Erik hid amidst the ruins on the top floor of a decrepit building, awaiting the arrival of his preys, his scent masked by mouf berries, watching Naglfar's main entrance.
When he felt the ghosts' presence dimming to the point non-shamans couldn't detect it, sure as day, the wolf pack entered the town.
Fifteen of them.
At their head was a muscular beast, more bear than wolf. Its fur grey ash, eyes yellow yolk, teeth razor sharp.
The young direwolf stopped, and scoured the surroundings, sniffing the air in search of its prey, seemingly confused.
Erik had erased his tracks and spread pieces of the hunter's bloodied coat all around town, mixed in the lot was his entire supply of mouf berries to confuse the pack.
Channeling [Shaman Senses], he saw ten thick threads hovering over the alpha. The other wolves had one or two threads, clearly, the leader hadn't shared the beast cores to hasten its evolution.
'Come on, come on.' He thought, hoping his plan would work. The direwolf snarled an order, the entire pack dispersed, seemingly to search for something. 'Good, now they've spread, I can finally start.'
He waited a few more seconds and then jumped over to another building, chasing three wolves that went down an alley at full speed.
Faster than them, he easily caught up, sauntered off the roof's edge, and came down like a spirit of vengeance on the group that sniffed a piece of Sieg's cloth he'd previously left there.
CRASH!
Wolf bones broke Erik's fall in a resounding crack.
One enemy down.
The two others snarled and rushed to flank him. Wolf packs worked well together, few beasts rivaled their teamwork but sometimes, against a powerful opponent, that wasn't enough.
Stronger than before after his physical capabilities had increased, Erik adopted the Wolf Stance, avoid their maws, and slashed their necks.
—Wolf Style: Twin Fangs—
'This area is cleared, onto the next one.' Erik ran over to the next location with [Prowling Steps].
Since he couldn't fight against an entire pack on his own, he had opted for a guerrilla tactic.
With Sieg's shredded coat pieces spread all over town, the wolves who hunted him had scattered. The cunning direwolf should think the hunter alone and too injured to retaliate properly.
Those factors gave Erik the element of surprise, which he hoped would last long enough to halve the pack.
After searching two areas in vain, Erik entered what looked like an ancient mead hall. There, three wolves smelled a cloth piece, one picked it up from the ground in its maw and chewed on it.
"Don't play with your food." They cocked their heads in his direction and wasted no time starting attacking.
—Martial art: Enhanced Strength!—
BAM!
With his early-Warrior tier strength, Erik's toes connected with the closest wolf's chin, interrupting its rush and sending it crashing on the ceiling. As the other two pounced on him in perfect sync, he launched both arms towards their gaping maws.
—Wolf Style: Piercing Fang!—
His fingers penetrated straight through their throats. Both wolves convulsed in his hands as the life was sucked out of them and their blood ran down his forearms.
'That makes six, nine to go.' Before leaving the hall, he heard a resounding howl that gave him goosebumps. 'Did it find out?'
Erik dared not check his hypothesis and ran back to the church; wolf blood covered his hands, mouf berries or not, the direwolf would smell him from afar, sneaking up on it again was too risky.
'I've done as much as I can here. They'd probably track me down soon. There is also a risk the direwolf finds Sieg before I can get there.'
Running at full speed, he entered the sacred place through the broken rose window. Inside, he found Old Bone perched amongst other raven decorations similar to her, Rex on high alert keeping a close eye on the sole entrance, and his brother on his feet, staring into the flames of one of the five fire camps lighting the dark hall.
"Eighth."
Ogram shook at the sight of his brother, the trauma of living in this place alone still fresh in his memories.
"Ninth, is that…, r, r, really you?"
"Yes. Sieg briefed you?"
"More or less." Ogram nodded, his gaze empty, conflicted. The brother of old would have snarled at him, this one seemed lost. "Aren't you going to mock me?"
"Why? Because you've been trapped in a ghost town? I have neither the desire nor the time for that." This statement seemed to alleviate his brother's shame. Erik could see Ogram's complexion relaxed a bit. "Do you have the strength to fight?"
His brother has lost a lot of muscles, but he should still be of help, judging by the five golden threads, he's reached rank 3, the late stage of the Foundation realm.
"Y, y, yes. If it's not a ghost, I can kill it." Ogram said, his axe and shield in hand, his damaged pride wouldn't admit his abilities were weakened because of starvation.
"Where is your totem beast? We could use a reindeer's help."
Much to most of his sibling's amusement, Ogram had summoned a reindeer as his totem beast. Anything that hadn't sharp fangs and claws was considered useless in a fight. An outdated thinking Erik couldn't agree with.
"That…, Berk is…, I, I, I… ate him."
Erik's face contorted into a disgusted rictus at the taboo.
"It's not m, m, my fault! I was so hungry. There was nothing to eat around here apart from human remains b, b, but you forbade it. As the loser of the holmgang, I had no other choice than obeying your will!"
Rex took a step back, more wary of the teenager.
Totem beasts were life companions, a contractor's duty was to protect them, and care for them, killing their contracted beast was the same as killing family.
"Eighth…, what—" Erik paused, horrified, then remembered the reindeer hadn't come back from the trial in his previous life either. Some things were fated to happen again.
Ogram looked away, the shame so great it was unbearable.
Snarls and whimpers outside.
Sieg's voice came down the stairs from the bell tower. "Incoming!"
Up there, the hunter was shooting one arrow after another despite his severe injury that barely stopped bleeding thanks to the healing potion. "Got two! I'll get into position!"
"Got it! Save your wyrd for the last moment!" Erik turned to his brother. "We'll talk about this later. If you want to survive, fight. We're up against an enemy we cannot underestimate. Rex, stay next to me."
"Yes!"
Six wolves jumped down the ruined window like a trained unit, securing their perimeter by forming a half circle as soon as they landed.
No sign of the direwolf.
"Come!" Erik howled as his body started producing abnormal pheromones.
—Wolf Style: Call of the Hunt—
—Wolf Style: Predator's Aura—
Two wolves probably younger than the others cowered in fear, the rest took up the challenge. Five beasts rushed forward, zigzagging to confuse their enemies.
No matter.
Erik clawed the first comer's jaw, bashing it to his right. Rex picked up the timing, jumped, and squeezed the wolf's throat between his maw.
Seemingly wary after this attack, the others stepped back and circled him. Having recuperated from their initial fear, those at the back came to land a hand.
It appeared the alpha had ordered them to be more cautious of their opponents.
"Die!!"
Ogram rammed into a wolf, shield first, disturbing their formation. Erik took advantage of this confusion to punch, kick, elbow, and slash his opponents in a flurry of perfectly executed bl—
BOOM!
From the side, a wolf, almost twice Erik's size, broke a stone wall, joining the fight with a flashy entrance, the snow outside flowing in, the dimming light of the sun highlighting the hole.
Three wolves remained from the initial six that entered the place, they regained confidence at the sight of their leader.
'It dug through snow and stone to flank us!?'
The direwolf launched itself too fast for Erik to counter. Reflexes honed after numerous battles ordered his body to roll, and roll he did, narrowly dodging a claw strike; he could feel pain on his back, shallow claw marks.
"Rah!" Ogram let out a furious roar containing his accumulated frustration of those days trapped in here and his own dishonorable act. His eyes became blood red, and his breathing accelerated, spitting puffs of smoke. "Fight me!"
'The fool has activated Berserk!' Erik thought, crushing a wolf's collarbone. "Rex! Do not go near him!" He said, passing an enemy onto his companion so he could finish it.
"Understood!"
"CHARGE IT!" Erik shouted.
Lurking in the shadows, Sieg who has been waiting for that moment channeled his wyrd. Golden threads became visible to the naked eyes, and coated his bow, weaving temporary extensions on the edges and a new yellow string. Threads of fate enveloped the arrow tip, creating a stronger one. He waited for his wyrd to pile up, his wounds reopening under the cultivation art's stress.
Meanwhile, Ogram ran at his target, axe above his head. A giant paw welcomed his foolish bravery, to which he responded in time by lifting his shield up.
The direwolf's claws speared through the protection's wood, injuring Ogram's arm but not too deeply.
Their enemy was strong, however, it was still a young rank 4 beast and hadn't had the time to reach physical capabilities fitting its rank.
Erik took advantage of the distraction to charge at the boss channeling [Piercing Strike], leaving Rex behind to deal with the last wolf.
Insensitive to pain in his berserk state, Ogram laughed like a madman, preparing his axe for another blow.
"Got you now!"
Slash!
Bam!
Both brothers hit the beast at the same time; Erik its flank, Ogram its front leg, leaving shallow wounds that enraged the direwolf even more.
'A Beast art?' Erik's eyes went wide when he saw the beast's breast cage expanding as it inhaled. "Dodge!"
Too late.
The church shook, and a torrential wind burst forth from the wolf's maw, forcing Ogram off his feet and hurling him against a pillar where he became part of it.
Unconscious or dead, Ogram was out of this fight.
Without a sound, Sieg's arrow left the string for its destined target. Quickly, the giant wolf's fur turned golden, hardening its body in time to avoid a fatal injury. The arrow penetrated its flank, right underneath its elbow. Too shallow, the tip missed the beast's heart.
'Fuck!' Erik jumped in an attempt to punch the arrow in. By reflex, the beast twisted its body. Erik hammered its skin.
Fur bristling in anger, the pack leader's roar echoed throughout the entire place, the ripples shook snow and stone alike, causing some old cracks to lengthen.
'Damnation!' Sieg's injured hand trembled, the strength of his arm withering. 'That was all I had.'
Erik lifted his arms just in time. Claws ripped skin and muscles but not bones, bashing him to the side like plain trash. He tumbled and rolled into the dust and snow, losing his breath to the brutal blow.
"Friend!" The brave dog saw red, growled then darted blindly to his contractor's side, worry gnawing at his bone.
Erik gasped for breath, forcing air into his empty lungs. "Stay back!" But it was too late.
Then, he saw it as if in slow motion, the event overlapping with a past memory better forgotten.
Like last time, the dog came to his rescue.
Erik stumbled to his feet, ignored his injury, and ran as fast as he could, his speed appearing awe so very slow.
A big maw closed on Rex, his fur shredded apart by the incredible pressure. Like golden snowflakes, the dog's hairs glided over the air before finally landing.
Like last time, something caught him before he could reach Erik's side.
The golden retriever's whimpers filled the room, growing louder with the excruciating pain, eclipsing the sound of his cracking ribcage.
"REX!!!"
And like last time, Erik was powerless.
***
Lore Extract:
"Power after weakness. I think your clan got it all wrong along with the other two verses, brother. Each has its own meaning and doesn't mean power above all else. I think that the first verse means true power is achieved through weakness. No one is born a transcendent. You may despise your own weakness, but I know from it you can achieve something greater than anyone can fathom if you persevere. Believe me, a day will come when your potential will blossom. A day will come when, like always, I'll proudly stand by your side, chest puffed with pride as I bask in your wyrd's light, catching some of that glory while smirking at those that mocked you. So don't be ashamed of your tears because they are proof of the hidden strength within you. Don't give up now, brother. Rise. Rise and fight."
—Rex comforting the 15 years old Erik before his regression.