They've been traveling for two days, Rex pulling the sled filled with provisions and Old Bone silently observing.
Sunny days and gentle winds have blessed Erik's steps towards the far mountain range, if it weren't for the savage beasts, it'd be a relaxing journey.
As night fell, stars shyly glistened.
The trio in their temporary underground shelter heard a lone wolf's howl. Rex's hairs straightened but this time, he didn't rush outside.
"Damnation, just what's with all those beasts interrupting my meals every time?" Erik complained. "Wait here, I'll be back in five."
He crawled his way out, channeled [Shaman Senses], and the world turned grey, allowing him to see in the dark; a neat application he had discovered a while ago when playing around with his shamanic art.
Nothing but snow and trees.
'It's hiding, waiting for me to lower my guard. Typical Nurmen wolf behavior.'
Famished, impatient, Erik channeled wyrd to his vocal cords and pushed out a deafening howl.
[Call of the Hunt] was used by Wolf Style partitioners to mentally harass their enemies from a distance, instill fear in weak opponents, or provoke the strong.
Unable to manifest aura, Erik couldn't draw out its full potential, however, the sound should make his challenge clear.
A grey wolf leaped out from under a pile of snow, and slowly stepped towards him, apparently accepting the challenge.
The predator snarled, trying to impress, though its large size was all it needed to make Erik triple his caution. Two golden threads shone brightly around the canid.
'On all four, that thing is already as tall as I am and a rank 2 savage beast. Probably an old alpha who lost against a younger wolf in a fight for leadership. That would explain why it's alone out here,' Erik pondered, adopted the Wolf Stance, and activated [Predator's Aura].
As expected, the wolf sensed his pheromones but did not halt its steps.
"Alright, come. Let's get it over with, just like you, I'm hungry."
Growl.
Saliva dripping, the wolf dashed towards its prey. Too fast for him to keep up, left arm lifted as bait, [Durability] activated, Erik welcomed the hungry predator.
Chump!
Sharp teeth closed on his forearm, deep but not enough to reach the bone. The wolf pulled, tilted, and shook its head, trying to shred flesh and muscles.
"Is your last meal to your liking?" He said, unconsciously imitating Caliber's cruel smile, he's seen it so many times it corrupted him.
Although excruciating, Erik showed indifference, feeding himself the pain for extra wyrd—that much should heal with Rex's saliva anyway.
His opponent had taken the bait, all he had to do now was close the trap.
Before the cunning wolf realized something was amiss, Erik seized its muscular throat and pressed with every iota of strength; [Crushing Maw], a cultivation art that could crush stone and bones.
The wolf gasped for breath, loosened its grip, and tried fleeing.
"Where are you going?" Erik channeled [Enhanced Strength] and pulled back the pitiful beast. His freed left hand grasped the wolf's throat, applying even more pressure.
Panicked and unable to use its main weapon, the wolf clawed his face, chest, and arms, doing little damage to Erik's toughened skin.
Out of breath, on the verge of losing consciousness, its body rattled twice, thrice, and went limp.
"Stop pretending," Erik kept strangling the beast, the cunning bastard was faking death, he could still see its wyrd shinin—the two golden threads faded, a sign of a severed fate, death. "Nevermind."
'I'm still lacking in my training,' he thought, disappointed he hadn't had the strength to snap his enemy's spine.
Cutting the corpse's bosom with his knife, he took out the beast core.
Golden as the thread of fate, a fingernail-size fang glistened in his hand. After wiping off the blood on wolf fur, Erik gobbled the beast core that melted into thin threads, fusing with his wyrd.
Summoning his Fate Status, he checked his progress.
Wyrd Accumulation: 225/100
"So, a rank 2 savage beast would only give me five wyrd at this point. Not much considering it outranks me but it's better than rank 1." Every rank 1 beast core he had ingested the past two days wasn't enough to increase his wyrd. "Anyway, let's get this wound treated, eat and pelt this wolf."
***
Two days passed during which the trio traveled towards the far mountain range—yes, again—the number of beasts growing along the way; the closer they got to their destination, the more would show up.
Savage beasts around these parts ranged between rank 1 and rank 3, rarely higher.
Rank 4 beasts and above usually roamed the lower-mountain heights, it wasn't in their interest to climb down since they evolved by eating their brethren's beast cores. Weak cores wouldn't benefit their growth.
After four sunny days in a row, Erik's worries finally came to pass.
Tempestuous winds blew bone-chilling air, bending trees to their will, knocking down those too weak to resist. Snow fell in large quantity, accumulating on top of an already thick pile hiding the soil.
"Inside! Quick!" Erik ordered after clearing the snow blocking a cave's entrance.
Old Bone flew out from under his improvised coat crafted off the wolf he had killed two days ago, she had been unable to fly in the snowstorm and took shelter inside Erik's new winter clothes.
"Cold!!!" Rex ran inside, pulling the small makeshift sled.
Erik activated [Shaman Senses] and took a last look outside.
White, the instigator of this expedition, had guided them to this cave, without it, Erik would have never found this shelter in time—the snowstorm had struck like an assassin.
Seeing no trace of the lost soul, Erik searched for potential threats through the blizzard. In the spiritual world, there was no light nor darkness, only grey, making it slightly easier to see in the worst conditions.
Certain nothing followed them, he entered the cave, inspecting every corner. It was pitch black in the physical realm but he could still see perfectly.
'Heavenly shit.'
Beast pelts decorated the cave walls, a wooden bed stood at the far corner, and drying racks furnished the left side of the cave.
At the center was a fire pit with the necessary tools to roast meat. On the right side, tally marks were carved into the rock, counting down passing days.
He took a closer look.
'There are hundreds of them! Who would be mad enough to stay several months in this place?'
Someone definitely has lived here for quite a long time.
He guessed it could be Ogram, it would make sense since the fire pit seemed to have been used a week or two ago.
'Maybe not. People don't come around these parts often but they do. If it was Ogram, then I'll gladly show my appreciation the next time I see him.' He thought back to his brother's character. 'More love punching would do I suppose.'
'Well, whatever, I'll make myself comfortable.' There was nothing else to do with this snowstorm anyway.
He fetched some firewood carefully stored next to frozen meat under a pile of fur to protect it from the snow.
By dropping aura-infused blood on Caliber's survival knife, he awakened the magical metal that started glowing red.
Soon a fire lit the darkness.
"Much better," he said, smiling before deactivating [Shaman Senses] and removing his wet clothes to dry them on the racks.
"Oh! How did you do that in the dark? Even I with my super dog senses can hardly see in here. Did you use magic tricks again?" Rex asked.
"It's not exactly magic, but shamanism, though it's not wrong to call it that way either." The dog listened as he explained the basic principles behind it.
Magic referred to mana arts used by mages who bent reality to their will with what they called mana instead of wyrd.
Shamans were helped by spirits, beings born from nature who had innate authority over their respective elements. Most of the time, both could achieve the same magical result but with different means.
That's why calling shamanism "magic" wasn't entirely wrong since to the eyes of people it looked the same and peoples' opinions defined the meaning of a word.
"Put it simply, mages slap reality into submission while we first ask permission from the spirits," Erik concluded.
"Ooooh," Rex's brown eyes sparkled with curiosity, "So mages are bullies."
"Maybe? I've never thought of it this way," Erik chuckled.
Caw! Caw!
The raven who had been attentively listening manifested her presence.
"Old Bone is asking where you learned shamanism. She thought you guys only used axes nowadays, but clearly, she's gone s..., senile," Rex shook his head, "I mean, look at you, always using your hands to beat up trespassers. Not talking about your magic tricks!"
"No, she's right, I'm a black sheep," he paused, hesitating to tell them everything.
They were his life companions, if he couldn't trust them, then who could he trust? Erik has shouldered this truth alone for nine years, maybe sharing would alleviate the burden. But he ultimately decided now was not the time.
"What do you mean, friend? You're not a sheep, I would have smelled it!"
"It's a way of saying I don't fit the norms. In the Basara family, only I use shamanic arts and fight with my fists," Erik said. "I will tell you the truth about my shamanic powers one day, however, I will not talk about it in front of the raven till we're not bonded."
He didn't want the word getting out.
The Uzel clan would start hunting him immediately if they learned about his regression, even more if they knew he was a shaman. Plus, Caliber might hear it and he wanted to use this to push the raven into accepting the bond.
Curiosity was a powerful weapon!
"Old Bone, what are you waiting for? Quick, bond him! I want to know," Rex gave her his best puppy eyes mixed with whimpers, his ultimate pleading technique.
Caw!
"Please?"
Caw!
"Fine, fine," Rex sighed, "she says you're still unworthy but you are on the right track."
Erik turned to the raven, "What are you expecting from me?"
Caw!
"She says not to trouble yourself with it. If you are meant to bond her, what should happen, will inevitably happen."
"Oh thanks, that's very helpful," he said sarcastically.
***
Lore Extract:
"On savage beasts' cores. Marvelous wonders of nature, shaping them comes naturally to the beasts. Their genes and instinct push them to evolve further, and adapt, some rare chosen beasts reaching rank 9 or 10. Rank 11 ancient beasts with the power of demigods are extinct or hiding, we've yet to find solid evidence of their existence. However, there are rumors of one such being living in the Everow Mountain ranges. Well, rumors are not worth risking our lives in barbarian territory."
—Patrick Uzel, Magnum Encyclopedia.