Chereads / Rem The Egoist / Chapter 11 - Chap:(11) The hunting begins

Chapter 11 - Chap:(11) The hunting begins

[So there's a wind wolf right there. Why aren't you attacking?]

 

"Remember what happened last time I listened to you and attacked?"

 

[This time, I have a good feeling!]

 

"Shut up."

 

Since the last fight, I've noticed these wind wolves act differently from normal wind wolves. Typically, they stay together, but for some reason, these ones split up during the day and only regroup at night.

 

Unfortunately, the book didn't have anything on the nine-tailed fox.

 

I've been observing the wolves quietly, careful not to get caught. I'm even wearing a perfume that masks my scent, blending it with nature so they won't catch my smell.

 

[I am pretty sure that wolf is alone]

 

"Ego if you were a physical being I could have beat the living shit out of you," I say as I jump from one tree to another without making any sound.

 

[I'm pretty sure that wolf is alone, you know.]

 

"If you had a physical form, I'd beat the living crap out of you," I mutter, leaping soundlessly from tree to tree.

 

I wear gloves with a texture that clings to surfaces, making it easier to stay silent as I move.

 

As dusk falls and the wolves start to regroup, I pull back, knowing the nine-tailed fox could sense my presence if I stay too long.

 

Back from the forest, I take a quick shower. Miss Old said she had to leave for a few days, so I've been here alone.

 

It's been a week since my mission to hunt down the wind wolves started. And to be honest, it's going well. I've mapped their routes and learned a few other patterns.

 

Heading to the training grounds in the backyard, I grab a wooden sword, ready to practice.

 

[So… when will you finally attack them?]

 

"I'll attack when I'm prepared," I reply mentally, stretching to warm up.

 

[But… I crave blood.]

 

"And I crave to beat the living hell out of you," I snap back.

 

[…]

 

I tighten my grip on my sword and take a deep breath.

 

With a quick swing, my sword connects with the training dummy—and shatters it instantly.

 

Before, I had to rely on Ego's flames to break the dummies. Now, my special trait, Slash, alone is enough. But it still isn't enough.

 

Ignoring the ache in my muscles, I keep swinging my sword, alternating between vertical and horizontal strikes. Sweat drenches my body as I continue the relentless practice.

 

[What are you even trying to accomplish? You're just swinging your sword.]

 

I ignore him.

 

After a while, Ego's flames flare along my arms, and I bring my sword down in a powerful horizontal slash.

 

A shockwave erupts through the air, obliterating a line of dummies in its path.

 

Seeing the destruction I caused, a smile forms on my face.

 

Now I'm ready.

 

 

The next day, I start tracking one of the wind wolves again.

 

I know exactly how I got caught last time. Wind wolves have an exceptional sense of smell, far superior to most other wolves, thanks to their wind attribute. They can detect even the faintest trace of a scent.

 

They also possess an innate danger sense. The slightest trace of bloodthirst, even if it's barely there, will tip them off.

 

And though the wolf appears to be alone, I know better. There's always another one nearby.

 

If I make my move now, the second wolf will sense it and call for backup.

 

[I swear to god, if you don't finally start attacking today…]

 

"Shut up. Don't worry, I'm starting the hunt today," I say in my mind.

 

For days, I've been studying their routes, and now I know exactly where the two wolves will cross paths.

 

And just as I expected, they meet up for a brief moment.

 

[Now, Rem! Move fast!]

 

I take a deep breath, steadying myself.

 

Gripping my sword, flashes of the past flood back—memories I can't escape, no matter how hard I try. But I refuse to let them hold me down any longer. Today, I won't let them be an excuse. Today, I'll win.

 

With that promise, I ready myself.

 

I leap from the tree, and both of my arms ignite with dark blue flames—the flames of Ego.

 

The wolves spot me as I descend, but I don't give them a chance to react. Mid-air, I grip my sword tightly, preparing a powerful vertical slash.

 

With one swift motion, I behead one of the wolves as I land on the ground.

 

There's no time to celebrate; the remaining wolf is already preparing to call for backup.

 

I can't allow that.

 

The flames on my arms vanish and ignite around my legs, surging strength into my muscles. I dash toward the wolf, my enhanced speed closing the gap in an instant.

 

But the wolf reacts quickly, summoning a gust of wind to push me back.

 

I leap at just the right moment, hurling my sword like a spear toward the wolf.

 

It barely dodges, but I don't give it a chance to recover. I land quickly and drive a straight jab into its face, my fist cloaked in Ego's flame, adding force to the blow.

 

The punch sends the wolf flying back, blood trickling from its mouth. I watch its eyes narrow with desperation—it's preparing to retreat.

 

I can't let that happen. My entire plan will fall apart if it escapes.

 

I sprint toward it before it can react, seizing it by the neck. It struggles fiercely, but after a moment of resistance, I manage to snap its neck.

 

I've done it. I've finally won a battle.

 

I… finally won.

 

I return, dragging the bodies of the wolves behind me. I can't leave them out in the open; if the other wolves see them, they'll know it was a human who killed two members of their pack.

 

In the backyard of the training grounds, I gather some wood and start a fire. Once it's blazing, I toss the wolves' bodies into the flames. The stench of burning flesh fills my nostrils.

 

It's disgusting.

 

I sit by the fire, watching it consume the bodies, a small smile forming on my lips. My plan is finally in motion.

 

 

In the distance, a lone wolf watches the rising smoke. It's the leader of the wind wolf pack.

 

The wolf stares at the smoke, understanding exactly what it means, then turns back toward its pack.

 

The wolves are gathered, bowing toward a nine-tailed fox that stands before them like a queen. Admiration fills the eyes of the wolves—except for the pack leader, whose gaze remains cold and indifferent.

 

After all, it alone remains immune to her charms.