Just a moment of carelessness, and one of the beasts pounces, its bizarre claws digging into his chest. But Irvine's army knife is already deep in its chest, so it's sort of a fair trade.
Like a warrior who's just discovered their favorite video game cheat code, he stabs the monster's chest a few times and getting his face drenched in its blood.
"Raaarrgh!!!"
"Die! Die!!!"
After he kicks the beast off with a flourish, he makes a hasty retreat, dodging the other white fangs. Luckily, some of those monsters are faster and more aggressive than the rest, so he uses this to his advantage, dashing around like a pinball in a machine, scattering them like brainless marbles.
When one or two monsters wander in his direction, separated from the pack like they're taking a leisurely stroll, Irvine seizes the opportunity for a counterattack. He delivers a flurry of quick slashes. Either he manages to land a hit or not, he simply runs away before the other beasts surround him.
"I need to keep moving and steady my breath!"
"Focus! Focus! Aim at their chests and their butts!"
Hit and run—it's the best strategy he's got, and it's working so well that it could be a new fitness trend. Hours pass, and he doesn't even notice the growing number of blood-soaked monsters lying on the road, looking like they just lost a game of dodgeball.
Not all of them are dead; many are just pretending to take a nap, waiting for death to come and collect their overdue bills.
But then, just as Irvine feels like he's on top of the world (or at least the top of a really tall pile of monster corpses), he senses something odd. It's a feeling he's never had in his entire life.
Glancing left, he spots not one, not two, but three old men with hair blowing in the wind, wrapped in tattered black cloth, floating in the treetops like they're auditioning for a role in a Conjuring next movie.
"What are those things?"
Before he can ponder this further, a Spiky-spine White Fang growls, snapping him back to reality faster than a double shot of espresso.
"Ou, shiiit!"
A pair of large canines is suddenly way too close for comfort, pouncing on him from the left. With no time to dodge, he raises his left arm in a heroic attempt to block it—because who needs a functioning arm anyway?
"Aarrg!"
Now, his forearm is firmly lodged in the beast's mouth, like a spaghetti noodle at an Italian restaurant. The creature, standing on its back feet like a confused kangaroo, tries to shake him off while holding onto his shoulder with claws that look like they're designed for a horror-themed amusement park.
Despite the pain, Irvine clings to his army knife like it's his last slice of pizza, and jabs his short saber into the monster's stomach.
"Kaiiing!!!"
The creature screeches in agony, and in that glorious moment of distraction, Irvine's arm slips free. But wait! Here come three more beasts, and they're not exactly sending him a fortune cookie.
In a panic, he swings that left arm still clutching the knife.
Crassh!!!
The beast's mouth is butchered worse than a chef's first attempt at filet mignon, and blood splatters the road like a bad art project. That sharp swing also manages to scare off the other three beasts—at least temporarily.
"Come on! I dare you! Come here and taste my sharp knife!"
One monster is dead, and the other three look about as intimidated as a toddler facing a broccoli platter. Meanwhile, Irvine looks like he just ran a marathon, his breath coming out in loud, heavy pants. But he's still trying to play the tough guy, even if it's just for show.
Surprisingly, he's effective at scaring them off, giving him a few precious seconds to catch his breath. But then he glances up and sees a whole gaggle of monsters heading his way, and all his bravado evaporates faster than a snowman in July.
"That's it! There's no point in getting stronger if I end up as monster lunch!"
Just as he decides to make a strategic retreat, he spins around, and…
"Waaaa!!!"
Truth be told, the beasts aren't scared of him—they're terrified of something way worse.
The three apparitions he spotted earlier are now zooming toward him like they're on a mission from the afterlife. He's caught so off guard that he can only cover his face in shock. Oddly enough, they pass right through him, and he drops to his knees under the weight of the pressure they bring to his head.
"What was that?"
"My head!"
"What did they just do to me?"
The Spiky-spine White Fangs keep their distance, as if they've just seen a really bad reality show. Meanwhile, the three strange spirit creatures are buzzing with excitement like they just found out there's a sale on donuts.
"How delicious!"
"This is the first time in hundreds of years."
"What did I tell you! He clearly saw us!"
"That only means the boy has something special in him. He must be one of those holy knights!"
"But he's too young to be one of them!"
"Regardless of how young he is! That spirit energy! It's the purest I've ever had."
From their chattering, Irvine starts to connect the dots—these three might have just snacked on his unique mana. Curious, he glances back at them and sees their faces, which look like they walked off the set of a horror film. Their bodies are black and sooty, like they just finished a barbecue gone wrong.
Demons? Ghosts? This is a level of weird he didn't sign up for. His fear is so intense that his legs find every excuse to run away, faster than a kid who just saw a spider.
The previous Spiky-spine White Fangs have backed off, terrified of the new arrivals. But just as Irvine thinks he's in the clear, more ugly dogs tumble out of the woods, eager to join the chase, like it's Black Friday and they're after the last TV.
"Atniel! Help!!!"
"This is way too much training material! Please come back and help me!"
He's not scared of the ugly dogs anymore; he's just terrified of those three creepy creatures. As he glances back, he sees a pack of ugly dogs chasing him down the highway, and he's starting to feel the fatigue set in. So he decides to take a moment to catch his breath.
"Zzzh! Zzzhh!!!"
"Whatever they are, I hope they don't come back!"
"Come on, you ugly dogs! Let's keep this fight going!"
He shouts, trying to sound tough. But after only a few swings of his short saber and knife, he hears the excited voices of the three strange creatures again.
"Come back here, young man!"
"Let us taste your delicious soul!"
"We promise not to kill you!"
He can't see them yet, but their laughter is enough to scare him half to death, like he was being chased by three drag queens.