As I sit on the ground, the stench of burning flesh fills my nose, and the crackling sounds of the flames devouring the bodies echo around me.
[…]
[Why do you keep burning these bodies?]
"You'll understand soon enough," I reply, trying to ease the ache in my limbs. The pain in my right arm flares up, a reminder of today's close call. My arm was bleeding; the wolves were prepared this time, and one managed to sink its teeth into me.
It's been three days since I began the hunt, and so far, I've managed to kill six wolves using this strategy. But it's clear that they're adapting. This approach won't work much longer.
[So… what now? Are you going to face them head-on?]
"Face them head-on? I'm barely scraping by against two Tier 5 beasts at a time. You really think I'd survive taking on a dozen Tier 5s, not to mention a Tier 4 and a Tier 3?"
[I wouldn't exactly call it 'barely.' Looked pretty one-sided to me.]
"That's because I was prepared, and they weren't. I made sure to take one down before the fight even started and gave the other no time to react or think."
I pause, letting the moment sink in for Ego. "Remember this: no matter how strong you are, if your opponent has done enough preparation, they'll likely find a way to bring you down. In a fight, the one who's more prepared almost always wins."
[…]
[Sometimes, I swear you sound like you should be a motivational speaker.]
I chuckle as I get up.
[So, what's the plan now? How are you going to handle the rest of the wolves and the nine-tailed fox?]
"Well, I have something in mind for the wolves. But as for the fox… I can't kill it. It's a tier 3 beast. I can barely handle tier 5s, so that fox is out of my league."
[Then what are you going to do?]
"Don't worry. I'm not the one who'll be taking care of the fox."
[…]
[You're keeping me in the dark again?]
"You'll find out when the time comes. Just be patient."
I pause, a grin forming. "Anyway, time to make some bombs."
[Hell yeah! …wait, what?]
"Not full explosives—smaller ones."
[How the hell do you even know how to make bombs?]
"My survival teacher taught me," I say. "Back then, I wasn't much of a fighter, so I picked up whatever skills I could to get an edge."
[Ah, so that's why you can climb trees and sneak around without making a sound!]
I nod. "Yeah, that's also why my teacher liked me—I figured out early that pure strength isn't always the answer."
[Makes sense. But, uh… maybe take care of your arm? It's still bleeding.]
I look down, surprised to see blood still dripping. "What the… this should've healed by now."
[Wait, are you blaming me for this?]
"Well, aren't you the one boosting my healing?"
[All I do is give you the power—I don't micromanage it.]
Weird. I examine the wound more closely. "Could this be something the nine-tailed fox did?"
I smile and say, "Looks like this won't be as easy as I thought."
.
.
.
While wrapping bandages around my arms, I get lost in thought.
If my boosted healing isn't working right, it's going to be a lot harder facing them.
With Ego's help, minor cuts and bites usually heal in seconds. But now, even small wounds are taking longer, and deeper wounds seem to linger even more.
I've taken down six wolves so far, which leaves seven more—plus the pack leader and the nine-tailed fox.
That's a total of nine enemies. But I doubt the leaders will join in from the start. They'll probably wait and make their move after I deal with their underlings.
I try to mentally sort through everything I know about these enemies, fitting the pieces together.
Finally, after a few minutes, I stand up.
[Done with all the planning?]
A smile forms on my face as I reply, "Yep."
.
.
.
Four days pass, and I've made every preparation I need.
I sharpen my sword—it had grown dull from use. This blade was the first gift I ever received from a parental figure, so it's a bit sad knowing today will be the last time I'll wield it. Still, I remind myself, anything for victory. With that, I sheath the sword.
[Are you sure this will work?]
"Don't worry, I'm fifty percent sure it will."
[...]
[And the other fifty percent?]
"I'm fifty percent sure it'll fail, and I'll die."
[...]
[You know, I've known you for two months, and... you've changed.]
I can't help but smile. "And I won't lie, that's because of you. You're the best thing that's happened to me."
[...]
[Are you blushing?]
"Shut up!"
I chuckle as I get up. "Let's finish this mission and finally get some well-deserved rest."
[HELL YEAH!]
"Wait, why are you excited? You just talk. I'm the one who actually needs the rest."
[HEY! Talking is tiring too, you know!]
I sigh and head toward the forest. I've got metal plates strapped to both forearms to protect against bites, and I'm wearing light armor made of leather—it's flexible enough to move easily. And, of course, I'm wearing a cape, just to look a little more mysterious and badass.
.
.
.
Finding one of the wind wolves was easy this time—or rather, it found me first. They're trying to trap me again, just like last time.
But I know their moves by now, so I step right out in front of the wolf. No sneak attacks. Face-to-face.
The wolf stares at me, and I stare back, smiling, knowing it won't have its packmates around for long.
Just as I expected, the other wind wolves emerge from the shadows, one by one. They circle around, growling, eyes locked on me like I'm the last prey they'll ever need.
Then, the big ones make their entrance.
The nine-tailed fox stands in the back, looking at me like it's already won and can't wait to devour me. But my attention is on the Wind Wolf Pack Leader.
I lock eyes with the massive grey wolf. Its gaze is empty, almost like mine, yet there's that flicker of life, that same spark I feel inside.
I draw my sword.
My fingers tighten around the hilt of my sword, feeling its worn leather grip. The forest goes still, save for the low growls and the cold, calculating stare of the pack leader.
It's time for the final hunt.