little to Erik who had a body immune to most common diseases.
He didn't have the Ten Thousand Poison resistance or the Hundred Poison resistance. His body was barely comparable to a Ten Poison resistance thanks to the Wildfather's blessing, but that was enough to fight normal illness.
Ptoueï!
Erik spat the snow after tasting something unusual. That was the problem with eating snow, if you weren't careful, surprises awaited.
"Hey, Rex, did you piss on a rock next to the second entrance?"
"The pretty rock? Yes, I marked it, why?" The dog replied, "Was it yours?"
Erik eyed the snowball in his hand, now that he looked at it next to a light source, he realized the snow was indeed "marked."
'No need to get mad, it was my fault for not checking it correctly,' he thought before the urge to throw a snowball at Rex's face became unbearable. 'But he does deserve a little punishment.'
BAM!
"Hey!"
"Hahaha! That's what you get for pissing everywhere!"
At that moment, Rex tensed up and growled while looking at the first entrance. "Trespasser! Trespasser!" He shouted, rushing out of the underground room.
"Rex, wait!" Erik quickly crawled outside.
The biting cold of the night gave him shivers, temperature had dropped by several decrees, averaging -45°C if not less.
Moonlight rebounded on snow, providing a considerable source of light. There, he saw it, amidst trees and blue bushes half buried under snow.
A wolverine.
It was as tall as Rex and resembled a small bear but while small compared to a real one, it remained a formidable opponent. They were a ferocious species who would attack beasts thrice their size, fear was not in their dictionary.
Its white fur with patches of brown bristled at the sight of a dog blindly rushing at its throat.
"No!" Erik crouched and channeled [Prowling Steps], his joints, bones, and muscles slightly realigned to adapt as he darted at the foolish dog's rescue on all four, like an alpha wolf coming for his pack member.
The wolverine roared and counterattacked, its front paw slashed the dog's maw, leaving a bloody claw mark.
Rex was a bad fighter, Erik knew that much, however, the dog had courage to spare. Rex growled, well decided on crushing the trespasser.
Quick on its feet, the wolverine dodged another bite, jumped on the dog's back, and clawed his golden fur before biting his neck.
Growl.
It suddenly paused, feeling a threat approaching. The air became heavier, filled with dread.
Erik channeled [Predator's Aura], a Wolf Style cultivation art that produced then released pheromones through pores, triggering an opponent's fear, sometimes paralyzing them; reaching the Manifestation Realm was unneeded for this one.
He got on his two legs, back arced, the moon shining on crimson hair, showing his teeth, he was more beast than human.
Paralyzed at the sight of an indomitable foe, the wolverine trembled, even Rex dared not move.
[Piercing Fang]
Crush!
One finger penetrated the wolverine's eye, brute forced its way through a tough skull, instantly severing its life. The beast's body went limp as Erik twisted his finger, crooked it, lifted his prey off Rex's back, and threw it on snow.
"Are you okay?" He kneeled next to his totem beast, regaining his humanity, more worried than angry.
Rex reflexively stepped back, afraid.
"Hey, buddy it's me, Erik, remember?"
Although he could feel the bond, the dog smelled his contractor and then relaxed upon recognizing his scent.
"You looked very scary for a moment, friend. Like a mad beast."
Was he that intimidating?
"It's my predator side, you'll get used to it. How are your wounds?"
"It hurts," Rex whimpered, licking his wounds, "But I'll survive. Thank you, friend."
"You can't simply run off every time you sense a beast or when someone crosses your established territory," Erik's gaze turned serious.
"Why? It trespassed. All trespassers must be ward—"
"Because I don't want to lose you."
'Again,' he added mentally. In this life, he would not allow the dog to meet the same tragic fate.
Erik petted his furry friend, "Please, promise me you will never do that again without consulting me first."
"I," touched, the dog shed a few tears, feeling the sincerity. Never before has anyone told him such kind words, he who was hailed as the stupidest beast by his peers. "I promise."
"Words spoken cannot be taken back," Erik smiled warmly and examined his companion's wounds, areas licked by the golden retriever already stopped bleeding.
Every totem beast had special abilities, some had phenomenal strength, some controlled elements, others could use telekinesis, etc.
Rex did not possess herculean strength, nor could he fart fire.
No, this golden retriever wasn't a warmonger, but a rescuer.
Wounds licked by him mended faster, as ridiculous as it sounded, even his urine had potent healing properties. Once, Erik had seen a near-dead plant grow healthy again a few hours after the dog repeatedly pissed on it.
Totem beasts grew stronger alongside their contractors, so this was just the tip of the iceberg. Who knew what this dog was truly capable of?
Erik wished to see his companion's full potential in this life and would make it so Rex reached it.
"Let's go back inside and tend to your wounds," he said, dragging the wolverine corpse along.
***
Lore Extract:
"A cultivator becomes a cultivator in truth when they reach the Manifestation Realm at rank 4, one would be able to wield their wyrd outside of their body, manifest it for all eyes to see, bend reality like a true cultivator. It is where the path genuinely begins, where cultivation arts reveal their true shapes and potential."
Diary of a Retired Warrior.