There were fifteen wolves in total, their white fur stained with dried blood as well as ash from the forest itself as their maws opened to reveal sharp teeth. There were several gashes on their bodies and one of them seemed to be in a really bad state.
Roland had a tight grip on his sword. Roland spotted Ethan's head poking out. "Lord Theodore, please hide inside!" Roland yelled. Ethan didn't respond, however. Is it dumb that I want to fight?
The guards were surrounding the beasts and held their swords ready. However, the wolves weren't attacking. Instead, they snarled and bared their fangs, but didn't lunge.
They weren't attacking. They were protecting. And that changed Ethan's thoughts almost instantaneously. At the center, a female wolf, bigger than the rest, growled in pain. Blood trailed down her fur and a gash ran across her body. It was a wound that seemed to be bleeding a lot, but she kept it covered with her paw, snarling whenever anyone got near. Ethan stared from his carriage. The situation seemed to have taken a turn, but not a bad one, at least, not yet. The guards were ready to attack, but the wolves didn't. And Ethan was certain that the guards would kill the creatures unless he ordered otherwise.
Ethan stepped outside. Roland and the rest of the guards were alert as they glanced at him.
"Wait," Ethan said, his voice calm. "Don't attack."
The wolves immediately relaxed, albeit only slightly. Interesting. They understand me?
He stepped forward and walked to them. "Can you understand me?" He said.
"Lord Theodore!" Roland yelled, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back. "Please step back."
"Wait," Ethan replied, holding up a hand, his eyes focused on the wolves. The guards didn't move. The wolves snarled at him and bared their fangs, but didn't make a move. "I'm not going to harm you." Ethan raised his hand. "Calm down. You're hurt, right? I can help you."
The wolf's snarl faltered. She looked at Ethan with a confused gaze, then growled again. Ethan, too, was confused now. Could she really understand him?
"You can understand me, right?" He said. "I need to know."
"Lord Theodore, what is happening?" Roland asked.
"Shh. Be quiet, Roland. I'm trying to communicate," Ethan replied, raising a finger, and silencing Roland.
The female wolf snarled, looking at the guards and baring her teeth. Then, her gaze landed on Ethan, and her snarl was gone.
"She can understand me. I think."
"How?" Roland asked.
"That's not important," Ethan replied. [Myriad Tongue]... I didn't know it stretched to animals—no, beasts as well...
Ethan stepped forward; his hand extended towards the beast. "I won't hurt you."
The wolves growled and bared their fangs at him. The female growled, then they stopped. Ethan neared, then knelt a couple feet from the biggest wolf. The gash on her chest stained her white fur, the blood flowing and dropping to the ground. The creature was panting.
"What happened?" Ethan asked.
The beast looked at him. Her eyes held strange intelligence. It's a magic beast, obviously she's intelligent.
"Can I look at your wound?"
She growled and bared her fangs, causing Roland to slash his sword at the ground in a line. The intention was clear, neither side could pass, or a confrontation was inevitable.
Ethan held up a hand. "Stop, Roland."
"But Lord Theodore—"
"Stop."
Roland didn't respond.
"I'm not going to hurt you." Ethan frowned. "If you want me to help, let me have a look."
The wolf stared, her red eyes piercing, her ears folded and tail stiff.
The tension was thick, and everyone waited. Then, she removed her paw from her wound. The cut was deep, and the fur around the gash was charred. It seemed that it wasn't a natural wound. Ethan could guess it was the result of magic. The cut's too deep, and we don't have a [Healer]...
Suddenly, the wolf spoke, "{I don't want healing, human.}"
Ethan blinked, surprised. Her voice was deep, yet feminine. It wasn't the type to scare children, but it wasn't soft, either. More surprisingly, he could indeed understand her.
"What happened to you?" He asked, glancing at her, wondering how [Myriad Tongue] worked. He knew he was still speaking the common tongue of Nur—Leineh—and that the wolf was still growling, but he could understand that growl.
She looked at him, "{That is none of your concern.}" Then, she looked below and moved her muzzle to the ground, and moved something. In a few seconds, a small pup appeared from beneath.
Ethan widened his eyes, "A baby!"
"{You are to take care of him,}" she said—no, she ordered him.
"What?" Ethan said, taken aback.
"{You will take care of him}," she repeated.
Ethan was flabbergasted.
"{You're touched by the light, and the light has guided me to you,}" she said, then growled. "{I trust the light. However, if anything happens to my Wynd, know that your death will not be painless.}" Saying so, she looked down at her pup, and nudged it forward.
Ethan was still flabbergasted.
The female wolf looked at him, her red eyes piercing, and the snarl in her voice gone, replaced with a soft tone, "{Please.}"
The pup was still far too young to know what was happening so it curiously tilted its head toward Ethan. Its red eyes stared into his, and it yapped.
"I..." Ethan blinked, about to deny.
The [Quest], Guardian of the Wild, has arrived.
"I..." He repeated, and then stopped to look at the [Quest].
Guardian of the Wild (Uncommon)
You have encountered a pack of magical wolves led by a gravely injured female. Through a surprising twist of fate, you understand their language through [Myriad Tongue] and learn of their plight. The female, gravely wounded by a magical attack, entrusts you with her newborn pup, Wynd. She believes you, touched by the "light" (the nature of which remains unclear), are the best hope for Wynd's survival. Why and how, and many other questions, however, remain unclear.
Objective:
Take care of the young wolf pup, Wynd. (Uncertain Duration)
Rewards:
The eternal gratitude of a magical wolf pack. (Potential Ally) Unlocking the secrets of the "light" may grant unknown benefits. (Uncertain) Levels Skill Tokens A chance to get an invitation to [???]
Failure:
Should Wynd come to harm, the wrath of these magical wolves will be swift and merciless. You may lose the trust of the pack, and of [???], potentially putting yourself and others at risk. You may lose the interest of the "light"
Would you like to accept the quest?
YES | NO
So, this is what's been coming since I arrived in this world? Are these wolves related to my arrival? Or whoever this "light" is? Why're they injured in the first place? Does it have anything to do with that humanoid creature? I do recall Roland saying that the humanoid creature was fighting wolves. It seems likely, given these wolves' injuries, but what happened after? Is that humanoid creature dead? If not, where did it go? Should I be worried? What if it attacks Holden?
His mind churning with multiple questions, Ethan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll take care of him." He said, and mentally selected 'YES'.
She stared at him for a second, then turned to the pup and licked his forehead. "{Thank you}," she said to Ethan. "{And now, I have to go.}"
Ethan's lips parted, but she didn't let him say it. Black tendrils of shadows enveloped her and the other wolves, then they all disappeared.
...
After Ethan entrusted the pup to Roland, who was also surprised and confused. Regardless, they all set back on their journey. The pup slept most of the way, curled up in Roland's arm.
"What a strange encounter," Ethan murmured.
He glanced at the wolf. It had a white coat and a black streak on his head. He was cute, though he still drooled a lot, and that was gross. However, it wasn't hard to accept.
"Lord Theodore," Roland said. "How were you able to have a conversation with the beasts?"
"I'm not sure," he lied.
Roland looked at him. Ethan shrugged.
***
Back in Holden Town. The gates opened, and Ethan could see people move aside as they drove their carriages to the estate. They all looked at him with respect and bowed—more out of fear than respect, really. Theo hadn't been a respectable fellow, but he'd certainly been one to be afraid of. This kind of reaction had taken Ethan off guard for the first time, but now, he didn't quite care. When he entered his manor, he immediately wanted to head for the one thing he was craving—a bath.
Before that, however.
"Lord Theodore, what of the pup? Where should I put it?"
"The pup?" Ethan paused for a second, then walked and extended his arms out, "Give it to me."
Roland was surprised but obliged and gave Ethan the young wolf, "If I may ask, why are we keeping the beast?"
Ethan made a thoughtful noise, his gaze focused on the baby wolf as the pup yelped at being given up to the stranger, but after a little while, he sniffed a little before settling in Ethan's hold, his head finding itself a comfy place. It was strange to think how quickly the creature had accepted his place there. Ethan chuckled a little, his voice becoming gentler than Roland had ever heard it as he took care to keep the wolf upright against himself.
"This is no ordinary pup." His gaze shifted from the animal onto Roland. "That wolf, she could talk with me. I do not know how, but the fact is that she could." Ethan gave Roland the lie he'd concocted. "She was intelligent, not a beast. And she entrusted her son to me."
"A Beastkin?" Roland made a surprised noise. "On this part of the world?"
"Beats me," Ethan said. "Regardless, she could talk. And I..." Ethan sighed. If he wanted to have a good life here, he needed someone he could trust in, and Roland had proved to be capable enough as well as trustworthy enough. Roland had taken care of Theo, even though the bastard was a worthless scum of a human being.
"Yes, my lord?" Roland asked.
"I got a [Quest]."
Roland's eyes widened, his voice louder, "A [Quest]!?"
"Hush, be quiet, now, be quiet, Roland," he said and patted the pup gently on his back, murmuring to soothe the waking animal. [Quests] were a rare phenomenon and the rewards were always worth the trouble, or so he'd gathered from Theo's memories. He just hoped his decision wouldn't come back to bite him in the future. "So, I will keep him, at least until she comes to claim him. Which she will."
"My lord, you would require specialists... [Beast Trainers], I don't believe we have many in town, only a few. Or else, a [Druid] perhaps? But finding one is not easy—"
"A [Beast Tamer] is fine. We don't need much, just someone to take care of him."
"Yes, my lord."
Ethan spent the next hour in a bath.
***
The pungent smell of wood ash filled Ethan's nostrils as he peered into the large cask. Lye, a strong alkali traditionally made from wood ash and crucial for soap-making, needed to be extracted from the ash. With a grunt, he grabbed a thick wooden paddle and plunged it into the gray mixture, stirring it vigorously. This was the beginning of the leaching process—a crucial first step in his soap-making endeavor, where lye is coaxed out of the ashes by boiling them in soft water and then allowing the water to seep through the ash.
Thus, this wasn't just about mixing; it was about coaxing that exact lye out.
Across the room, Roland watched with a furrowed brow. "My lord," he finally said, "what precisely are we engaged in here?"
Ethan straightened; wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Patience, Roland," he chuckled. "This is the art of soap-making. We're separating the good stuff—the lye—from the leftover ash, like sifting gold from sand."
Roland's expression remained dubious, his gaze lingering on the murky concoction in the cask. "Ah, I see."
"Yeah, once we've extracted it properly, it will be the foundation for our very own soap. It'll be my very first masterpiece—gentle on the skin, fragrant, and oh-so-satisfying to use. Blight-repellent properties would be a bonus, though that still depends on Jack. He hasn't graced us with his findings yet."
"Indeed, my lord," Roland replied, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. "Master Jack has been... unresponsive lately. He insists we leave him to his work and promises to report back when he has something concrete."
"I see."
With the leaching process nearing completion, they left the cask to settle, its contents swirling like a slow, gray storm. The next step awaited.
"Did you manage to save the fat from the recent butchering?"
"Yes, my lord, I took the liberty of asking the cook to—"
"Excellent. No time for formalities, bring it here!"
Roland scurried away, returning moments later with a large, heavy wooden tub. Inside, a mound of white fat, glistening faintly. "My lord," Roland said. "Got all the rendered beef fat you requested," he said, holding up the tub. "But are you certain it's for…" he trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the tub.
"Absolutely, Roland," Ethan replied with a smile. "The fat needs to be rendered first, which means melting it to remove impurities. Then, we can boil it to separate the tallow, the perfect white fat for soapmaking, from the glycerin, a byproduct with its own uses. I need the white, creamy layer that forms on top, and the clear liquid underneath."
Roland appeared to be confused regarding the terms he used, so he spent the next few minutes explaining the boiling process to Roland.
...
The next day dawned, and the routine began anew. It needed to be repeated after all. The charade of noble life continued as usual, and as the day waned, Ethan returned, Roland in tow.
"This should suffice," Ethan declared. "The impurities have settled at the cask's bottom. Now, we only need to collect the lye water, combine it with fat, and voila—soap!" Noticing Roland's confusion, he offered a brief scientific explanation. "The interaction creates saponification, a chemical reaction that transforms fat into a solid surfactant."
Roland raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
"Precisely," Ethan confirmed with a grin.
The following morning, Ethan followed his usual routine, attempting to maintain focus. Yet, his steps carried him back to their quarters with a scale, a bag of oatmeal, and a water jug in tow.
Soap-making time had arrived.
For a superior tallow soap, the fat and lye mixture needed a specific ratio—which took some experimentation—to the combined weight of tallow and glycerin. Ethan meticulously measured and combined the ingredients, allowing the mixture time to undergo saponification, gradually forming a solid bar of soap.
Once the reaction finished, he introduced the scentless oatmeal. Its purpose was threefold: to provide a gentle scrub, enhance the lather, and leave the skin feeling soft—pure luxury. Finally, a few drops of a floral scent, along with the vibrant red dye extracted from a flower's petals, were incorporated. With a final stir, the mixture was poured into a cake pan lined with wax paper.
Given the limitations of their tools, Ethan had essentially performed a rudimentary form of alchemy to create this supposed pinnacle of soap. He had never really been much interested in learning soap-making, but he thanked his science teacher sincerely. Had it not been for her enthusiasm, Ethan wouldn't have been able to make soap today.
A few hours later, Ethan admired the beautiful pink soap atop his hand.
"Finally," he said with a smile.