A feral howl tore through the cavern, so powerful and raw that it reverberated off the cold walls like a force of nature. Ned felt his throat burn, the sound emanating from him as if it had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to break free. His howl was not just a cry—it was a command, a plea, and a promise all at once.
The sound hit the ears of the modified Wild Wolves like a thunderclap. Their movements faltered, their glowing, unnaturally enhanced eyes snapping to Ned. For the first time in years, something within them stirred. Beneath the layers of tampered DNA and injected malice, they were still Wild Wolves. They still understood the language of family.
Tears welled in the creatures' eyes. Some whimpered, others growled lowly in confusion, but all of them turned to face the man at the center of their hatred: Iver. They weren't able to attack Iver cause that's how they were made, made to recognize Iver as master, but that changed now, no master is more than thier child. The howl made the wolves remember, this person was their predator. The predator who had ripped away their identities, twisted their lives, and bound them in chains of torment now found himself staring at his creations, their rage ignited by a single, primal call.
Iver's icy blue eyes widened in disbelief.
"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "Impossible. He's just a boy! A Level 8! How could he…" His voice trailed off as realization dawned. He stepped back, his once-confident posture crumbling. "This… this shouldn't be possible. Wild Wolves don't… they can't command others!"
His gaze locked on Ned, now standing tall amidst the chaos, his shoulders heaving from the effort of the howl. The boy's eyes gleamed with an otherworldly resolve, and Iver could no longer see him as just prey.
Iver's hand instinctively reached for the hilt of the blade strapped to his hip, but hesitation rooted him in place. He knew that even with his skill and experience, he stood no chance against the pack of enraged Level 100 beasts now surrounding him. They growled, snapping their jaws, their focus unrelenting.
"Wait!" Iver shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "Stop! Think about this! If I die, this entire room will go up in flames! You won't gain anything from this!"
The wolves advanced, their claws clicking ominously against the cavern floor. Iver raised his hands in a placating gesture, his mind racing for a way out.
"I'll… I'll give you treasures! Mythic-ranked artifacts! Weapons! Gold! Whatever you want, just name it!" he sputtered, his voice rising in pitch. He backed away, his back nearly hitting one of the massive cages. "Let me live, and I'll… I'll make you rich beyond your wildest dreams!"
Ned stepped forward, his breathing now steady. His face was calm, but his eyes were cold as ice.
"You don't understand, Iver," Ned said quietly, his voice steady but laced with steel. "You've already taken everything from them. There's nothing you can offer that would make them stop now."
Iver's face twisted in panic as the wolves lunged. Their attack was feral, brutal, and overwhelming. Razor-sharp claws and fangs tore through his suit, his flesh, and his cries of pain echoed through the cavern. He fought back, unleashing skill after skill in a desperate bid for survival.
"Golden Fist!" he roared, his fist glowing with a radiant energy that sent one wolf flying back. "Golden Roar!" A shockwave burst forth from him, momentarily scattering his attackers.
But it wasn't enough.
The wolves regrouped, their fury unrelenting. Each one carried years of pent-up rage and pain, and they poured it all into their attacks. Iver screamed as they closed in again, their claws shredding his defenses. His once-dominant aura was now crumbling under the sheer weight of their numbers.
From his hiding spot, Ned activated Spectator's Insight. As he watched Iver's life force dwindle, a peculiar sense of irony struck him. The wolves' eyes, glowing with rage and vengeance, mirrored Iver's own moments earlier. It was poetic justice, a predator consumed by his prey.
This is what you've earned, Iver. The torment you inflicted comes back tenfold.
Ned's heart ached, not for Iver, but for the world. A world where cruelty like this was commonplace. Where monsters weren't born—they were created.
Why can't everyone just be happy? he thought bitterly, but he already knew the answer. The fault wasn't just in the world. It was in mankind itself. There is fault in the World, cause there is fault in Man.
He turned to leave, trailing tears staining his cheeks. Just as he reached the threshold, Iver's voice cut through the air, hoarse but filled with venom.
"You bastard!" Iver spat, blood dribbling from his mouth. He reached for something on the table nearby. "If I'm going to hell, I'm taking you with me!"
Ned turned in time to see Iver slam his hand on a red button. A low rumble began to vibrate through the cavern, and warning sirens blared to life.
"Self-destruct sequence initiated," a mechanical voice announced. "T-minus sixty seconds to detonation."
Iver's bloodied face twisted into a maniacal grin. "You won't make it out alive, kid! Let's die together!"
Panic flared in Ned's chest, but he forced it down. His mind raced. The portal was at the far end of the dungeon, and there was no way he could make it there in time on foot. But he had one ace left.
"You really should've done your homework on me, Iver," Ned said, his voice dripping with defiance. He gave a dramatic bow, his usual humor creeping back into his tone. "And that's how we end another episode of Surviving with Ned Forester. Goodnight, folks, and goodbye!"
With that, he activated Talaria.
Golden wings of light erupted from his feet, propelling him forward with blinding speed. The cavern blurred around him as he dashed toward the exit. Behind him, the wolves continued their relentless attack on Iver, their rage undiminished even as the countdown ticked closer to zero.
"Thirty seconds to detonation," the mechanical voice intoned.
Ned darted past obstacles, his heart pounding in sync with the countdown. He could hear Iver's maniacal laughter fading behind him, mixed with the snarls of the wolves. The floor shook violently as explosions began to ripple through the cavern.
"Ten seconds to detonation."
The portal came into view, its shimmering surface a beacon of hope. Ned pushed his legs harder, the golden wings propelling him like a comet.
"Five… four…"
He leapt through the portal just as the cavern erupted in a blinding inferno. The force of the explosion hurled him forward, and he tumbled onto the cold, hard ground of the dungeon's entrance. The portal behind him flickered and collapsed, sealing the fiery destruction within.
Ned lay there for a moment, gasping for air. His entire body ached, but he was alive. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet and looked back at the spot where the portal had been. Smoke and ash billowed from the collapsed entrance, marking the end of Iver's reign of terror.
He sighed, exhaustion washing over him like a tidal wave.
"Another day, another near-death experience," he muttered, a wry smile tugging at his lips. But his smile faded as he thought of the wolves. He could only hope they had found some semblance of peace in their final moments.
With heavy steps, he began his journey back to the surface, his mind already brimming with questions about what lay ahead. He had survived Iver, but the secrets of the dungeon and the symbol of The Golden still loomed over him like a dark cloud.
This isn't over, he thought grimly. Not by a long shot.