In fact, the real training Atniel insists on for Irvine is fighting these monsters head-on, because apparently, guns are for wimps. So, with a face full of determination (and just a hint of panic), Irvine has no choice but to draw his short saber and his trusty pitch black army knife, which is definitely not just for opening cans.
"Come here, you stinky dogs! Come!"
He challenges one beast to come at him, feeling like the world's least convincing dog whisperer. But soon, it's like a dental convention for canines, the other white fangs are also slowly approaching him altogether, and he starts questioning his life choices for the second time that day.
"Oh, no! This is unfair!"
Let's cut him some slack. It's hard to shake off the cowardice after a lifetime of being bullied in just one day of training.
The gray-haired young man ultimately decides that discretion is the better part of valor and takes off like a startled gazelle. He dashes in and out of buildings, dropping stuffs to hinder the dogs.
As he sprints toward the woods, one of the beasts ambushes him from behind the bushes. Surprise! Irvine swings his short saber like a contestant on a cooking show who just found out they're not getting a second chance. Miraculously, he lands a hit on the monster's head.
"Kaing!"
He narrowly avoids the monster's pounce, which is kind of like dodging a flying birthday cake, unexpected but satisfying. The last stroke he delivers leaves a cut longer than his previous breath, almost grazing the beast's right eye.
But the monster just shakes it off like it's got a bad haircut, shaking its head and baring its terrifying fangs at Irvine like it's just discovered Instagram.
"No! There's no way I can fight these monsters with these weapons!"
Even engaging in a one-on-one with this injured beast is too much for him. Before the other white fangs can surround him like an overly enthusiastic fan club, he makes a break for the woods, climbing the hillside toward the highway.
Finally, he huffers and puffs his way back to the highway, but the Fracklosk border gate still seems like a distant dream.
"Faster! Faster! I need to run faster!!"
Sadly, the speed he felt during his test with Elea Adlen is starting to feel about as real as his chances of winning the lottery. It never occurs to him that all that speed was thanks to Atniel's divine energy. Forget about drawing that energy out, he's too busy imagining the beast using him as a chew toy.
Those eight monsters might be injured and moving like they're in slow motion, but soon…
"Sraak!!!"
"Srak! Sraaak!!!"
More Spiky-spine White Fangs emerge from the woods like they're answering the call for a morphing time. Our skinny hero, already out of breath, can only will his legs to run faster as if they're in a race against time, and, let's be honest, the monsters will surely be the winners soon.
But then…
"Zfff!!!"
In a moment of sheer panic, his body, heated by terror, releases an unusual warm energy, and he's suddenly enveloped in an aura that looks like something out of dragon ball anime series, looking soft like white plasma energy. (Yes, just like the one you see when Goku hits that ultra instinct).
At this moment, he feels lighter than a feather and starts running like a cheetah getting an energy drink. But just as he gains momentum…
Growl!!!
One Spiky-spine White Fang leaps from behind a wrecked tank like it's auditioning for a role in "Police Story: Monster Edition." Luckily, Irvine's already in the zone. He ducks reflexively, and with all that running speed, he tumbles and rolls like an amateur gymnast.
And…
Crasssh!!! Something cuts the beast's neck from below.
He halts his roll, ready to continue the fight. To his surprise, he notices fresh blood on his left cheek, and the ugly dog he just faced is now lying lifelessly on the ground, headless.
"How?"
It's not just the head; he actually bisected the monster's base neck like it's some sort of twisted magic trick. It's a miracle! He's also cut the notoriously tough spiky spines, which are known for their ability to block sword attacks, but just now making them like they were made of butter.
Soon, Irvine glances at his army knife, doubt etched on his face. Truth be told, his unique mana isn't just hanging around his body. It's also giving his army knife a glow-up, while his short saber is just sitting there looking sad.
"This much power?"
"Atniel! He deliberately led me here to train me how to use this energy."
A smirk appears on his face, like he just solved a particularly tricky crossword puzzle. As endorphins flood his brain, his fear is replaced by excitement. His pupils dilate like he's just discovered caffeine. That one accidental slash has given him an adrenaline rush that's making him feel like a superhero.
Driven mad with power, he starts chopping at the already dead monster like a crazed chef in a butcher shop. Once he pauses to look around, he's greeted by more than two dozen Spiky-spine White Fangs surrounding him, which only amps up his excitement level.
"I'm warning you! This knife of mine can cut through anything!"
Unfortunately, those monsters are no better at listening than a toddler on a sugar high. They only know that someone's invaded their territory and taken out two of their buddies.
Hence, the fateful battle breaks the silent night with growls and roars that would make even the bravest knight cringe.
Sadly, Irvine can't replicate the sharpness of his first stroke with his saber. It's that pitch-black knife shrouded in his unique mana that's his best shot. The unique mana does make the knife sharper, but it's still short enough that he can't take down a monster in one hit. At least he's peeling off their thick skin with every stroke, which is a plus.
"Crash!"
"Crash, crash!"
"I'll use this as training to apply everything he taught me!"
"Rhythm! Steady my breath!"
"Zlb!"
"Zlb, zlb!!!"
The highway, which used to be clean and tidy, is now a gruesome canvas of blood and bits of flesh, much to the dismay of any passing wildlife.
"I need to learn how to keep my composure while keeping my pace!"
The adrenaline rush doesn't completely numb his senses. He knows he can't take them all at once. Trying to conserve energy, he focuses on their weaknesses, aiming for their chests, bellies, and, let's be honest, even their behinds, their ugly assholes.
Is it an easy fight? Not really! He's still battling his own fatigue as more and more Spiky-spine White Fangs join the fray, like a never-ending party he never wanted to attend.